PERKINS LIBRARY 
 
 Uuke University 
 Kare Dooks 
 
 
 
 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/crichton04ains 
 
riie Descent of the Column 
 
c^-i- 
 
 
 ^j^^^l^OvW 
 
 ■WITH. ILLUSTRATIONS BY K.K.BROWNy,. 
 LONDON &-T^£WYOHK: GEORGE ROUTliDGE ScSOVS. 
 
CRI C H TON 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH 
 
 Ergo, flos juvenum, Scotias spes, Palladis ingens, 
 lireptumque decus Musarum e dulcibus ulnis, 
 Te, quamvis sileant alii, Critone, poetae, 
 Teque, tuamque neceni nunquam mea Musa silebit. 
 
 Abernethv Musa Campestris. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HABLOT K. BROWNE 
 
 AUTHOR'S COPYRIGHT EDITION 
 
 LONDON 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited 
 
 BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL, E.G. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 TiiEKE is a passage in David Buchanan's memorial of Crichton, in 
 which, alluding to tlie deadly enmity borne towards the Admirable Scot 
 by Vincenzo dl Gonzaga, he assigns as the cause — " quod amasiam 
 principis deperiret." This passage may be regarded as the text of tiie 
 narrative of Sir Thomas Urquhart, and of the following Romance. To a 
 certain extent I have pursued the course taken by the never-sufficiently- 
 to-be-admired Knight of Cromarty, whose " Discoverle of a Jewel" is, 
 Indeed, a jewel of a book. Urquliart's descriptions of the masque and 
 duel at Mantua are Inimitable. So tlioroughly was tliis singular writer 
 imbued with the spirit of Rabelais (of whom he has left an unfinished, 
 but, so far as it goes, most exquisite translation), that la his account of 
 the disputation in the college of Navarre, he seems to have unconsciously 
 imitated Paniirge's controversy with Thaumast, the Englishman, while, 
 in the " true pedigree and lineal descent of the ancient and honourable 
 family of Urquhart,'' he appears anxious to emulate the iiii-bty genea- 
 logical honours of the good Pantagruel. Sir Thomas, hotvever, is a 
 joyous spirit — a right Pantagruellst ; and if he occasionally 
 
 Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba, 
 
 he has an exuberance of wit and playfulness of fancy that amply redeems 
 his tendency to fanfaronade. 
 
 In my endeavour to illustrate the various shades of Crichton's many- 
 coloured character, I have, perhaps, touched too lightly on its scholastt 
 features. But feeling that adequately to exhibit one of the scenes of 
 intellectual digladiation in which he was so frequently and so trium- 
 phantly engaged, it would require the possession of a depth oi learning 
 little inferior to that of the invincible disputant himself, I have elected 
 as the safer and more suitable course to portray him as the preux cheva 
 tier and all* accomplished gallant, rather than as the philosopher and iia- 
 tttctitian* h 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Boccalini's " Satiric Sketch," Sir Thomas Urquhart's " Jewel," and 
 other allusions of more accredited biographers, would justify me in giving 
 my hero an air of gallantry, were it possible to conceive that lie who sur- 
 passed all the aspiring spirits of tlie age in which he flourished in the 
 feats of arts and arms (and whose aim was to excel in everything), could 
 be behind them in their excesses, especially when those very excesses 
 tended to advance his reputation. The manners of the time were corrupt 
 in the extreme ; and the fascinations of the belles et honnetes dames et 
 demoiselles of the Court of Catherine de Medicis were such as required 
 more stoicism to withstand than the handsome Scot cared to practise. 
 The reader may, if he chooses, speedily gather a notion of the universal 
 profligacy of the period from the bo?is contes of Brant6me, and the dif- 
 ferent memoirs included in the " Journal of Henri III." 
 
 What I have advanced respecting Margaret de Valois is fully borne 
 out by the Divorce Satirique, and the details of Scipio Dupleix. The 
 majestic and terrible figure of Catherine de iMedicIs is too deeply im- 
 pressed upon the page of history to make it necessary to advert to the 
 sources whence I have transferred its lineaments tc niy canvas. 
 
 It only now remains to speak of Vincenzo di Gonzaga, whose cause 
 has been warmly but unsuccessfully advocated by Dr. Black. Notwith- 
 standing his patronage of men of letters (extended towards them as 
 nnich from ostentation as any other motive by the various Italian rulers 
 of the time), this prince was, we learn from Muratori, exceedingly luxu- 
 rious and profuse in his habits — " gran giocatore, grande scialacquator 
 dal danaro, sempre involto fra il lusso, egli amori, sempre in lieti pas- 
 Yitempi o difesti, o di balli, o di musiche, o di commedie." Sismondi, 
 who has given an excellent summary of his character, says — " il umait 
 avec passion les femmes lejeu, la danse, le theatre." And Possevino, 
 the annalist (and, therefore, the panegyrist) of his family, expressly 
 alludes to his vindictive disposition - " quidam cindictce nimium, ideoque 
 in abrupta tractum opinantur." For the rest, I maj affirm with 
 Victor Hugo — " qice souvent les fables du peuple font la verite du 
 voete." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 laoofeB 
 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 I. The Scholajks 
 
 I 
 
 11. The Gelosa . 
 
 13 
 
 in. The Hector .... 
 
 . 2i 
 
 IV. An English Bulldog 
 
 S3 
 
 v. Cosmo Kuggieri , 
 
 S9 
 
 VI. The Mask 
 
 43 
 
 23oo!i m. 
 
 
 I, The Court of Henkv III . . 
 
 .5) 
 
 II. Esclairmondl: , . . . 
 
 . 64 
 
 III. Henri III. . .... . . . 
 
 72 
 
 IV. Catherine de Medicis . . . . 
 
 . 76 
 
 V. Margue)ute de Valois 
 
 84 
 
 VI. The Oratory . . ... 
 
 92 
 
 V 1 [. The Bezoab . . . . . 
 
 104 
 
 Vlll. The Jester . .... 
 
 119 
 
 IX. The Sararcane . . . ... 
 
 126 
 
 X. The Hotel de Soissons> .... . . . . 
 
 141 
 
 XI. The Laboratory . . . ... 
 
 149 
 
 XH. The Incantation . .... 
 
 1.57 
 
 XIII. The Magic Ring 
 
 172 
 
 XIV. The Two Masks 
 
 181 
 
 XV. The Column of Catherine de Medicis 
 
 191 
 
 33ook W. 
 
 
 I. IIic Bibitur ! . . . . . . 
 
 199 
 
 II. The Huguenot 
 
 219 
 
 III. The Procession 
 
 226 
 
 IV. The Lists . . 
 
 232 
 
 V. The Pavilion 
 
 242 
 
 VI. The Beaknais 
 
 2.-5 
 
 VII. The Barb . . ... . . . . 
 
 268 
 
 VIII. The Englishman . 
 
 273 
 
 IX. The Two Henris . 
 
 282 
 
 X. The Missal . . . . . 
 
 29.') 
 
 XL The Bull . . 
 
 308 
 
 XII. The Prizt, . . 
 
 818 
 
 Xni. Ttik Dungeon 
 
 325 
 
 "*^IV. The Conspiracy ... 
 
 332 
 
 Thb Scottish Cavalibb 
 The Admirable Scot 
 Marguerite 
 Atvi:y-SpiCE 
 
 Th» ThIBTT RBQmSITBS 
 
 ILprfcs. 
 
 50 
 
 iOl 
 
 no 
 111 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Temptation of Saint Anthonv 
 The Three Okgies . 
 The Legend of Valdbz 
 Akacreontic Ode 
 The Dirge of Bodrbon 
 The DriTV of Di-guesclin 
 The Swokd of Bayard 
 Yusef and Zorayda 
 
 YOLANDE 
 
 esclaikmonde , 
 
 Ale and Sack 
 
 Incantation 
 
 Song of the Spirit 
 
 Invocation 
 
 The Sorcerkk's Sahbath 
 
 Venite Potejius 
 
 Song of the Scholar . 
 
 The Chronicle of Gargantua 
 
 Song of the Soreonist . 
 
 Charles IX. at Montfaucon . 
 
 Les plus rouges y sont fris 
 
 Drlid . , , . . 
 
 Love's Homilt 
 
 ^ppenUi'x. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 113 
 . 117 
 . 121 
 . 124 
 
 . a. 
 
 . 128 
 . 129 
 . 132 
 , 133 
 . 135 
 , 143 
 . 170 
 . 172 
 174 
 175 
 . 206 
 . 209 
 . 210 
 214 
 . 217 
 . 260 
 . 278 
 . 334 
 
 Epicbdium on the Cardinal Borromeo 
 To Gaspab Visoonti 
 
 343 
 349 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 rAO£ 
 
 1. THE DESCENT OF THE COLUMN . . . (fRONTISPIECe) . 19G 
 
 "2. CRICHTO.V AT THE GATK OF THE c:OLLI;GK OK NAVARIIE . (TITLE) . 1 
 
 .'i. the conflict with the 8tuden is . . ..... 38 
 
 4. pi:ksi:ntation of f.sclairmonde to henui hi. . . . . .6*3 
 
 5. the mortal defiance BY THE MASK .... .81 
 
 6. THE ORATOI'.Y .,.....,. ,97 
 
 7. THE VENICE GLASS 119 
 
 b. HENRI AND THE DEMOISELLE TOltlGNI . 139 
 
 9. CRICHTON'S RENCOIINTKU WITH OCII.VY AND BLOLTJT BEFORE TH3 
 
 FALCON .... 144 
 
 10. THE LABORATORY . 156 
 
 U. THE F.'w7HT .189 
 
 12. HENKY OF NAVARRE AT THE FALCON . . .212 
 
 13. REBOURS RECOGNISING HENRY . . 223 
 
 14. THE PROCESSION . . 228 
 
 15. THE LISTS . . 238 
 
 16. THE PAVILION , ... , 249 
 
 17. THE BULL .... .«••.. 317 
 l«. CRICHTON's 'lOWTESS BEWARDBi* • « .321 
 
CRICHTON. 
 
 BOOK THE FIRST.— CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SCHOLARS. 
 
 Tu viens doncqucs de Paris ? dist I'antagruel — Et a quoj' passez-vous le temp* 
 vous aultrcs Messieurs Estudians au diet Paris? — Kauklais. — rantagruel. — 
 l.iv. II., chap. vi. 
 
 Towards the close of Wednesday, the 4tli of February, 1579, 
 a vast assemblage of scholars was collected before the Gothic gate- 
 way of tlie ancient college of Navarre. So numerous was this con- 
 course, that it not merely blocked up the area in front of the renowned 
 seminary in question, but extended far down tlie Rue de la jNIon- 
 tagne Sainte-Genevieve, in which it is situated. Never had such 
 a disorderly rout been brought togetlicr since the days of the 
 uproar in 1557, when the predecessors of these turbulent students 
 took up arms, marched in a body to the Pre-aux-Clercs, set fire to 
 three houses in the vicinity, and slew a sergeant of the guard, who 
 vainly endeavoured to restrain their fury. Their last election of a 
 rector, ISIcssire Adrien D'Amboise, '■'pater eruditioninn,'' as he is 
 described in his epitaph, when the same body congregated within 
 the cloisters of the Mathurins, and thence proceeded, in tumultu- 
 ous array, to the church of Saint-Louis, in the isle of the same 
 name, — had been nothing to it. Every scholastic hive sent forth 
 its drones. Sorbonne, and Montaigu, Cluny, Harcourt, the Four 
 Nations, and a host of minor establishments — in all, amounting to 
 forty-two — each added its swarms ; and a pretty buzzing they 
 created! The fair of Saint-Germain had only commenced the 
 day before; but though its festivities were to continue till Palm 
 Sunday, and though it was the constant resort of the scholars, who 
 committed, during their days of carnival, ten thousand excesses, 
 it was now absolutely deserted. 
 
 The Pomme-de-Pin, the Castel, the Magdaleine, and the Mule, 
 
 B 
 
2 CRICHTON. 
 
 those tahernes nieritoires, celebrated in Pantagruel's conference with 
 the Limosin student, wliich hai; conferred upon them an immor- 
 taUty hke that of our own hostel, the jNIermaidj were wholly neg- 
 lected; the dice-box was laid aside for the nonce; and the Avell- 
 uscd cards were thrust into the doublets of these thirsty tipplers of 
 the schools. 
 
 But not alone did the crowd consist of the brawler, the gambler, 
 the bully, and the debauchee, though these, it must be confessed, 
 predominated. It was a grand medley of all sects end classes. 
 The modest demeanour of llic retiring, pale-browed student, 
 was contrasted witli the ferocious aspect and reckless bearing of 
 his immediate neighbour, whoee appearance was little better than 
 that of a bravo. The grave theologian and embryo ecclesiastic 
 were placed in juxta-position with the scofRng and licentious 
 acolyte ; while lawyer in posse, and the law-breaker in es^e, 
 •were numbered amongst a group, whose pursuits Avere those of 
 violence and fraud. 
 
 Various as were the cliaractcrs that composed it, not less diver- 
 sified were the costumes of this heterogeneous assemblage. Subject 
 to no particular regulations as to dress, or rather openly infi-icting 
 them, if any such were attempted to be enforced, — each scholar, to 
 wdiatever college he belonged, attired himself in such garments as 
 best suited his taste or his finances. Taking it altogether, the mob 
 was neitlier remarkable for the fashion, nor the cleanliness of the 
 apparel of its members. 
 
 From Rabelais we learn that the passion of play was so strongly 
 implanted in the students of his day, that they would frequently 
 stake the points of their doublets at tric-tracor trou-madame ; and 
 but little improvement had taken place in their morals or manners 
 some half century afterwards. The buckle at their girdle — the 
 mantle on their shoulders — the shirt to their back — often stood 
 the hazard of the die; and hence it not unfrequently hapj^ened, 
 that a rusty pourpoint and ragged c/iausscs were all the covering 
 which the luckless dicers could enumerate, owing, no doubt, " to 
 the extreme rarity and penury of pecnne in their marsiipies^^ 
 
 Round or square caps, hoods and cloaks of black, grey, or other 
 sombre hue, were, however, the prevalent garb of the members of 
 the university ; but here and there might be seen some gayer 
 specimen of the tube, Avhose broad-rimmed, high-crowned felt hat 
 and flaunting featlier; whose pulFed-out sleeves and exaggerated 
 ruif — with starched plaits of such amplitude that they had been 
 not inappropriately named plats de Saint Jean Baptiafe, from 
 the resemblance which the wearer's head bore to that of the saint, 
 •when deposited in the charger of the daughter of Herodias, were 
 intended to ape the leading mode of the elegant court of their 
 sovereign Henri Trois. 
 
 To such an extent had these insolent youngsters carried their 
 licence of imitation, that certain of their members, fresh from the fair 
 
THE SCnCLABS. , 3 
 
 of St. Germain, and not wholly unacquainted witli the hippocrasof 
 the suttlcrs crowding its mart, wore around their throats enormous 
 collars of paper, cut in rivalry of the legitimate plaits of muslin, 
 and bore in their hands long hollow sticks, from which they dis- 
 charged peas and other missiles in imitation of the sarbacanes then 
 in vogue with the monarch and his favourites. 
 
 Thus fmtastically tricked out, on that same day — nay, only a 
 few hours before, and at the fliir above-mentioned, had these 
 facetious Avights, with more merriment than discretion, ventured 
 to exhibit themselves before the coritga of Henri, and to exclaim 
 loud enough to reach the ears of royalty, *' a la fraise on connoit 
 h veau /" — a piece of pleasantry for Avhich they subsequently paid 
 dear. 
 
 Notwithstanding its shabby appearance in detail, the general 
 effect of this scholastic rabble was striking and picturesque. The 
 thick moustaches and pointed beards with which the lips and chins of 
 most of them were decorated, gave to their physiognomies a manly 
 and determined air, fully borne out by their unrestrained carriage 
 and deportment. To a man, almost all were armed with a tough 
 vine-wood bludgeon, called in their language an estoc volant, tipped 
 and shod with steel — a weapon fully understood by them, and 
 rendered, by their dexterity in the use of it, formidable to their 
 adversaries. Not a few carried at their girdles the short rapier, so 
 celebrated in their duels and brawls, or concealed within their bosom 
 a poignard or a two-edged knife. 
 
 The scholars of Paris have ever been a turbulent and ungovern- 
 able race ; and at the period of which this history treats, and, 
 indeed, long before, were little better than a licensed horde of 
 robbers, consisting of a pack of idle and wayward youths drafted 
 from all parts of Europe, as well as from the remoter provinces of 
 their own nation. There was little in common between the mass 
 of students and their brethren, excepting the fellowship resulting 
 from the universal licence in which all indulged. Hence their 
 thousand combats amongst themselves — combats almost invariably 
 attended with fatal consequences — and which the heads of the 
 university found it impossible to check. 
 
 Their own scanty resources, eked out by what little they could 
 derive from beggary or robbery, formed their chief subsistence ; 
 for many of them were positive mendicants, and were so denomi- 
 nated; and, being possessed of a sanctuary wuthin their own quar- 
 ters, to which they could at convenience retire, they submitted to 
 the constraint of no laws except those enforced within the jurisdic- 
 tion of the imiversity, and hesitated at no means of enriching 
 themselves at the expense of their neighbours. Hence, the frequent 
 warfare waged between them and the brethren of Saint Germain 
 des Prds, whose monastic domains adjoined their territories, and 
 whose meadows were the constant chavip clos of their skirmishes ; 
 according to Dulaure — prcsf^ue toujours un theatre de tumulte, de 
 
 b2 
 
4 CRICHTON. 
 
 galantcrie, de combats, de duels, de dthauches, et de sedition. Hence 
 their sanguinary conflicts with the good citizens of Paris, to Avhom 
 they were wholly obnoxious, and who occasionally repaid their ag- 
 gressions with interest. In 1407, two of their number, convicted 
 of assassination and robbery, were condemned to the gibbet, andth** 
 sentence was carried into execution ; but so great was the uproar 
 occasioned in the imiversity by this violation of its immunities, that 
 the provost of Paris, Guillaume de Tignonville, was compelled to take 
 down their bodies from Montfaucon, and see them honourably and 
 ceremoniously interred. This recognition of their rights only served 
 to make matters worse, and for a series of years the nuisance con- 
 tinued unabated. 
 
 It is not our purpose to record all the excesses of the university, 
 nor the means taken for their suppression. Vainly were the civil 
 authorities arrayed against them. Vainly were bulls thundered from 
 the Vatican. No amendment was eficcted. The weed might be 
 cut down, but was never entirely extirpated. Their feuds were 
 transmitted from generation to generation, and their old bone of 
 contention with the abbot of Saint Germain (the Pre-aux-Clercs) 
 was, after an uninterrupted strife for thirty years, submitted to the 
 arbitration of the Pope, who very equitably refused to pronounce 
 judgm.ent in favour of either party. 
 
 Such were the scholars of Paris in the sixteenth century — such 
 the character of the clamorous crew who besieged the portals of the 
 college of Navarre. 
 
 The object that summoned together this unruly midtitude, was, 
 it appears, a desire on the part of the scholars to be present at a 
 public controversy, or learned disputation, then occurring witliin 
 the great hall of the college before which they were congregated, 
 and the disappointment caused by their finding the gates closed, 
 and all entrance denied to them, occasioned their present disposition 
 to riot. 
 
 It was in vain they were assured by the halberdiers stationed at 
 the gates, and who, with crossed pikes, strove to resist the on- 
 ward pressure of the mob, that the hall and court were already 
 crammed to overflowing, that there w^as not room even for the solo 
 of a foot of a doctor of the faculties, and tliat their orders were 
 positive and imperative that none beneath the degree of a 
 bac)ielor or licentiate should be admitted, and that a troop of mar- 
 tinets* and Bcjaunesf could have no possible claim to admission. 
 In vain they were told this was no ordinary disputation, no 
 common controversy, that all were alike entitled to license of in- 
 gress, that the disputant was no undistinguished scholar, whose re- 
 nown did not extend beyon;] his own trifling sphere, and whose 
 opinions, therefore, few would care to hear, and still fewer to 
 
 ♦ Scholars either not living within the walls of the university, or not being en 
 pension at the colleges. 
 
 t Yellow-beaks ; a nickname applied to newly-admitted students. 
 
THE SCHOLARS. 5 
 
 Oppugn, but a foreigner of high rank, in high favour and fasliion, 
 and not more remarkable for his extraordinary intellectual endow- 
 ments, than for his brilliant personal accomplishments. In vain 
 the trembling officials sought to clinch their arguments by 
 stating, that not alone did the conclave consist of the chief mem- 
 bers of the university, the senior doctors of theology, medicine, and 
 law, the professors of the humanities, rhetoric, and philosophy, and 
 all the various other dignitaries; but that the debate was honoured 
 by the presence of Monsieur Christophe de Thou, first president ot 
 parliauicnt ; by that of the learned Jacques Augustin, of the same 
 name; by one of the secretaries of state and governor of Paris, M. 
 Rene de Villcquicr; by the ambassadors of Elizabeth, Queen of 
 England; and of Philip II., King of Spain, and several of their 
 suite; by Abbe de Brantume; by M. jNIiron, the court physician; 
 by Cosmo Ruggieri, the Queen INIother's astrologer ; by the re- 
 nowned poets and masque writers, Maitres Ronsard, Baif, and 
 Phihppe Dcsportes; by the well-known advocate of parliament, Mes- 
 sire Eticnne Pasquicr ; but, also (and here came the gravamen of 
 the objection to their admission) by the two especial favourites of 
 his majesty and leaders of allairs, the seigneurs of Joyeusc and 
 D'Epernon. 
 
 It was in vain the students were informed that, for the preserva- 
 tion of strict decorum, they liad been commanded by the rector to 
 make fiist the gates. No excuses would avail them. The scholars 
 were cogent reasoncrs, and a show of staves soon brought their op- 
 ponents to a nonplus. In this line of argument they were perfectly 
 aware of their ability to prove a major. 
 
 "To tlie wall with them — to the wall T' cried a hundred infuri 
 ated voices. " Down with the halberdiers — down with the gates- 
 down with the disputants — down with the rector himself! — Deny 
 our privileges! To the wall with old Adrien d'Amboise — ex- 
 clude the disciples of the university from their own halls ! — curry 
 favour Avith the court minions ! — hold a public controversy in pri- 
 vate ! — down with him ! We will issue a mandamus for a new elec- 
 tion on the spot !" 
 
 Whereupon a deep groan resounded throughout the crowd. It 
 was succeeded by a volley of fresh execrations against the rector, 
 and an angry demonstration of bludgeons, accompanied by a brisk 
 shower of peas from the sarbacanes. 
 
 The officials turned pale, and calculated the chance of a broken 
 neck in reversion, with that of a broken crown in immediate pos- 
 session. The former being at least contingent, appeared the milder 
 alternative, and they might have been inclined to adopt it, had not 
 a further obstacle stood in their way. The gate was barred within- 
 side, and the vergers and bedels who had the custody of the door, 
 though alarmed at the tumult without, positively lefuscd to un- 
 fasten it. 
 
6 CRICHTON. 
 
 Again, tlic tlireats of" the scholars were renewed, and further 
 intimations of violence were exhibited. Again the peas rattled 
 upon the hands and faces of the lialberdiers, till their ears tingled 
 with pain. " Prate to us of the king's favourites," cried one of the 
 foremost of the scholars, a youth decorated with a paper collar; 
 ( " they may rule within the precincts of the Louvre, but not within 
 the walls of the university. Maugrebleu I We hold them cheap 
 enough. ^V^e heed not the idle bark of these full-fed court lapdogs. 
 What to us is the bearer of a bilboquet? By the four evangelists, 
 we will have none of them here! Let the Gasconcadet, D'Eper- 
 non, reflect on the fate of Quelus and Maugiron, and let our gay 
 Joyeuse beware of the dog's death of Saint Megrin. Place for better 
 men — place for the schools — away with frills and sarbacanes !" 
 
 " What to us is a president of parliament, or a governor of the 
 city?" shouted another of the same gentry. " We care nothing lor 
 their ministration. We recognise them nor, save in their own courts. 
 All their authority fell to the ground at the gate of the Rue Saint 
 Jacques, when they entered our dominions. We care for no 
 parties. We are politiques, and steer a middle course. We hold the 
 Guisards as cheap as the Huguenots, and the brethren of the League; 
 weigh as little with us as the followers of Calvin. Our only sove- 
 reign is Gregory XIIL, Pontiff of Rome. Away with the Guiso 
 and the Bearnais !" 
 
 *' Away with Henri of Navarre, if you please," cried a scholar of 
 Harcourt; '* or Henri of Valois, if you list, but, by all the saints, 
 not with Henri of Lorraine, he is the fast friend of the true faith. 
 No ! — no ! — live the Guise — live the Holy Union !'' 
 
 "Away with Elizabeth of England," cried a scholar of Cluny; 
 •* what doth her representative here ? Seeks he a spouse for her 
 amongst our schools? She will have no great bargain, I own, if 
 she bestows her royal hand upon our Due d'Anjou." 
 
 "If you value your buff jerkin, I counsel you to say nothing 
 slighting of the Queen of England in my hearing," returned a 
 bluff, broad-shouldered fellow, raising his bludgeon after a menacing 
 fashion. He was an Enujlishman belonii;in": to the Four Nations, 
 and had a huge bull-dog at his heels. 
 
 " Away with Philip of Spain and his ambassador," cried a Ber- 
 nardin. 
 
 " Per los ojos de mi Dama !" cried a Spaniard belonging to the 
 College of Narbonne, with huge moustaches curled half way up 
 his bronzed and insolent visage, and a slouched hat pulled over his 
 brow. " This may not pass muster. The representative of the 
 King of Spain must be respected even by the Academics of Lutetia. 
 Which of you shall gainsay me? — ha!" 
 
 •'" What business has he here with his suite, on occasions like to 
 the present?" returned the Bernardin. "Tete-DIeu! this disputa- 
 tiou is one that little concerns the interest of your politic king; 
 
THE SCnOLAKS. 7 
 
 and methinlcs Dom Philip, or his representative, has regard for little 
 else than whatsoever advances his own interest. Your ambas- 
 sador hath, I doubt not, some latent motive for his present atten 
 dance in our schools." 
 
 " Perchance," returned the Spaniard. *' Wc will discuss that 
 point anon." 
 
 " And what doth the pander of the Sybarite within the dusty 
 halls of learning?" ejaculated a scholar of Lcmoine. " What doth 
 the jcalous-pated slayer of his Avile and unborn child within the 
 rcacli of free-spoken voices, and mayhap of well-directed blades? 
 Methinksit were more prudent to tarry Avithin the bowers of his 
 harem, than to hazard his perfumed person among us." 
 
 " Well said," rejoined the scholar of Cluny — " down with 
 Rene do Villequier, though he be Governor of Paris." 
 
 " What title hath the Abbe de Brantonie to a seat amongst us?" 
 said the scion of Ilarcourt; " certes he hath a reputation for wit, 
 an<l scholarship, and gallantry. Hut Avhat is that to us? His 
 place might now be filled by worthier men." 
 
 " And what, in the devil's name, brings Co:mo Ruggieii 
 hither?" asked the Bernardin. "What doth the wrinkled old 
 dealer in the black art hope to learn from us? We arc not given 
 to alchemy, and the occult sciences; we practise no hidden mys- 
 teries; we brew no philtres; we compound no slow poisons; we 
 vend no waxen images. AVhat doth he here, I say ! 'Tis a scan- 
 dal in the rector to permit his presence. And what if he came 
 under the safeguard, and by the authority of his mistress, Cathe- 
 rine de IMedicis! Shall we regard her pass])ort? Down with the 
 heathen abbe, his abominations have been endured too long; they 
 smell rank in our nostrils. Think how he ensnared La Mole — 
 think on his numberless victims. Who mixed the infernal potion 
 of Charles IX.? Let him answer tliat. Down with the infidel — 
 the .Tew — the sorcerer! The stake were too good for him. Down 
 with Ruggieri, I say." 
 
 " Ay, down with the accursed astrologer," echoed the whole 
 crew. " He has done abundant mischief in his time. A day of 
 reckoning has arrived. Hath he cast his own horoscope? Did he 
 foresee his own fate? Ha! ha!" 
 
 " And then the poets," cried another member of the Four 
 Nations, — " a plague on all three. Would they Avere elsewhere. 
 In what docs this disputation concern them? Pierre Konsard, 
 being an olFshoot of this same College of Navarre, hath indu- 
 bitably a claim upon our consideration. But he is old, and I 
 marvel that his gout permitted him to hobble so far. O, the 
 mercenary old scribbler ! His late verses halt like himself, yet 
 he lowercth not the price of his masques. Besides which he is 
 grown moral, and unsays all his former good things. ]\Iort-Dieu ! 
 your superannuated bards ever recant the indiscretions of their 
 nonafje. Clement Marot took to psalm-Avriting in his old age. 
 
8 CRICHTON. 
 
 As to Baif, his name will scarce outlast the scenery of liis ballets, 
 his plays arc out of fashion since the Gelosi arrived. He deserves no 
 place amongst us. And Philip Desportes owes all his present pre- 
 ferment to tlic Vicomtc de Joyeuse. However, he is not altop;ether 
 devoid of merit — let liim wear his bays, so lie trouble us not with 
 his company. Room for the sophistcrs of Narbonne, I say. To the 
 dogs with poetry !" 
 
 "Morbleu!" exclaimed anotlier. "What are the sophisters 
 of Xarbonnc to the dccrctists of the Sorbonne, who will discuss 
 you a position of Cornelius a Lapide, or a sentence of Peter Lom- 
 bard, as readily as you would a flask of hippocras, or a slice of 
 botargo. Ay, and cry transeai to a thesis of Aristotle, though it 
 be against rule. What sayst thou, Capete?" continued he, ad- 
 dressing his neig]ibour, a scholar of jNIontaigu, whose modest grey 
 capuchin procured him this appellation; " Are we the men to be 
 thus scurvily entreated?" 
 
 " I see not that your merits arc greater than ours," returned he 
 of the capuch, " though our boasting be less. The followers of 
 the lowly John Standoncht are as well able to maintain their tenets 
 in controversy as those of Robert of Sorbon? and I see no reason 
 %vhy entrance should be denied us. The honour of the university 
 is at stake, and all its strength should be miistered to assert it." 
 
 " Riglitly spoken," returned the Bcrnardin, " and it were a 
 lasting disgrace to our schools were this arrogant Scot to carry off 
 their laurels when so many who might have been found to lower 
 his crest are allowed no share in their defence. The contest is one 
 that concerns us all alike. W^e at least can arbitrate in case of 
 need." 
 
 " I care not for the lionours of the university," rejoined one of 
 the Ecossais, or Scotch CollcLre, then existing in the Rue des 
 Amandiers, " but I care much for the glory of my countryman, 
 and I would gladly have witnessed the triumiph of the disciples of 
 Rutherford, and of the classic Buchanan. But if the arbitrament 
 to Avhich you would resort is to be that of voices merely, I am glad 
 the rector in his wisdom has thought fit to keep you without, even 
 though I myself be personally inconvenienced by it." 
 
 *' Hijo di Dios! what fine talking is this?" retorted the Spaniard. 
 " There is little chance of the triumph you predicate for your coun- 
 tryman. Trust me, Ave shall have to greet his departure from the 
 debate with many hisses and few cheers; and if we could penetrate 
 through the plates of yon iron door and gaze into the court it con- 
 ceals from our view, Ave should find that the loftiness of his pre- 
 tensions has been already humbled, and his arguments graA^ellcd. 
 Por la Litania de los Santos! to think of comparing an obscure 
 student of the pitiful College of Saint AndrcAv Avith the erudite 
 doctors of the most erudite university in the world, always except- 
 ing those of Valencia and Salamanca. It needs all thy country's 
 assurance to keep the blush of shame from manthng in thy cheeks." 
 
THE SCHOLARS. 9 
 
 " The seminary you revile,*" replied the Scot, haughtily, " has 
 been the nursery of our Scottish kings. Nay, the youthful James 
 Stuart pursued his studies under the same roof, beneath the same 
 wise instruction, and at the self-same time as our noble and gifted 
 James Crichton, Avhom you have falsely denominated an adventurer, 
 but whose lineage is not less distinguished than his learning. His 
 renown has preceded him hither, and he was not unknown to your 
 doctors when he affixed his programme to these college walls. Hark 1" 
 continued the speaker, exultingly, " and listen to yon evidence of 
 his triumph." 
 
 And as he spoke, a loud and continued clapping of hands pro- 
 ceeding from within was distinctly heard above the roar of the 
 Students. 
 
 " That may be at his defeat," muttered the Spaniard, between 
 his teeth. 
 
 " No such thing," replied the Scot. " I heard the name ot 
 Crichton mingled with the plaudits." 
 
 " And Avho may be this Phoenix — this Gargantua of intellect — • 
 Virho is to vanquish us all, as Panurge did Thaumast, the English- 
 man?'' asked the Sorbonistof the Scot. — " Who is he that is more 
 philosophic than Pythagoras? — ha!" 
 
 *' Who is more studious than Carneades!" said the Bernardin. 
 
 "■ ]\Iore versatile than Alcibiades !" said Montaigu. 
 
 ** More subtle than Averroes !" cried Harcourt. 
 
 "More mystical than Plotinus!" said one of the Four Na- 
 tions. 
 
 " More visionary than Artemidorus!" said Cluny. 
 
 ** More infallible than the Pope 1" added Lcmoine. 
 
 *' And who pretends to dispute de omni scibili !" shouted thc5 
 Spaniard. 
 
 " Et quolihet ente /" added the Sorbonist. 
 
 " INIine cars are stunned with your vociferations," replied the 
 Scot. " You ask me Avho James Crichton is, and yourselves give 
 the response. You have mockingly said he is a rara avis; a pro- 
 digy of wit and learning; and you have unintentionally spoken 
 the truth. He is so. But I will tell you that of him of which you 
 are wholly ignorant, or which you have designedly overlooked. His 
 condition is that of a Scottish gentleman of high rank. Like your 
 Spanish grandee, he need not doff his cap to kings. On either 
 side hath he the best of blood in his veins. His mother was a 
 Stuart directly descended from that regal line. His father, who 
 owneth the fair domains of Ellock and Cluny, was Lord Advocate 
 to our bonny and luckless Mary (whom Heaven assoilzie !) and still 
 holds his high office. jNIethinks the Lairds of Crichton might have 
 been heard of here. Howbeit, they are well known to me, who 
 being an Ogilvy of Balfour, have often heard tell of a certain con- 
 tract or obligation, whereby — " 
 
ID CRICIITON". 
 
 " Basta !" intcrriiptcd tlie Spaniard, '* heed not tKine own affairs, 
 worthy Scot. Tell ns of tliis Crichton — ha !" 
 
 "I have told you already more than 1 ought to have told/' re- 
 plied Ogilvy, sullenly. " And if you lack further information 
 respecting James Crichton's favour at the Louvre, liis feats of arms, 
 and the esteem in which he is held by all the dames of honour in 
 attendance upon your Queen Mother, Catherine de ISIedicis — and 
 moreover," he added, with somewhat of sarcasm, "with her fixir 
 daughter. Marguerite dc Valois — you will do well to address your- 
 self to the king's buffoon Maitrc Chicot, whom I sec not far off". 
 Few there are, mcthinks, who could in such short space have won 
 so much favour, or acquired such bright renown." 
 
 " Humph !" muttered the Englishman, "your Scotsmen stick 
 by each other all tlic world over. This James Crichton may or 
 may not be the hero he is vaunted, but I shall mistrust his praises 
 from that quarter, till I find their truth confirmed." 
 
 " He has, to be sure, acquired the character of a stout swords- 
 man," said the Bernardin, " to give the devil his due." 
 
 " He has not met with his match at the salle-d'armes, though he 
 has crossed blades with the first in France," replied Ogilvy. 
 
 " I have seen him at the Manege," said the Sorbonist, " go 
 through his course of equitation, and being a not altogether unskil- 
 ful liorseman myself, I can report favourably of his performance." 
 
 '• There is none among your youth can sit a steed like him," re- 
 turned Ogilvy, " nor can any of the jousters carry off the ring with 
 more certainty at the lists. I would fain hold my tongue, but you 
 enforce me to speak in his praise." 
 
 "Cuerpo di Dies !" exclaimed the Spaniard, half unsheathing the 
 lengthy weapon that hung by his side. " I will hold you a wager 
 of ten rose-nobles to as many silver reals of Spain, that with this 
 staunch Toledo I will overcome your vaunted Crichton in close 
 fight in any manner or practice of fence or digladiation which he 
 may appoint — sword and dagger, or sword only, — stripped to the 
 girdle or armed to the teeth. For la Sc^nta Trinidad ! I will have 
 satisfaction for tlie contumelious affront he hath put upon the very 
 learned gymnasium to which I belong; and it would gladden nie 
 to clip the wings of this loud-crowing cock, or of any of his dung- 
 hid crew," added he, Avith a scornful gesture at the Scotsman. 
 
 " If that be all you seek, you shall not need to go far in your 
 quest," returned Ogilvy. " Tarry till this controversy be ended, 
 and if I match not your Spanish blade with a Scottish broadsword, 
 and approve you as recreant at heart as you are boastful and inju- 
 rious of speech, may Saint Andrew for ever after withhold fiora 
 me his protection." 
 
 " Diablo!" exclaimed the Spaniard. " Thy Scottish saint will 
 little avail thee, since thou hast incurred my indignation. Betake 
 thee, therefore, to thy paternosters, if thou hast grace withal to 
 
THE SCHOLARS. 11 
 
 mutter them ; for within the liour tlaou art assurecrry food for the 
 kites of the Pre-aux-Clercs — sa-ha !" 
 
 " Look to thycclf, vile brag<:art !" rejoined Ogilvy, scornfully ; 
 " I promise thee thou shalt need other intercession than thine own 
 to purchase safety at my hands." 
 
 . " Courage, ^Master Ogilvy," said the Englishman, " thou wilt do 
 Avell to slit tlie ears of this Spanish swash-buckler. I warrant me he 
 hides a craven spirit beneath that slashed pourpoint. Thou art in 
 the right, man, to make him eat his words. Be this Crichton what 
 he may, he is, at least, thy countryman, and in part mine own." 
 
 *' And as such I will uphold him," said On:ilyy, " against any 
 
 odds." -. . .], . 
 
 '• Bravo ! my valorous Don Diego Carava a," said the Sorbonist, 
 slapj)ing the Spaniard on tlic shoulder, and speaking in his ear. 
 " Shall these scurvy Scots carry all before them ? — 1 warrant me, 
 no. Wo will make common cause against the whole beggarly 
 nation ; and in the mean\vhile we intrust thee with this particular 
 quarrel. See thou acquit thyself in it as besecmeth a descendant 
 of the Cid." 
 
 " Account him already abased," rctiu'ned Caravaja. " By 
 Pelayo, I would the other were at his back, that both might be 
 transdxed at a blow — ha !" 
 
 " To return to the subject of difference,"" said the Sorbo- 
 nist. who was too much delighted with the prospect of a duel to 
 illo\y the quarrel a chance of subsiding, while it AVi'S in his 
 power to fan the llame ; " to return to the dilference," said he, 
 aloud, glancing at Ogilvy ; " it must be conceded that, as a 
 wassailer, this Crichton is without a peer. None of us may pre- 
 sume to cope Avith him in the matter of the ilask and the llagon, 
 though we number amongst us some jolly topers. Frif r John, Avith 
 the Priestess of Bacbuc, Avas a Avashy bibber comp;;red A\'ith him." 
 
 '" He Avorships at the shrines of other priestesses besides hers of 
 Bacbuc, if I be not Avrongly informed ;" added ^fontaigu, Avho 
 understood the drift of his companion. 
 
 " Else AA'herefore our rejoinder to his cartels ?" returned the Sor- 
 bonist. " Do you not call to mind that beneath his arrogant 
 defiance of our learned body, affixed to the Avails of the Sorbonne, 
 it AA-as Avrittcn, ' Tliat he Ayho Avould behold this miracle of learn- 
 ir.ii must hie to the tavern or the bordel ?' Was it not so, my 
 hidalgo ?" 
 
 " I have myself seen him at the temulcntiA'e taA'crn of the 
 Falcon," returned Caravaja, " and at the lupanarian haunts in the 
 Champ-Gaillard and the Val-d' Amour. You understand me — ha !" 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" chorussed the scholars. " James Crichton is no 
 stoic. He is a disciple of Epicurus. Vel in jmellam inipingit, vel 
 in poculum — ha ! ha !" 
 
 " "Tis said that he hath deahngs AA'ith the Evil One," observed 
 the man of Harcourt, Avitli a mysterious air ; " and that, hke Jeano 
 
12 CRICHTON. 
 
 d'Arc, he hath surrendci-ed his soul for his temporal welfare 
 Hence his wondrous lore ; hence his supernatural beauty and ac- 
 complishments ; hence his power of fascinating the fair sex; hence 
 his constant run of luck with the dice ; heuce, also, his invul- 
 nerablencts to the sword." 
 
 " 'Tis said, also, that he has a familiar spirit, who attends him in 
 the semblance of a black do;r," said Montaigu. 
 
 " Or in that of a dwarf, like the sooty imp of Cosmo Ruggieri,'* 
 said Harcourt. " Is it not so ?" he asked, turning to the Scot. 
 
 " He lies in his throat who says so," cried Ogilvy, losing all 
 patience. " To one and all of you I breathe defiance ; arid there 
 is not a brother in the college to which I belong who will not 
 maintain my quarrel." 
 
 A loud laugh of derision followed this sally; and, ashamed of 
 having justly exposed himself to ridicule by his idle and unAvorthy 
 display of passion, the Scotsman held his peace and endeavoured 
 to turn a deaf ear to their tauntJ. 
 
THE G£LOS<X 13 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 TUE GELOSO. 
 
 Ham. — Will 5-ou play upon this pipe? 
 
 Guil. — My lord, I cannot. 
 
 Ham. — 1 pray you. Shakspeare. 
 
 While Lis eye glanced fiercely round upon his tormentors, 
 Ogilvy suddenly encountered the dark and earnest orbs of a youth, 
 EtandinfT at a little distance from him, but fully within hearing of 
 their contention, who appeared to take a lively interest in the 
 cause of quarrel, though his sympathy was evidently strongly en- 
 listed in behalf of the Scotsman. There was something in the 
 appearance of this youth that, despite the excitement of his feel- 
 ings, at once arrested the attention of Ogilvy. 
 
 In age, the youth could not be more than eighteen, perhaps not 
 go much, as his slight, though exquisitely symmetrical figure, 
 fragile even to elFeminacy, denoted immaturity. But the fire and 
 intelligence of his glances showed that his spirit and resolution 
 were lar in advance of his years. Tresses of jetty hair over- 
 shadowed his flushed cheek — the olive tint of which, together 
 with his intensely black eyes, proclaimed him a native of some 
 more southern clime — while his attire, though not otherwise 
 singular, was neither that of a member of the university nor 
 accordant with any of the received usages then adopted by the 
 good citizens of Paris. A cap of green Genoa velvet fell on one 
 side of his head ; a mantle of the same material, and of ampler fold 
 than was the mode, was clasped with a chain of gold, and disposed 
 so as best to hide his slender shape, and to give a semblance of more 
 manly width to his narrow proportion of shoulder. 
 
 " You are moved in my behalf, young sir," said Ogilvy, re- 
 marking that the youth still kept his eye fixed upon him, forcing 
 his way at the same time towards the spot where he stood. ** May 
 I ask to which of our academies you belong ?" 
 
 *' I belong to none of your schools," replied the youth, now 
 shrinking from the Scot's approach as much as he had courted his 
 attention from afar. *' I came hither as a stranger, attracted solely 
 
14 CRICnTON. 
 
 by curiosity to learn the result of a disputation with which all 
 Paris rings ; and having unwittingly entered this crowd, though I 
 would fain retire, I must now perforce abide its issue, which," he 
 added, with some hesitation, and a slight increase of colour, " will, I 
 trust, result in the triumph of your peerless countryman, in whose 
 success I am, I own, nearly as much interested as yourself." 
 
 There was a music in the tones that vibrated in a strange manner 
 upon the heart of Ogilvy. 
 
 " As I have a soul to be saved," he thought, " but that they arc 
 boy's lips that uttered that speech, I could have sworn it Avas the 
 very voice of Marion; and, but that the eyes are darker, and it may 
 be larger, I could swear they had the same look too. By Saint 
 Andrew, but it is singular how like they are. I would gladly know, 
 if he be not from my own country, what can make him express him- 
 self so warmly in behalf of James Crichton. Hark ye, young sir," 
 he cried aloud, " you are not, I suppose, from Scotland, are you?" 
 
 The youth could scarce forbear a smile at the inquiry ; but he 
 shook his head in denial. The smile that severed the lips displayed 
 a row of pearls. " The very teeth are Marion's," thought Ogilvy. 
 
 "i'rom Scotland?" shouted the Sorbonist. "Can any good 
 come from out that rascal country? I know this youth well — he is 
 one of the Gelosi — one of the Venetian troop who have the king's 
 licence to enact their plays at the Hotel de Bourbon. I thought I 
 knew th^ face and figure, but the voice was not to be mistaken. 
 'Tis he who singeth the airs in the comedies ; and right well, too, 
 I warrant him. Ah ! — a thought strikes me — we have a minute 
 or two to spare, — why not employ it in a song ? What say you, com- 
 rades, shall we lose this golden opportunity? — A song! — a song!" 
 
 " Bravo ! — bravo !" cried the scholars, clapping their hands. 
 ** Nothing can be better. A song by all means ;" and a circle of 
 faces was presently formed round the Geloso. 
 
 Meanwhile Ogilvy, not less annoyed at the turn which aflairshad 
 taken, than at the supposed imputations thrown out against the 
 stranger, for, not beinguntincturedby the prejudices of his country, 
 as to the morality of stage representations, he entertained a feeling 
 of contempt, amounting almost to abhorrence, for the vocation of 
 an actor, thus addressed him : — " Plath he not belied thee?" he said, 
 with something of distrust. " Say he hath spoken lalsely — say 
 thou art no player — no hired mimic, and, by the pious memory of 
 John Knox, I will hurl back the foul aspersion in his teeth." 
 
 " Peace !" cried the scholar of Montaii^u. " Down with the fro- 
 ward Scot, if he ofler further interruption." 
 
 " Let him answer me, and I am dumb," returned the resolute 
 Ogilvy. " Once more, stranger, — have I misconstrued thee?" 
 
 " You have done so if you supposed me other than I am," replied 
 the youth, raising his head. " I am one of the Gelosi!" 
 
 " You hear him," cried the Sorbonist. " He admits it. Now, 
 give us the song without more ado." 
 
THE GELOSO. 15 
 
 "I deny not my calling," replied the Geloso, " Lut 1 will not 
 sing at your bidding." 
 
 " A\'e Avill sec that," returned the Sorbonist. " There are pumps 
 within our courts Avliose waters are »s song-compelHng as those of 
 Helicon. Their virtue is marvellous." 
 
 " Sangre di Dios ! let us drag the young spark thither," cried 
 Caravaja ; *' he'll find his voice. I'll engage, rather than brook the 
 catarrhs likely to be engendered by the gelid fount." 
 
 So saying he laid his hand rudely upon the Geloso's shoiddcr. 
 The latter started back — liis dark eyes shot lightnings at the ag- 
 gressor, while, quick as thought, he drew I'ortli a stiletto, and 
 placed it at Caravaja's throat. 
 
 " Withdraw thy liand from my person," he cried, *' or by St. 
 Mark I will strike" !'' 
 
 And Caravaja, seeing from his manner that the Geloso was in 
 earnest, deemed it prudent to rclinquisli his hold, which he did 
 with a shrug and his habitual braggadocio exclamation. 
 
 " Bravissimo I" shouted the bystanders Avith renewed acclama- 
 tion; "a capital tableau. It would tell lixmously at the Hotel 
 de Bourbon." 
 
 " By my faith!" said the Englishman, laughing licartily, "our 
 Spaniard hath the worst of it." 
 
 " I pray you, signori," said the Geloso, heedless of their sarcasm, 
 taking olf his cap and displaying at the same time a shower of 
 raven ringlets. " I beseech you to let me depart without further 
 molestation ; I have it not in my power to comply with your 
 wishes, neither do I see your title to require my compliance. 
 Though a player, I am not wholly unfriended; and if " 
 
 " He threatens us," said the Sorbonist ; " marked you that if? 
 It will never do to give up our point. The song, Signer Geloso, 
 and then depart as soon as you list." 
 
 " Never !" replied the Geloso ; " and I counsel you to beware 
 how you drive me to extremities." 
 
 " If none other will take the youth's part I will," said the Eng- 
 lishman ; " I care not if he be Geloso or Diaboloso. If all are 
 against him I am for him. The Blounts ever take the weaker 
 side, and Simon Blount will not disgrace the name he bears. 
 Come, Sir Scot, this quarrel is partly yours. Draw your blade, 
 man, and stand by this poor lad, who looks as if he had never seen 
 a blow struck before." 
 
 A blithe jingle of small silver bells was heard amongst the 
 crowed, offering a seasonable interruption to the brawl, and a very 
 fantastic personage, from whom the sound proceeded, strove to 
 press forward. He Avas clad in a singular parti-coloured raiment, 
 composed of white, crimson, and blue damask, so quaintly fiishioned, 
 and striped with such numberless straight and horizontal lines, that 
 it produced the most whimsical effect imaginable. His slashed 
 juste-au-corps was puffed out at the hips in the most extravagant 
 
16 CRiCnTON. 
 
 style, and served as an admirable foil to liis thin mis-shapen legs, 
 decked in hose of amaranthine hue. Over his shoulders was 
 thrown a surcoat which resembled nothing so nearly as the vestment 
 wherewith the knave of clubs is arrayed, and which depended 
 m huge sleeves over his arms. 
 
 At the back of this surcoat the royal arms were emblazoned in 
 gold tissue, and again displayed on either sleeve. Innumerable 
 tags, to which, as well as to the edges of his sleeves, hung the bells 
 in question, adorned each knee. Around his neck he wore a chain 
 of small medallions, stamped witli devices a lafuUe, the gift of his 
 cher Heniiot, as he fraternally termed his royal master, and his tall 
 conical cap — which had superseded the old orthodox cock's-comb, 
 then quite out of date — had the triple points a la cornette, borne 
 by all the servitors of the court. In his hand he carried his ensign 
 of office — the bauble, an ebony truncheon decorated with the fool's 
 head, cast in wrought silver. A huge escarcelle, or pouch, filled 
 with confectionery, of which he was immoderately fond, hung at 
 his girdle, and near it was stuck a formidable dagger of lath. 
 
 This bizarre figure was the king^'s favourite bufibon Chicot. 
 
 " By your leave, my masters," he cried, shouldering his way 
 through the crowd, and bestowing buffets with his bauble upon all 
 who opposed his progress. " Why would you stop me? Folly 
 was ever current in the University of Paris. Besides, all my 
 wisdom is needed. They are about to souse a singer in cold water 
 to give him a voice. That were a feat worthy the first fool in 
 France. I should lose my post were I not to assist. Have a care, 
 I say. Make way for the Abbe of the Bejaunes, though he be 
 not mounted on his ass as at the Feast of the Innocents." 
 
 And planting himself immediately before the Geloso, to whom 
 he nodded in the most familiar manner, Chicot drew his lathen 
 dagger, and, with abundance of gesticulations and grimaces, bran- 
 dished it in the face of the students. " This youth, Avho is my 
 foster-brother," said the jester (here there was a loud laugh), " is 
 in the right to refuse you. He is engaged for the masque to-night, 
 and must not exhibit himself before-hand. Our gossip Henriot is 
 chary of his services. If you want music, come with us to the 
 gates of the Louvre. The band of tiie Swiss Guard is celebrated 
 for its quick movement." 
 
 " Exasperate them not, kind sir," whispered the Geloso, " I will 
 rather comply with their demands, unreasonable though they be, 
 than endanger another's safety by refusal. Signori," he continued, 
 addressing his persecutors, " I will do your bidding, provided I 
 am free to depart when my song is ended." 
 
 " Agreed !" shouted the scholars, waving their caps. In an 
 instant the clamour ceased. A dense ring was formed around the 
 Geloso, while in a voice of the most exquisite modulation, though 
 with something of sarcasm in its tone, he sang the following strain, 
 evidently the inspiration of the mojneot: — 
 
THt. OELOSa. 17 
 
 THE SCOTTISH CAVALIER. 
 I. 
 
 From Scotia's clime to laugliing France 
 
 Tlie peerless Crichton came ; 
 Like li'm no kniglit could shiver lance. 
 
 Wield sword, or worship dame. 
 Alas ! eacli maiden siglis in vain. 
 
 He turns a careless car : 
 For queenlij tetters last enchain 
 
 The Scottisli cavalier ! 
 IL 
 Eut not o'er camp and court, alone, 
 
 Kcsistlcss Crichton rules ; 
 Logicians next, defeated, own 
 
 His empire o'er the Schools. 
 'Gainst sophists slirewd shall wit prevail, 
 
 Tliongli t line on tome thc}* rear ; 
 And pedants pale, as victor, hail 
 
 The bcottibh cavalier ! 
 
 *' No more of this," cried the Sorbonist, " this is not the song 
 v/e bargained for. We Avill have thy llivourite air from La ]\fad« 
 dalena, or the canzonet from La Florinda, or thou stirrcst not, 
 mon mignon." 
 
 *' Bah !" ejaculated Chicot ; " you arc no judges. The song wag 
 charming, and I vote for its repetition. But tlie bufloonery of the 
 troop at the hotel of the Abbe de Clugni, in tlie Rue des Ma- 
 thurins, would be more in your way. Wliat say you to a motet 
 from their last sotie — La Farce joymse dcs hejaiuivs .sop/il.'^'tes ?" 
 
 " Vcntreblcu ! What mockery is this ?" cried one of the scho- 
 lars with the preposterous paper collars. " Are we to be chaflered 
 out of our projects by yon magot-pie, who, having newly-escaped 
 his cage, hath llown hither to babble at his ease ?" 
 
 " 'Tis well," returned Chicot, " that, like some I wot of, I have 
 not arrayed mj'sclf in peacock's plumes. Strut as it may, the daw 
 will out; and roar as loudly and lion-like as he niay, the ass is an ass 
 still. Fool as I am, I am not folly's counterfeit. The ape, but 
 not the ape's shadow, compere. ' By the caul you may know the 
 calf;' that is your cry, they tell me. Now, were your calf-ship to 
 be judged by that rule, we could scarce find subject fitter for the 
 shambles." 
 
 •' A thousand devils !" cried the enraged scholar. " Were you 
 ten times the licensed fool you are, you shall repent this insolence." 
 
 " Back !" exclaimed Blount, interposing his bludgeon so as to 
 ward off the blow aimed at the jester's sconce. " A bloody cock's- 
 conrb were an unseemly consummation to such gay apparel. Reserve 
 your blows for one more able to requite them. See you not his 
 weapon is of lath ?'' 
 
 " Let him keep better rule over his tongue, then," replied tha 
 angry scholar. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" cried Chicot, screaming with laughter, "stay 
 me not. 1 will combat with him to the outrance. JMy marotte 
 
 C 
 
18 ci^iCJ^Toy 
 
 to his rufi", but I slay him on the exchange of a stoccata. ^ly feeble 
 shall prove his reversed 
 
 " In the mean time Ave are losing sight of our songster," said 
 the Sorbonist. " What hatli become of the Gcloso?" 
 
 " Vanished, as I tliink," exclaimed Caravaja. " I nowhere be- 
 hold him." 
 
 " I had not remarked his departure," thought Ogilvy, " but 'tis 
 better thus. I could not have refused the poor youth aid in case of 
 need, and yet my soul revolts at the thought of being embroiled 
 in the quarrel of a stage-player. 'Tis strange the face should haunt 
 me so much. I will think of him no more." 
 
 But, in spite of his resolution, Ogilvy could not prevent his eyes 
 from wandering amongst the distant raiiks of the scholars in search 
 of the fugitive. His quest was vain. During the confusion created 
 by the jester's defiance of the student, and not improbably -by his 
 connivance, or that of the Englishman, the Geloso had contrived, 
 unobserved, to make good his retreat. 
 
 " Hath ]\Iaitre Chicot secreted him in his escarcelle ? It is large 
 enough," said Harcourt. 
 
 " Or in the sleeves of his surcoat?" said the Bernardin. 
 
 " Or swallowed him, as Gargantua did the pilgrim," added 
 Caravaja, laughing. 
 
 " Or as thou wouldst a cup of Val de Penas, were it proffered 
 thee ; or thine own words, if need be, Seiior Caballero," said the 
 jester. 
 
 " Scnor Satan!" roared Caravnj a, unsheathing his sword; "1 
 "will carve thee into as many slices as there are patches in thy 
 jerkin — sa — ha !" 
 
 " Or as there are dints on thy sword, of thine own notching," 
 rejoined Chicot, with a malignant grin; " or oaths in thy mouth, of 
 thine own coining. Or lies in thy brain, of thine own hatching. Or 
 dice in thy pocket, of thine own loading. Or pence in thy pouch, of 
 liiine own pilfering. Or scars in thy back, of thine own procuring 
 — ha ! ha ! Shred me into as many pieces as a Spanish onion, 
 and the number shall yet be far below thy own countless pecca- 
 dilloes — sa — ha !" 
 
 *' Sangrc di Dios! Give me way to the scurrilous ribald," 
 vociferated Caravaja, furious as a bull cliafcd by the matador, 
 flourishing his rapier and stamping on the ground, and with diffi- 
 culty withlield by the students. But nothing could check the 
 wild exhilaration of the jester, who was nigh convulsed with 
 laughter at the ineflectual attempts of the vindictive Spaniard to 
 reach him. He exhibited no alarm, but stood his ground as care- 
 lessly as if no danger threatened him. Nay, he even continued his 
 galHng mockery, and might, in all probabiUty, have paid the 
 penalty of liis rashness, if a new incident had not occurred, which 
 operated as a diversion in his favour. 
 
 The gates of the College of Navarre were suddenly tlirown open, 
 
THE GELOSO. 19 
 
 and a long-continued thunder of applause bursting from within, an- 
 nounced the conclusion of the debate. That it had terminated in 
 favour of Crichton could no longer be doubted, as his name formed 
 the burden of all the plaudits with which the courts were ringing 
 All was excitement : there was a general movement. Ogilvy could 
 no longer restrain himself. Pushing forward by prodigious cllbrts, 
 he secured himself a position at the portal. 
 
 The lirst person who presented himself to his inquiring eyes, was 
 a irallant llji^are in a trlitterini; steel corslet, crossed bv a silken 
 sash, who bore at his side a long sword with a magnificent handle, 
 and upon his shoulder a lance of some six i'eet in length, headed 
 with a long scarlet tassel, and brass half-moon pendant. " Is not 
 Cricluon victorious?" asked Ogilvy of Captain Larchant, for he it 
 ■was, 
 
 " He hath acquitted himself to admiration," replied the guards- 
 man, who, contrary to the custom of such gentry (for captains of 
 the guard have been fine gentlemen in all ages), did not appear to 
 be displeased at this appeal to his courtesy, '"and the rector hath 
 adjudged him all the honours that can be bestowed by the uni- 
 versity." 
 
 "Hurrah for old Scotland," shouted Ogilvy, throwing his bon- 
 net in the air, "I was sure it would be so; this is a day worth 
 living for. Hccc olini meininlsse juvabit P^ 
 
 " Thou at least shall have reason to remember it," muttered Ca- 
 ravaja, who being opposite to him, heard the exclamation — " and 
 he too, perchance," he added, frowning gloomily, and drawing his 
 cloak over his shoulder. 
 
 " If the noble Cricliton be compatriot of yours, you are in the 
 right to be proud of him," replied Captain Larchant, " for the 
 memory of his deeds of this day avIU live as long as learning shall 
 be held in reverence. Never beibre hath such a marvellous display 
 of universal erudition been heard within these schools. By my 
 faith, I am absolutely wonder-stricken, and not I alone, but all. In 
 proof of which I need only tell you, that coupling his matchless 
 scholarship with his extraordinary accomplishments, the pjroiessors 
 in their address to him at the close of the controversy, have be- 
 stowed upon him the epithet of ' admirable' — an appellation by 
 which he will ever after be distinguished." 
 
 " The Admirable Crichton !" echoed Ogilvy — " hear you that ! — 
 a title adjudged to him by the whole conclave of the university — 
 hurrah! The Admirable Crichton ! 'Tis a name will lind 
 an echo in the heart of every true Scot. By Saint Andrew ! this I» 
 a proud, day for us." 
 
 "In the meantime," said Larchant, smiling at Ogilvy's exulta* 
 tions, and describing a circle witli the point of his lance, " I must 
 trouble you to stand back, INIessIeurs Scholars, and leave free pas- 
 sage ibr the rector and his train. — Archers advance, and make clea» 
 
 c2 
 
20 CRiCHTOir. 
 
 the way, and let the companies of the Baron D'Epernon and of the 
 Vicomte de Joyeuse be summoned as well as the guard of his ex- 
 cellency, Seigneur Rene de Villequier. Patience, messieurs, you 
 will hear all particulars anon." 
 
 So saying, he retired, and the men-at-arms, less complaisant 
 than their leaders, soon succeeded in forcing back the crowd. 
 
THE RECTOR OF XilE U^^1Y1:ES1TY O* i'ARIS. 21 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OP PARIS. 
 
 Tlie rector now finding; it high time to give some relaxation to these worthy 
 epirits, whicli, during sucli a long si)ace liad been so intensely bent upon the 
 abstrusest speculations, rose up, and saluting tlie divine Cricliton, after he had 
 made an elegant panegyric, or encomiastic s] cccli of half an hour's continuance, 
 tending to nothing else but the extolling of liini for the rare and most singular 
 gifts with which God and nature had endowed him, presented him with a diamond 
 ring, and a purse full of gold. — Sui Thomas Uhquuakt. 
 
 As tlic archers aclvancctl, and posted one of their number a 
 every interval of ten paces, tlic scholars drew back, and, witlj 
 almost mihtary precision, formed themselves into two solid bodies 
 
 A profound hush of expectation reigned throughout their lines 
 Each eye was directed towards the embrowned archway of tlu 
 Academy, but not a word was uttered. All remained in postures 
 as m.otionless as those of the statues of Philippc-le-Bel and Jeanne 
 de Navarre his spouse (the foundress of the institution), who looked 
 from their niches on the portal like mute spectators of the scene. 
 
 Meanwhile, from out the gateway there issued such a constant 
 stream of grave and gowned dignitaries, that the space between 
 the two files of students was presently filled up by a moving mass 
 of robes and caps. First, flourishing his rod of ollice ; a blue wand 
 plentifully besprinkled with fleurs-de-lis of gold, alternately plant 
 ing it on the ground, or elevating it in the air, with a strut an\ 
 simper worthy of IMalvolio, strode forth the clerk of the messengers, 
 who bore upon his tunic the blazon of the university, namely, a hand 
 descending from the sky, holding a book, surrounded by three 
 fleurs-de-lis, or, on a field, azure. Glancing at the scholars with 
 a supercilious smile, the herald passed on. Next came the bedels 
 and the minor bedels of all Faculties, who by some accident 
 Avere so jumbled together that it was impossible to determine or 
 arrange any order of precedence. All put their best feet fore- 
 most. IMedicine trod hard on the heels of 'I'heology and the 
 •Arts, while Civil Law appeared most uncivilly inclined to out- 
 strip all three. These bedels or grefliers were jolly robustioua 
 souls, bending beneath the weight of their ponderous silver maces, 
 and attired in gowns of black, blue, violet, or dark red, each colour 
 
2i CRICnTON. 
 
 dcnollnp^ the Faculty to which the -wcnrcr pertained. To the bedeb 
 Fuccccded a confusion worse confounded, in tlie heads of tlic Facul- 
 ties themselves, Avho strove in vain to collect together their scat- 
 tered forces, or to form them into any thing like processional array. 
 
 Violations of collegiate etiquette took place eacli instant. Here 
 was a Doctor of Theology in his black cope edged with ermine, by 
 the side of a procurcur of the Nations, in his red robe of office; a 
 propinquity which the Theologian internally execrated, and openly 
 resulted. There a Doctor of Medicine in his scarlet cope, trimmed 
 with minever, was elbowed by a licentiate of Tlieology, who hap- 
 pened to be suppler of joint, and who Avas arrayed in cope of sable 
 bordered witli wliite fur. No degrees were respected. The 
 Doctors of the Canon and Civil Law, who had kept together 
 during the debate, and whose costume consisted of scarlet robes 
 with hoods of fur, were most scandalously hustled in maintaining 
 their ground against a rush of youtliful bacliclors of Medicine. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this confusion of raiments, which were so 
 massed and heaped together as to present an almost rainbow variety 
 of tints in the rays of the setting sun — notwithstanding the utter 
 want of order which occasioned much objurgation on the part of 
 the seniors, and not a little expenditure of patience as well as of 
 ermine, by tlieir too close proximity to each other — notwithrtand- 
 ing all this, the whole body of Doctors, Professors, Bachelors, and 
 Licentiates, were unanimous upon one point — viz. that the dispu- 
 tation at which they had assisted had been more admirably con- 
 tested than any controversy since the days of Petrus Abclardus, and 
 Berengarius, and that in vanquishing them Crichton had vanquished 
 the whole world of science and learning. 
 
 Suddenly the shrill blast of a trumpet shook the air, and echoed 
 far down the hill of St. Genevieve, The call was immediately an- 
 swered by the trampling of a troop of horsemen in the distance. 
 Presently the clatter of hoofs drew nearer, and a few seconds had 
 not elapsed ere two companies, each consisting of fifty archers of 
 the body-guard, fully accoutred and superbly mounted, rode into 
 the area and drew up in the rear of the students. Besides this 
 nrray of soldiery might be seen the numerous retinue of Rene de 
 Villcquicr, composed not merely of his own lacqueys and attendants 
 in their sumptuous apparel of blue and red cloth, but of certain 
 armed cross-bowmen of the Giut Royal, headed by their chevalier^ 
 who surrounded the governor's huge unwicluly carochc of state 
 and richly caparisoned Flanders horses. Altogether it was a gal- 
 lant sight; and the scholars, though not entirely satisfied with the 
 presence of so many intruders, and perhaps not wholly unawcd by 
 their numbers, manifested no further show of discontent. 
 
 A pause now took place in the procession. The foremost in ad- 
 vance came to a halt, and the whole body wheeled round and 
 faced the college. Three semicircles were thus formed, of which 
 the professors described the inner and the lesser, the archers on 
 
THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS. 23 
 
 horseback the outer and wider, and the students the intermediate 
 and denser circle. Still, however, a small vacant space was pr*'- 
 served before the portal. 
 
 At this instant a murmur arose amongst the schoolmen. " He 
 comes, — he comes" — flew from one to other with the rapidity of 
 lightning. Four otlicr mace-bearers, walking abreast, strode deli- 
 berately through the gateway, as if tlicy had been the only objects 
 of interest, and drew up two on cither side. 
 
 The course Avas now completely unobstructed. The rector ap- 
 peared. He was a man of venerable aspect and majestic mien, and 
 well became the magnificent apparel — the ample stole of scarlet, 
 and mantle of snowy ermine, in wliich, as chief of the university, 
 he was clad. A sash of sky-blue silk crossed his robe, and sustained 
 a sumptuous velvet escarcellc, fringed with lace and decorated with 
 buttons of gold. Upon his head lie wore the square cap of a 
 Doctor of Theology. 
 
 At his side, and on his right, walked one on whom all eyes 
 were bent with wonder and curiosity. The rector and his com- 
 panion stopped without the gateway, wlien, as if they were in- 
 fluenced by some sudden and uncontrollable impulse, one long, 
 loud, continuous acclamation burst from the ranks of the scholars. 
 Nor were the graver members of tlie university silent. Even the 
 Doctors of Tlieology lent the aid of their voices; Avhiletlie archers, 
 '•aising themselves in tlieir stirrups, lifted their helmets from their 
 brows, and waving them in the air, increased and prolonged the 
 ..lamnur by tlieir vociferations. 
 
 James Cricliton possessed an exterior so striking and a manner 
 so eminently prepossessing, that his mere appearance seemed to- 
 act like a spell on the beholders. The strongest sympathy wa3- 
 mstantly and universally excited in his favour. Youth is ever in- 
 teresting; but youth so richly graced as his could not fail to- 
 produce an extraordinary impression. At the sight of him the- 
 whole aspect of things was changed. Enthusiasm, amounting 
 almost to devotion, usurped the place of animosity, and all vin- 
 dictive feelings resulting from wounded pride or other petty am oy- 
 ances, were obliterated or forgotten. Even discomfiture wore the 
 aspect of victory. 
 
 But in the demeanour of the victor no external sign of self- 
 elation was perceptible. He might not be insensible to the distinc- 
 tion of his achievement, but he did not plume himself upon it, or 
 rather, with the modesty ever inherent in true greatness, apjiea ed 
 to underrate his own success. His cheek was slightly flushed, and 
 a smile of tempered satisfaction played upon his countenance as he 
 acknowledged the stunning applauses of the concourse before him. 
 No traces of over-exertion or excitement were visible in his features 
 or deportment. His brow was unclouded, his look serene, his step 
 buoyant ; — and, as his blight eye wandered over the multitude, 
 there was not an individual upon whom his gaze momentar ly 
 tested, but he felt his heart \cv.^ within his breast. 
 
24 CRICHTON. 
 
 Th^ countenance of Crichton was one that Phidias might have 
 pourtrayed, so nearly did its elevated character of beauty approach 
 to the standard of perfection erected by the great Athenian sculp- 
 tor. Chiselled like those of some ancient head of the Delphic god, 
 the features were wrought with the utmost fineness and precision 
 — the contour of the face was classical and harmonious — the lip? 
 were firm, full, and fraught with sensibility, yet giving token of 
 dauntless resolution — the chin was proudly curved— the nose 
 Grecian — the nostril tlain and haughty — the brow ample and 
 majestical, shaded by hair of light brown, disposed in thick ringlets, 
 after the manner of the antique* There was a brilliancy and 
 freshness in Crichton's complexion, tlic more surprising, as the 
 pallid hue and debilitated look of the toil-worn student might more 
 naturally be expected in his icatures than the sparkling bloom of 
 health. A slight moustache feathered his upper lip, and a short, 
 pointed beard, clothed his cliin, and added to the manliness of his 
 aspect. 
 
 Crichton's attire, wliich partook more of his chivalrous than of his 
 scholastic character, was that of a complete gentleman of the period, 
 and was calculated to display to the utmost advantage the faultless 
 symmetry of figure Avith which nature, not less lavish than art and 
 science in her gifts, had endowed him. A doublet of white da- 
 mask, slashed with black bands of the same material, crossed by 
 other bands, so as to form a sort of grating, buttoned from the throat 
 to the girdle, and fitting closely to the person, revealed the outline 
 of his full Antinous-llke chest, as well as his slender circumference 
 of waist ; while the just proportions of his lower limbs were as ac- 
 curately defined by the satin hose, similar in colour to his doublet, 
 and similarly slashed, in which they Avere enveloped. A short 
 Spanish cloak of black velvet, edged with gold lace, hung from 
 his left shoulder, and descended as low as the elbow. His arms 
 were a rapier and a polgnard, suspended from a richly ornamented 
 girdle. Boots of bulf-skln, sharply pointed at the top, as was then 
 the mode, were fitted upon feet that seemed almost diminutive in 
 comparison with the lofty stature of the wearer. His hat was 
 looped with a diamond buckle, and crested by a single green 
 feather. 
 
 To the modern observer, perhaps the triple folds of his ruff and 
 the voluminous width of his sleeve might appear formal and redun- 
 dant ; but these exuberances were then altogether unnoticed, or 
 possibly regarded Avith as much complacency as a sleeve a gigot 
 might be at the present time. In soothe, despite its stifiiiess and ex- 
 travagance, there was something picturesque and imposing in the 
 court costume of Henri Trois (who, if he had no especial genius 
 for monarchy, had unquestionably a great talent for the toilet), that 
 amply redeemed its incongruities of taste. Crichton's figure, how- 
 
 * Crichton is described in the letter of Aldus Manutius to the Duke of Sora 
 elsewhere quoted, as "grande ui siututa, dipelo Hondo, et d'aspetto bellissimo." 
 
THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS. 25 
 
 ever, owed little to the adventitious circumstance of dress, and in 
 fact Avas wholly independent of it. 
 
 As Crichton lingered for an instant beneath the shadow of the 
 archway, the rector laid his hand upon his shoulder, with the inten- 
 tion, apparently, of arresting for a short space his further progress. 
 He Avas not, perhaps, unwilling to afford the junior members of the 
 university, wlio had been debarred from attending the disputation, 
 a momentary opportunity of noting the striking personal appear- 
 ance of one, whose name Avould long be associated with its annals, 
 or it might be that he was inlluenced by some ulterior motive. 
 Whatever occasioned the delay, it was a matter of gratulation to 
 the scholars, who renewed their applauses in consequence. 
 
 *' By the rood!" exclaimed the Sorbonist, " I am glad they have 
 come to a pause. We were out in our reckoning, Don Diego; this 
 Ciicliton is a perfect knight of romance, a Bayard as well as a 
 Politian. Was there ever such a combination of qualities? I can 
 scarce credit my senses when I look at him. Why, he hath barely a 
 beard upon his chin, and yet to vanquish all our reverend doctors! 
 Shame and contusion to tliem, and glory and renown to //z/h." 
 
 " Humph !" muttered Caravaja, " Will he pass by us, think 
 you .'' 
 
 " I know not," returned tlic Sorbonist, " let us, if possible, get 
 nearer. Mcthinks old Adrien is making up his mouth to a 
 ppcccli. He deserves to be hooted for his pains — the toothless 
 niumblcr! But we will hear what he lias to say. I'erhaps he mar 
 make out a good case. Our Scot, I see, is in the fore ranks, and 
 shouting loud enough to split our ears and his own lungs. Peace, 
 in front, I say ! Keep him in view, my hidalgo, or we may lose 
 liim in the confusion." 
 
 " I Avill do more," returned Caravaja, " I will dog him like hia 
 own shadow. Cuerpo ! he 'scapes me not, rely on it. Canst thou 
 not aid me to approach him ?" 
 
 " My elbows are at your service," replied the Sorbonist, " bravely 
 done ! We have effected a passage with more ease than I antici- 
 pated, thanks to thy sharp bones. By my faith, we are in the very 
 nick of time. Look at the Seigneurs d'Epernon and Joyeuse 
 They are accounted the handsomest, as they are the bravest of our 
 king's court; and yet, certcs, peerless cavaliers though they be, they 
 bear no comparison with this northern luminary." 
 
 " You own it !" cried Ogilvy, whom the speakers had ap- 
 proached ; " you admit my countryman's superiority — I am satis- 
 fied. Let not our quarrel go further. How say you. Sir Spaniard, 
 will you refuse me your hand? I was hasty, and reck'd not what I 
 said. We will drown the remembrance of our brawl over a stoop 
 of claret. I would willingly drink a cup to the health of our ad- 
 mirable Crichton." 
 
 Ogilvy stretched out his hand. Caravaja, however, hesitated to 
 accept it. " By the cinders of St. Anthony 1" he muttered, " the 
 dvilo must take its course." 
 
26 CRICIITON'. 
 
 " St. Anthony fovefend!" whispered the Sorbonist. " A cup of 
 claret slied in the tavern is better than blood spilt in the dtttlo. 
 Besides," he added, in a still lower key; " that need be no hind- 
 rance to the subsequent arrangement of the affair, if you see 
 fitting. I warrant me, you will readily find new grounds {ox offence. 
 Swallow f by indignation," lie continued, aloud, " and take the hand 
 of the valiant Scot." 
 
 " Bien," said Caravaja, apparently convinced by the reason- 
 ing of the Sorbonist ; " I assent. We will compotate to the healtli 
 of ' The Admirable Crichton,' since such is the epithet by which 
 he is henceforth to be distinguished." 
 
 " iMiough," said Ogilvy, grasping the hand of the Spaniard ; 
 *' quit not my side in the press — or meet me anon at the Pine 
 Apple." 
 
 " Concdude me there already," returned Caravaja. 
 
 ]\Ieantime, all the more distinguislied auditors of the disputation, 
 including the Governor of Paris, the ambassadors, the A^icomte de 
 Joyeuse, and the IJaron d'Epernon, who, with some others (ushered 
 forth by the grand master of the College of NaA'^arre, Doctor Launoi, 
 and escorted by the two principals of dialectics and philosophy), 
 had followed close upon the steps of the rector, were drawn up in a 
 small phalanx beside them, and appeared to await their further 
 movements. Amidst this group, the stately figures and magnifi- 
 cent accoutrements of the two favourites of the king stood out 
 conspicuously. Both wevc esteemed the fiower of the chivalry of 
 their time, and both were equally remarkable for their gallantry, 
 their good looks, and reckless courage. Jean-Louis de Kogaret 
 do la Valette, Baron d'Epernon possessed many brilliant qualities. 
 To his vigour and address, Henri was subsequently indebted for 
 the preservation of ids throne; and to him might be traced the idti- 
 matc overthrow of the Guises, whom he bitterly hated, and uni- 
 formly opposed. D'Epernon still wore a suit of sables in memory 
 of his brother-in-arms. Saint Megrin, assassinated by orde? 
 of the Duke of Mayenne, on suspicion of an amour with hif 
 sister-in-law, the Duchess of Guise. His mourning, however, 
 ■was of the most costly description, and his black mantle was em- 
 broidered with the cross of the Holy Ghost in orange-eoloiu'cd 
 velvet, passmented with silver, of Avhich newly-instituted order, 
 he, as well as his companion, Avas a knight-commander. Joy- 
 euse Avas radiant in orange-coloured satin, and velvet of the 
 most dazzling hues. Nothing could be more splendid than 
 his attire, unless, perhaps, it was that of Pene de Villequier, 
 who, being also a Knight Commander of the Holy Ghost, was upon 
 this occasion bedizened m all the finery of its full paraphernalia, the 
 doublet and hose of silver tissue, and the sweeping mantle of 
 black velvet bordered with fieurs-dedis of gold and tongues of 
 llamc inteimingled with tlie royal cypher. From the necks of all 
 tlncc, suspended by a blue riband, hung the decoration of the lesser 
 order, a email elaborately chased cross and dove of silver. 
 
THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS. 27 
 
 Amongst this group also were to be seen the Abbe de Brantoma 
 and the poet Ronsard. Brantome liad a picrcuig eye, a thin 
 visage, and a nose shghtly aqiiiHnc. Immense moustaches clothed 
 his long upper lip, but his lolty brow was almost entirely destitute 
 of hair. There was much of the courtier in his manner, but his 
 smile was sai-castic, and a vein of irony might be detected even 
 in his most flowery compliments. A sneer was habitual to his lips, 
 and his eye, though full and keen, was enclosed within lids of a 
 pinkisli hue and blear expression, suflicicntly indicating the liber- 
 tinage of his character. His attire was in the court fashion. His 
 doublet was of a deep blue, slashed with white, the colours of 
 Marguerite de Valois, whose miniature he wore attached to a chain 
 of medallions. lie bore, also, tlie order of St. Michael, then, 
 however, in great disrepute, and called le Collier a toute hctc. The 
 Abbe de Brantome was then a man of middle age, somewhat on 
 the wane ; and liis frame appeared prematurely witlicred. His 
 shoulders were bent, and his legs shrunk within liis ho^e. His look 
 was sharp, suspicious penetrating; and his general manner that 
 of a shrewd and accurate observer. 
 
 Age, and perhaps the life of sensuality he was known to have 
 led, liad indeed connnitted sad havoc upon the once well-fa voiued 
 peison of the poet Ronsard. He was no longer the hcaii Parje 
 whose manner fascinated James of Scotland, and, perchance, his 
 Queen. Nor was he what he sung of himsell", when, near his 
 fortieth year, he said — 
 
 " Trentc et sept ans passez, et encore n"ai-je atteint 
 Dans, ni de malaclic, et en toutes les sortes 
 j\Ics nerfs sont bien tendiis, et mes veines bicn fortes ; 
 I'.t si jai le teint pale et le cheveu grison, 
 i\Ies menibres toutefois sont liors de saison." 
 
 He now complained both of ill health and years. Such locks ag 
 remained had become " sable silvered." His tint of skin was dull 
 and deadly pale; and, so grievously tormented was he ^\•ith his old 
 enemy, the gout, that he ■was compelled to support his frame, at 
 least on the present occasion, upon a crutch. Nevertheless, though 
 gross of person, the countenance of the poet was handsome and 
 intelligeut, and, except when an awkward twinge crossed it, ex- 
 pressive of extreme good humour. 
 
 " Methlnks, my dear Abbe," said Ronsard, looking around 
 with some uneasiness, and addressing Brantome, "it were scarce 
 wise to have called together this tumultuous array. Our C:csar 
 may be crowned in the Capitol while we are sacrificed at his 
 o\ation. I am too well acquainted with the force of the poet's 
 words — 
 
 ^lonstrari digito et dicier ' hie est' — 
 
 as occasionally exemplified towards me by the students, to desire 
 any further illustration of their abihties in my own person." 
 
 *' You have changed your tune since the reception of your last 
 
28 CRICHTON. 
 
 masque, brother bard," said Chicot, who had forced himself, un- 
 perceived, amongst them. " These same scholars, I remember, 
 were once the only patrons of the Muses. Now they have lost 
 their discrimination. But give yourself no trouble : you will pass 
 unnoticed this time, depend on't, gossip. Even I, you see, lor a 
 marvel, have escaped attention." 
 
 " Then, of a surety, I will put myself under thy escort," said the 
 poet, seizing the arm of the jester. "It was the abandonment of 
 folly that liath brouulit me into disrepute. Thou shalt help me to 
 amend. But what hath brought one of thy caUing into the haunts 
 of wisdom, my nierrv gossip ?" 
 
 " Wisdom and fully are nearer akin than you suppose," returned 
 Chicot; " and fools who have soared to a greater height than I can 
 ever aspire, have been caught within these owl-roosts. 1 like a 
 fine siirht as well as my nei":hbours : and thou'di I care not to be 
 bespattered Avith a shower of ons and utrums, or sit out a twelve- 
 hours' bout of rhetoric and philosophy, where, if one man hath not 
 all the talk to himself, he, at least, doth his best to silence his com- 
 rades, I am mightily pleased to come in, as it were, for the last act 
 of a dull comedy, and to enjoy a laugh at the veteran stagers who 
 have been driven off the boards by a youthful actor, who, though 
 he hath spent but a tithe of the time in the service, understandcth 
 their craft better than themselves." 
 
 " Have a care, sirrah," said Brantomc; " thou art within hear- 
 ing of James Crichton." 
 
 "James Crichton will acquit me of flattery, tlien," rejoined 
 the jester. " I am one of those who speak truth behind a man's 
 back, and falsehood to his face, and care not to avouch it. Fierre 
 de Bourdeillc, a word in thine ear ! Tliou wearcst thy mistress's 
 colours on thy pourpoint, and her miniature at thy neck, but she 
 hath another image than thine at her heart. Take a fool's counsel, 
 and forget her." 
 
 Brantome reddened with anger; but Chicot, who liad all the 
 galling pertinacity of a gadfly, continued, 
 
 " You who are so well versed in history, seigneur, will assuredly 
 recollect the tradition of the fair queen, who founded this old pile, 
 and whose statue graces its doorway, how, above all her courtly 
 train, she smiled upon the scliohr Buridan ; and how, within her 
 bower upon the Seine, she — but you mind the tale, I see — me- 
 thinks we might find a modern parallel to that ancient legend. 
 After all, Jeanne de Navarre was but a fickle jade, and played her 
 lovers scurvy tricks. Ha! ha!" And bursting into a loud laugh, 
 the jester flew to the side of the Vicomte de Joycuse for pro- 
 tection. 
 
 "Well encountered, cousin D'Arques," he said; "our dear 
 Henriot needed thy presence at the fair of Saint Germain this 
 morning. Hadst thou or D'Epernon been with him, the insult he 
 brooked would not have passed unnoticed." 
 
THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS. 29 
 
 " What Insult do you allude to?" asked the vicomtc, eagerly. 
 *' Let nic hear it, that I may yet avenge it !" 
 
 " 'Tis a matter of little moment,"" returned Chicot ; " you shall 
 know anon — that is, Avhen your escort draws up to the gateway. 
 It relates to yon graceless students, who have been studying court 
 fashions rather than scholarly discourse ; and having plucked a 
 leaf out of your books, have twisted it fool-fashion round their 
 necks, as you perceive." 
 
 " I observe them," replied Joyeuse. " 'Tis an insolent device 
 of the Guise or his faction. I would brain the knaves, but it were 
 idle to bestow a thouglit on the puppets while the charlatan show- 
 man is to be met with " 
 
 " Our gossip, Henriot, thought otherwise," said the jester, 
 "when these varlets roared within ear-shot of him, ' a la /raise on 
 conniHf le vemi !' " 
 
 " ]\Iort-Dieu !" exclaimed Joyeuse. " What ho ! there, Captain 
 Larchant ! ;^unlmon my company of archers, and give me my 
 horse ! To the saddle, D'Epernon, and bring up thy quar ante-cinq. 
 We will disperse this rabble rout ! We will bind them hand and 
 heel — scourge them to the bone — slay in case of resistance ! — to 
 the saddle, 1 say !" 
 
 " jNIoderate your choler, Joyeuse," said D'Epernon, holding back 
 the vicomte, and addressing him in a low tone. '' You Avill only 
 incur his majesty's displeasure by involvingyourself in a broil with 
 the University, and gladden the hearts of the Guisards and tlic 
 Leaguers, who would rejoice in your rashness. The present is not 
 iitting season for retaliation. We will find surer means of ven- 
 geance." 
 
 " I would spurn the canaille beneath my charger's feet," replied 
 Joyeuse, " but be it as you will. The rector, I know, is an jealous 
 of his privileges as the Guise of his duchess, and we might not, 
 perhaps, have suflicient plea of justification. Let him hang the 
 knaves himself, and I am satisfied. 'Twill save the provost marshal 
 a labour." 
 
 " All in good time," replied D'Epernon, "and his conference 
 with Crichton concluded, the rector appears inclined to address 
 his cari a/ninni. I trust in terms of sufficient reprobation." 
 
 The rector, who had, apparently much against Crichton's in- 
 clination, detained him in earnest conversation at the portal, now 
 turned towards the scholars, intimating his intention of addi'essing 
 them. The clamour ceased as soon as his gestures were understood. 
 
 "Messieurs scholars of the University of Paris," lie said, "you 
 have already learned, I doubt not, that your most erudite doctora 
 and professors have this day sustained a defeat; a defeat, how- 
 ever, v;hich, while it reflects no disgrace on the conquered, 
 enhances the glory of the victor. In the whole circle of science 
 and learning James Crichton hath approved his supremacy, and 
 we willingly surrender to him our laurels. May he long continue 
 
80 CKicnxoN. 
 
 to w'c:ir them, and may his career, the dawn of which is so brilliant, 
 be equally jilorious at its close ! Like the great poet Dante he 
 came hither unknown, l^ike Dante he departeth with a reputation 
 ^vhich will be blazed tliroughout all the schools of Europe. In 
 earnest of tlie profound admiration Avhich, in common with all the 
 principals of the university, I entertain for his transcendant abilities 
 and matchless scholarship, in their names and in my own name, in 
 your behalf and in that of every member of the university by 
 ■s\"hom learning is reverenced, and with whom genius is held sacred, 
 I would tender lor his acceptance, as a mark of our esteem and 
 veneration, this ring; which I trust he will not disdain to wear 
 upon his person as a trophy of the conquest he has this day 
 nchicved, arid in remembrance of the university he has vanquished. 
 And that every member of the university may participate in this 
 expression of our sentiments towards the Admirable Crichton, I 
 have taken this public opportunity of their manifestation. Scholars 
 of Paris, have I not your approval and concurrence ?" 
 
 A thunder of applause succeeded the rector's oration, and a thou- 
 tand hurrahs responded to his appeal. All eyes were iiow turned to 
 Cricliton, who, it was evident, only awaited a cessation of the cla- 
 mour to address the assemblage in his turn. Silence was instantly 
 commanded; and scarce a breath was drawn as he spoke, so intent 
 were all upon catching each syllable that fell from his lips. 
 
 '' When the Phoenix of his age," began Crichton, in a voice distinct 
 and musical, "and the favourite of the jNIuscs, Picus of Mirandula, 
 was proftered all t'.ie honours of the Roman School, he declined them, 
 saying that he felt his own unworthincss, and that he had acquired 
 more distinction than was his due in having obtained a hearing at 
 their hands. In imitation of the conduct of this illustrious prince, 
 though with far less claim to the same honourable note, I would 
 say that I neither deserve nor desire further distinction than I have 
 gained. Fortune has already favoured me beyond my deserts. I 
 have engaged in amicable strife with men whose intellectual supe- 
 riority 1 am ready to acknowledge, and who, if I have worsted 
 them in argument, have been foiled solely because I made a better 
 choice of weapons, and happened to be the more skilful in their use. 
 I am not blinded by self-esteem. I do not attribute my victory 
 to other than its ri'dit causes. Like most of the li-rcat events of 
 life, its issue has been the result of chance, which has upon this 
 occasion declared itself in my favour. Were the contest to be 
 renewed on the morj:ow, 1 might be placed in the position of my 
 opponents. Courtesy to a stranger, and consideration for his youth, 
 have restrained my adversaries from putting forth their strength. 
 Some such i'celings must have had their influence. Grant, how- 
 ever, that 1 have triumphed. You have bestowed upon me your 
 applause. I am fully requited. Trophies of victory which may 
 be wrested from me as soon as won are of little avail. Better 
 
THE HECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS. 31 
 
 men may fippear — Plures liahet Sjxiria Biasidd vkUhtl's. My 
 ambition has a hundred goals, ^Yhich it would lain reach. 
 
 " Magnum iter intemlo, scd dat niilii gloria vires." 
 
 " Live Crichton ! Live the Admirable Crichton ! — Ev(je Optimet 
 Kvge! Eiige r shouted the scholars. 
 
 Crichton gracefully saluted the assemblage and woidJ liave le- 
 tircd, if he had not been witldield by the rector. " You m.ust per- 
 force accept this gem," said the latter; " the gifts of the University of 
 I'aris are not Avont to be slighted," and taking a brilliant diamond 
 ring from his forefinger, and loosening the velvet cscarcelle from 
 his sash, Mcssirc Adrien d'Amboisc presented them to Crichton. 
 
 " I may not decline your ollcr," replied Crichton, reluctantly re- 
 ceiving the prolleredgem, " since you thus press it upon me, though 
 I feel how little I merit it. The ring I shall prize, but as to the 
 contents of the purse, you must suHer me to dispose of them as I 
 shall sec fitting." 
 
 " The purse is yours; do with its contents what you think proper," 
 said the rector. 
 
 Crichton removed the ring, and taking forth the crowns of 
 gold with which the cscarcelle was filled, threw them amongst 
 the crowd of scholars. A violent commotion ensued, during 
 v.-hich many of the students broke through the lines and ap- 
 proached close to the persons of Crichton and the rector. One of 
 these, a youth, who for some space had held his green mantle be- 
 fore his face, now rushed forward, and prostrating himself before 
 Crichton, threw down a garland of twisted bay-leaves at his feet. 
 
 " Disdain not my offering, Seigneur Crichton," he said, in a low 
 and timid voice, " simple though it be, and all unworthy your ac- 
 ceptance. I will myself wind it round your brows, if I receive your 
 gracious permission to do so.*" 
 
 " Retire, thou forward youth," said the rector, gravely. " This is 
 presumption." 
 
 '• I pray you excuse him," said Crichton, " the compliment is too 
 flattering to be declined, and, let me add, the mode in which it is 
 conveyed is too graceful to be unwelcome. I accept your wreath, 
 young sir, and beg you to arise. Eut wheretbre," he ailded, 
 with a smile, " did you imagine I should come off victorious? 
 Surely tliere was nothing to warrant such a conclusion. And liad 
 I returned ingloriously, this garland would have been wholly 
 thrown av/ay." 
 
 The youth arose, and fixed his dark eyes full upon Crichton'a 
 countenance. " Whatever the Admirable Crichton shall undertake, 
 in that he will excel all men," he said. "With him to engage in 
 a contlict is to obtain a victory. I was assured of his success." 
 
 " Your looks are sincere, and I will not distrust your words," re- 
 plied Crichton. " Your face resembles one I have seen, thou^jb. 
 where I cannot call to mind. Are you of these colleges ?" 
 
32 CRicnxoN. 
 
 " He is one of the Gelosi, ?iv," said Ocrilvy, wlio, togetlier with 
 Caravaja and the Sorbonist, had forced liimsclf into the vicinity of 
 Crichton. " Be not deceived by his honest look, as I have been. 
 Hence, youth, and take thy mnmincrics with tliee." 
 
 " One of the Gelosi !" exclaimed Crichton. " Ha ! now I remem- 
 ber the features. 'Tis tlie youth I have seen so oft. But why 
 avert thy liead, gentle boy? I have said nothing, I trust, to wound 
 thy feelings ?" 
 
 The Geloso appeared crimsoned with shame. *' Tell me," con- 
 tinued Crichton, "what may mean that masked figure whom I have 
 seen for e\'er hovering nigh thee in thy walks? nay, that seems like 
 thy shadow at the Hotel de Bourbon. Is it a device of thine own 
 to attract curiosity, young sir? If so, I can tell thee thou hast 
 succeeded. Even the royal Henri has noticed the singularity of 
 the figure." 
 
 "Have you, likewise, remarked that mask, signer?" replied tlie 
 Geloso, with an expression of uneasiness almost amounting to ter- 
 ror. " I have often thought it a trick of my own imagination. But 
 you have seen it likewise !" 
 
 '' I have," replied Crichton; " but methinks you answer evasively. 
 I thought more of sincerity dwelt in those earnest eyes. Your 
 present action is but, I fear, an artifice to win attention." 
 
 So saying he turned from him. The Geloso attempted to 
 reply, but retired abashed. Ogilvy was about to thrust him back, 
 but perceiving that the youth had shrouded his face with his 
 mantle, and voluntarily withdrawn himself, he desisted. 
 
 There was something in the manner of the youth that struck 
 Crichton; and his feelings reproached him with undue severity to- 
 wards him. Laying his hand upon his shoulder, he addressed a 
 few words to him in a more kindly tone. 
 
 The Geloso raised his eyes. The black orbs were filled with 
 tears. He looked with a blinded gaze on Crichton, and thence at 
 the hand which he still suffered to remain upon his shoulder. Sud- 
 denly he started. He pressed his hand across his eyes. He pointed 
 to Crichton's finger. " The ring!" he exclaimed. " Did you not 
 place it there?" 
 
 Surprised at the youth's emotion, and at the inquiry, Crichton 
 looked at the finger upon which he had scarcely a moment ago 
 placed tlie gift of the rector. The ring was wanting. 
 
 Unable to account for this extraordinary occurrence, and not 
 without some suspicions of the youth himself, Crichton fixed u 
 cold scrutinising glance upon hiiu. The Geloso shuddered slightly 
 at the expression of his glance, but quailed not beneath it. " He 
 cannot have done it," thought Crichton. " Falsehood could not 
 dwell in looks so guileless." 
 
 At this instant there was a further rush amongst the scholars. 
 Ogilvy and the Geloso were forcibly propelled against Crichton. 
 A kmfe was seen to glitter in the air. From its position it seemed 
 
AN ENGLISH BULL- DOG. 32 
 
 to be grasped by the hand of Ogilvy. For an instant the steel 
 was suspended over the head of Crichton. The Geloso saw it. 
 Uttering a loud ciy of warning, he tlir^'w himself in the way of 
 the blow. The blade descended. The arms of the youth were 
 entwined round Crichton's neck. In an instant he found himself 
 deluged in blood. 
 
 With Crichton to draw his sword— to sustain the almost in- 
 animate body of the Geloso, was the work of an instant. 
 
 " This is the assassin !" he shouted. And with the hand that was 
 still at liberty, and with a force that seemed almost superhuman, 
 he grasped the throat of the paralysed Ogilvy. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN ENGLISH BULL DOG. 
 As sure a dog as ever fought at head. — Titus Andronhus. 
 
 A CRY arose amongst the scholars that Crichton had been assas- 
 sinated, and such was the confusion that prevailed in his vicinity, 
 that for some space the truth or falsehood of the report could not 
 be ascertained. 
 
 The crowd was fearfully incensed. They demanded that the 
 assassin should be given up to their vengeance. Yelling, groaninir, 
 uttering threats and imprecations, they pressed forward — at the 
 sides, in front, in all directions. The archers, stationed as a foot- 
 guard around the doctors and professors, were incontinently carried 
 off their legs. The principals of the colleges immediately beat a 
 retreat, and betook themselves for refuge to the hall of the institu- 
 tion they had so recently quitted. Affairs assumed a very ominous 
 aspect. Bludgeons were waved in tlie air; blows were dealt indis- 
 criminately, and many a pretended random stroke wiped off old 
 scores with some rigid disciplinarian who had not been sufficiently 
 alert to eflect his escape. In vain did the Rector strive to check this 
 rising storm. His voice, wont to be listened to with awe, was 
 unheard or unheeded amid the tumult. 
 
 " Los aux Ecoles !" shouted the scholars, pressing forward. 
 
 " Los aux Ecoles !" cried Chicot, who, safely ensconced within 
 the gateway, eyed the raging mob at a distance. " I never hear 
 that cry but I think of the screaming of a pack of gulls before a 
 tempest. JNlischief is siu"e to be brewing." 
 
 " Their cursed croaking resembles that of the frogs in Aristo- 
 phanes," said Ronsard ; " would it might end in crocitation ! I 
 propliesied evil from the moment I beheld this rabble." 
 
 '* I trust you Avill rather approve yourself Votes in its poetic than 
 its prophetic sense," replied Brantome "I own my mind mis- 
 gives me." 
 
 " Methlnks, my lord," said Rene de Villequier to the Rector, " it 
 were well to nip this riot in the bud. Some lives may else be 
 
 D 
 
34 CIIICIITOX. 
 
 lost. Sfie — they approach the assassin — they seize him — they drai^ 
 him from the grasp of Crichton. jNlort-dieu ! my lord, they •will 
 tear him in pieces — this must he pievi;nted, we must not stand by 
 and see outrage like this committed." 
 
 " The butcheis!" shouted Joyeuse. " Crichton himself will be 
 endangered. By my halidom ! I will bring down my archers upon 
 them !— " 
 
 " Stay, my lord, an instant, I implore of you," said the Rector, 
 *' my presence will restrain their violence. I will go amongst them 
 myselt^ — they dare not disobey my mandates." 
 
 And accompanied by the grand master of tlie College of Na- 
 varre, the Rector forced his way towa'-ds the principal scene of strife. 
 
 "Give them this further chanct," said D'Epernon to the 
 vicomte, who was ^.-haling like :t high -mettled steed with im- 
 patience. " If they heed not. their Rector then — " 
 
 " Los aux Ecoles," replied Chicot, with a laugh. "We shall 
 have a pleasant specimen of their chivalry anon. By my marotte, 
 they are in no mood to listen to a dissertation now." 
 
 " 'Tis a waste of time," cried Joyeuse, " forbearance is thrown 
 away. When the king's majesty is not held sacred by these felon 
 scholars, how can their Rector expect obedience from, them? To 
 my side, Larchant — t}j. ava/itf" And drawing his sword, and 
 attended by the captain oi the guard, the vicomte flung himself 
 headlong into the press. 
 
 Intelligence that Crichton was unhurt somewhat abated the 
 frenzy of the multitude. Still they were veheinently excited. 
 Ogilvyhad been dragged from Crichton's grasp, and was threatened 
 with instant immolation. Deprived of utterance by the choaking 
 gripe of Crich.ton ; stmmed by the bullets of the students, 
 it was oniy in this perilous extremity that he recovered his power 
 of speech. With a force that could only have been given him by 
 despair, he burst from their hold and shouted to Crichton for aicl. 
 He was instantly retaken, and his cries drowned by a roar of 
 mockery from the ruthless mob. 
 
 "Call on Crichton lor protection I" shouted Caravaja. who had 
 been a prominent instrument m assailing the unfortunate Scot, 
 and who indulged in a savage rejoicing at his situation. " As 
 well might the serpent sue for protection to the heel it hath bitten, 
 as thou implore succour from him thou wouldst have slain. But 
 thy countrjnian, thou scest, turns a deaf ear to thy plaints — 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 " Surely mine ears deceiAcd me," said Crichton, who, with 
 liis broidered kerchief Avas busied in staunching the wound of 
 the Geloso, and who had only caught this latter exclamation of 
 the Spaniard. " Can it be that the assassin is countryman of 
 Dime .'' 
 
 " 'Tis even so, Senor Crichton," replied Caravaja. " To hia 
 eternal infamy be it spoken." 
 
AN ENGLISH BULL-DOG. 35 
 
 " Hear me, noble Crichton!" shouted Ogilvy, whom the Spaniard 
 vainly endtavoured to silence. " Think me not guilty of this foul 
 offence. I care not for death, but I would not die dishonoured. 
 I would not perish charged with a deed Avhich my soul abhorreth. 
 I am no assassin. I am Jasper Ogilvy, of Balfour." 
 
 '' Hold !" exclaimed Crichton, consigning his yet inanimate 
 burthen to the care of a bystander, and pressing towards Ogilvy, 
 " let me speak with this man. Give me some token that 1 may 
 know thou art he whom thou callest thyself Thy voice brings 
 back by-gone days ; but I can discern nought of Jasper Ogilvy in 
 those blood-stained features." 
 
 " You would not know my visage, were it freed from its stain," 
 returned Ogilvy. ''We both have grown to manhood since we 
 met ; but you will call to mind a moonlight cruise upon the lake 
 of Cluny, years ago, when a noble youth was saved from perishing 
 in its waters. To me the recollection of that deed hath been ever 
 sweet; to-day it hath been proud. Let me but establish my truth 
 with you, honoured sir, and these hell-hounds may do their 
 worst." 
 
 " You have said enough; I am satisfied, more than satisfied," 
 replied Crichton. " Messieurs, release this young man. He is 
 wliolly guiltless of the crime laid to his charge. 1 will answer for 
 him with my life." 
 
 The scholars replied witli a laugh of incredulity. 
 
 " We have only his bare word lor his innocence," replied the 
 Bernardin. " Appearances are sadly against him." 
 
 " This knife was within his vest when we dragged him from the 
 Seiior Crichton," added Caravaja, holding up an ensanguined 
 blade. " For los Revelationes de San Juan ! this, methinks, is 
 proof unanswerable."' 
 
 A volley of execrations answered this appeal to the passions of 
 the multitude. 
 
 " Thou licst," cried Ogilvy, struggling to set free his liands; 
 *' that poignard is thine own; my dirk hangs at my girdle — would 
 it were now within my grasp !" 
 
 *' Produce the weapon, then," said Caravaja. And he thrust 
 his hand into the Scot's torn doublet. " Ha !" exclaimed he, sud- 
 denly, what have I found ? Por nuestra Senora ! 'tis the diamond 
 ring, with the cipher of the university. He is a robber as well as 
 an assassin." 
 
 A sudden light seemed to break upon Crichton. 
 
 " Let the accuser and the accused both be brought before the 
 Rector," he cried. 
 
 A murmur arose amongst the scholars. 
 
 *' He would shield his countryman," they vociferated; '* we are 
 satisfied of his guilt." 
 
 "But you are not to constitute yourselves his judges," rephed 
 Crichton, sternly. "Deliver him to the proper authorities; let 
 
 D 2 
 
36 CRICHTON. 
 
 that Spaniard, who stands forth his accuser, he secured ; and I ane 
 
 satisfied."" 
 
 " Mighty well !" returned Caravaja. "All I get for my ex- 
 ertions in seizing the assassin is to be accused of the crime myself. 
 But if you are so readily gulled by your countryman's subterfuge, 
 Senor Crichton, my comrades are not so easily imposed upon. Hijo 
 di Dios ! they know me too well to suspect me of any such 
 enormity." 
 
 " The scholars of Paris are apt to take the law into their own 
 hands upon occasions like the present, where the guilt of the 
 offender is manifestly established," said the Sorbonist. " It is the 
 part of their privileges to adjudicate their own causes, and they 
 are always wiUing to abide by the consequences of their own de- 
 cisions. We have sentenced this man to run the gauntlet of the 
 schools, and he shall not escape. Wherefore do we delay, comrades?" 
 
 " Ay, wherefore ?" rejoined Carav?ja. 
 
 " Beware," shouted Crichton, in a voice of thunder, "how you 
 proceed to further acts of violence. My respect for your university 
 has thus long withheld me ; but I will not stand by and see out- 
 rage committed." 
 
 " I am witli you," said the English student, Simon Blount, 
 advancing towards him, and still followed by his huge bull-dog, 
 " Your countryman shall suffer no wrong, while I have staff to 
 wield, or blade to draw in his defence. And as to the merits of 
 his case, I have as little doubt of his innocence, as I have assurance 
 of yon cut-throat Spaniard's guilt. But in any case, he shall not 
 be put to death without judge or jury. What, ho ! Druid," added 
 he, glancing significantly at his dog, " it will be time to shp thy 
 muzzle in case these curs show their teeth." 
 
 At this juncture, the Rector and the Doctor Launoy made their 
 appearance. 
 
 " Hear me, my children," said the Rector, in a loud voice, 
 "justice shall be dealt upon this Scot. Deliver him into the 
 custody of the sergeant of the guard now in attendance upon me, 
 and I pledge myself to the instant examination of his case. What 
 more can you require ? By your threatened violence, you will 
 only add one crime to another, and increase the scandal you have 
 already brought upon the university." 
 
 Crichton conferred an instant with the Rector, who apparently 
 acquiesced in the propriety of the suggestion made to him. 
 
 '' Disperse at once ; and let each man seek his respective 
 college," continued Adrian D'Amboise, with some severity. 
 " !>ergeant, advance, and seize upon the persons of Jasper Ogilvy, 
 of the Ecossais, and Diego Caravaja of the college of Narbonne. 
 Messieurs Scholars, give him your aid. Ah ! do you hesitate ? — 
 is it possible that you venture to disobey the paternal injunction of 
 the father of the university — what frenzy is this ?' 
 
 A siillen murmur ran through the battalion of the scholars ; and 
 
AN ENGLISH BULL-DOG. 37 
 
 Buch was tlieir threatening aspect, that the sergeant of the guard 
 hesitated to obey the command of the Rector. 
 
 " Why should we respect his mandates ?" muttered the Sor- 
 bonist. " 'Tis plain we are but lightly considered at his paternal 
 hands. Let the Father of the University tell us why his Children 
 were excluded from the disputation this morning, and we will then 
 perpend the propriety of compliance with his request." 
 
 " Ay, let him answer that," said the Bernardin. 
 
 " 'Twould shrewdly perplex him to do so," returned Caravaja. 
 ** By the perdition of the world ! I will surrender myself to no 
 man living, sergeant or rector, Scot or Englishman ; and to show 
 them how little I regard their threats, if no other can be found to 
 smite this starveling bravo, my hand shall deal the first blow."" 
 
 Caravaja raised his knife with the intent to strike. At that in- 
 stant, however, he was seized by a nervous grasp, and hurled 
 backwards with such force, that, muttering an oath, he fell 
 heavily to the ground. Crichton, for it was by his hand that 
 the Spaniard had been prostrated, threw himself amongst the ranks 
 of tlie scholars with such irresistible iorce, that their united efforts 
 were unable to withstand him. Shaking oil' Ogilvv's captors, he 
 placed a poignard Avidiin his grasp, and, drawing his own sword, 
 calmly awaited the further assault of the stutlcnts. 
 
 Rugged and resolute as the bull-dog at his heels, Blount fol- 
 lowed closely in his rear. Confining himself to the warding off a 
 few blows, aimed at Crichton, he at lirst dealt none in return ; but 
 he could not long act upon the defensive. A rude bullet on the 
 head aroused his ire. He then laid about him with such good- 
 will and determination, that an opponent dropped for every blow 
 of his cudgel, which was not a vine- wood stailj but a huge Englisli 
 crab-stick, seasoned, knotty, and substantial. The might of twenty 
 threshers seemed to reside in Blounts single arm. Sconces Avere 
 cracked by him with as much ease as a boy for pastime would beat in 
 pieces as many gourds. The Sorbonist ventured to oppose his estoc 
 against the Englishman's club. The sophister, however, had now 
 a more difficult thesis to maintain than any he had hitherto de- 
 fended. His postulate was effectually blanked by Bloimt's knotty 
 rejoinder. Yielding to the weighty blow, the supple vine-staff 
 fled from his grasp, spinning throuirh the air to a considerable 
 distance, while the arm that sustained it, shattered by the stroke, 
 sank powerless to his side. 
 
 INIeantime, Ogilvy and Crichton were not left unmolested. 
 Placed back to back, both stood in postures of defence. Uttering 
 frightful yells, and brandishing their staves, the scholars furiously 
 commenced the assault. Caravaja, who had regained his feet, was 
 amongst the foremost of the assailants. 
 
 " By Saint James of Compostella !" he roared, *' 1 wdl wash out, 
 in blood, the stain he hath put on our academies, and on myself 
 Give way; look to thyself, proud Scot." And pressing forward, 
 he made a desperate thrust at Crichton. 
 
38 CrtlCHTON. 
 
 Caravaja was no contemptible swordsman ; but he had to do with 
 an antagonist unequalled in the art of self-defence. His thrust waa 
 parried with infinite dexterity, and after the excliange of a few 
 lierce and rapid passes, his long Toledo was twisted from his gi'asp, 
 and he lay at the mercy of his adversary. Crichton, however, 
 forbore to strike ; but dismissed his foe as one unworthy of his 
 steel. Gnashing his teeth with rage, Caravaja sought a new wea- 
 pon ; and encouraging each other by shouts and cries, the scholars 
 etill pressed madly on. 
 
 One amongst their number, of colossal stature, noted amongst 
 his brethren for extraordinary athletic feats, and rejoicing in the 
 Rabelaisian sobriquet of Loupgarou, advanced deliberately towards 
 him. He wielded a bar of iron, and while Crichton was engaged 
 on all sides, he discharged a tremendous blow full at his head. 
 The ponderous weapon descended, but Crichton had foreseen the 
 stroke and averted it, not, however, Avithout some loss. Such was 
 the force of the blow, that his sword blade, though of the best 
 tempered steel, Avas shivered at the hilt. 
 
 It was now that Cricliton's great personal strength, and remark- 
 able activity, stood him in admirable stead. Without allowing 
 his gigantic antagonist time to repeat his blow, he sprang forward 
 and grappled him with an energy that shook his Herculean Irame 
 to its foundation. The Anta2us of the schools reeled. For the 
 first time he had met with his match. Locked in Crichton's gripe, 
 Loupgarou could neither disentangle his right arm, nor bring his 
 unwieldy powers into play. He could scarcely even draw breath, 
 and his brawny chest heaved like a labouring mountain. 
 
 Confident of the result of the strife, and unwilling to deprive 
 their champion of the entire honours of conquest, the scholars sus- 
 pended further hostilities against Crichton, and directed their at- 
 'acks upon Ogilvy and Blount. Abandoned by his comrades, 
 Loupgarou was ashamed to roar for aid ; and experienced some 
 such qualms as fell to the share of his namesake when struggling 
 within the clutch of the redoubted Pantagrviel. Like a tuwer 
 shaken from its equilibrium by the blast of the miner, he tottered 
 on his base, and with a concussion heard above the din of the 
 fray, he fell to the ground, deprived of sense and motion. 
 
 Snatching the bar from the relaxed grasp of his adversary, Crich- 
 ton was about to rejoin his comrades, when his attention was 
 suddenly drawn to a new quarter. Hearing his own name called 
 upon, as he thought, by the voice of the Geloso, followed by a loud 
 shriek for help, he strove to force his way in the direction of the 
 sound. 
 
 Ogilvy, meantime, found an unexpected and most efficient ally 
 in the Englishman's dog, Druid. Galled by the fierce and per- 
 tinacious assaults of his enemies, Blount suddenly slipped the 
 muzzle of the savage animal, and he rushed at the scholars. Blount 
 directed his attacks, and cheered him on. Blows availed nothing 
 
o 
 
COSMO RUGGIERI. 39 
 
 against the toiigli liidc of the hardy animal, and served only to in- 
 cense him. He raged amongst them like a wolf in a lamb-p:isture. 
 
 Tain would the students have taken to their heels, but retreat 
 was impossible. Those beliind pushed forward the ranks in front. 
 Shrieks and execrations evidenced tlie devastation of the relentless 
 pursuer. His teeth met in the legs of one, in the arms of another, 
 in the throat of a thirtl. 
 
 A space w^as quickly cleared around Blount and Ogih-y by tlioir 
 staunch partisan. With his back on the ground — his face shielded 
 by his hands to protect himself from the teeth of the dog, by Avhom 
 he had been pinned to the eartli, lay the prostrate form of the Ber- 
 nardin. Planting his licavy paws upon his neck, and sprawling 
 over the body of the half-dead scholar, Druid upturned his glowing 
 eyeballs to liis master, as if to inquire whether or not he should 
 complete his Avork of destruction. It Avas a critical moment for the 
 Bernardin. 
 
 Just then, however, the clatter of swords, the trampling of steeds, 
 and shouts of "Joyeuse, to the rescue!'' announced that the vi- 
 comte had reached his company of archers. With a swoop like 
 that of an eagle upon a flock of meaner fowl — and with his 
 charger rearing into the air, Joyeuse dashed amongst the multitude^ 
 
 On the other hand came the halberdiers of the Rector and the 
 lacqueys of Rene de Villequler with bills and partisans ; and, fur- 
 thermore, the crowd was invested to the right by the Avell disci- 
 plined ^«ara??fe Ci77(j, under the command of the Baron D'Epernon. 
 Thus menaced on all sides, the scholars found themselves iri an 
 awkward predicament. At first there was a murmur of " Down 
 with the minions! — Down with the Gascon cuujxy/irrtfs !'"' but 
 these cries we^-e speedily silenced. A few strokes from the blunt 
 edges of the swords of the guardsmen, and their staves were thrown 
 to the ground in token of submission. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 COSMO RUGGIERI. 
 
 Icy pros, dist Epistcnion, demoure Her Trippa, vous S(,'avez comment par art 
 d'Astrolo.uie, Gcomancie, Cliirumanrie, et aiiltrcs de pareillc fariiie. il jirtdict 
 toutes (.'hoses futures ; conteions de vostre ati'aire avec lui. De cela, respondit 
 Panurge, je ne s^ay rien. — Rabelais. — Pantugruel. — Liv. III. 
 
 The by-standcr to whom Crichton committed the inanimate 
 Geloso, when he rushed to the assistance of Ogilvy, received his 
 charge with an eager readiness, that almost appeared as if he liad 
 antici].)ated the event. Shielding his burden with his arms, and 
 unwilling, it would seem, to attract further attention, he endea- 
 voured to extricate himself from the crowd. 
 
 He was a little old man, of singular and inauspicious appearance, 
 dressed in a floM-ing robe of black tafleta, lined witli llame-coloured 
 eilk, and edged with sable fur. In lieu of doublet and hose, he 
 
40 CRICIITON. 
 
 wore a ricli gown of crimson velvet, fastened round the waist with 
 a silken cord, in the which was stuck a costly purse, embroidered 
 with the arms of Catherine de Medicis. A collar of medallions, 
 graven with cabalistic characters, hung over his shoulder, and upon 
 his head he wore a small scull- cap of purple velvet. He bore 
 neither arms nor device of any sort beyond the blazon of the Queeu 
 Mother. His forehead would have appeared venerable from its 
 height, baldness, and innumerable wrinkles, had not his black 
 scowling brows given it a sinister and portentous look. His temples 
 were hollow and sunken; his cheeks emaciated; the colour of his 
 skin was sallow and jaundiced, and its texture like that of shrivelled 
 parchment. His nose Avas high and aquilme, tufted between the 
 eyes with a clump of dusky hair; and the whole expression of 
 his features was crafty, suspicious, and malignant. \\'hen erect, 
 his stature might have been lofty, but his height was now 
 dwindled to insignificance, by his stooping shoulders and contracted 
 spine. His distorted limbs were concealed from view by the ample 
 folds of his drapery ; but his joints had been wrenched from their 
 sockets, and but ill restored, during his confinement in the Bastille, 
 where he had been incarcerated and tortured for supposed practices 
 of sorcery, during the reign of Charles IX. 
 
 Cosmo Ruggicri, the forbidding personage described, — by birth 
 a Florentine, by vocation a mathematician, alchemist, nay, even 
 bard, as may be gathered from the Ana<jramatufjroj)lde of Nicolas 
 Clement Treleau, Secretary to the Due d'Anjou, where he is eu- 
 logised as " Florentinum, mathematicum, et poetam lectissimum ;" 
 — officiated as chief astrologer to Catherine de IMcdicis, by whom 
 he was brought to Paris. It was to the influence ot the Queen 
 Mother that he owed his deliverance from the rack and tlie 
 dungeon; his escape with life; his subsequent advancement to court 
 favour under her third son Henri, for whose accession to the throne, 
 it was said, indeed, he had paved the way by tht- removal of his 
 "brothers, Francis II. and Charles IX., and by whom, latitudinarian 
 and heretical, it' not wholly heathenish and abominable as his tenets 
 were known to be, he was advanced to the ecclesiastical dignity 
 of Abbe of Saint iSIahe, in Brittany. It Avas to the protection of 
 Catherine's powerful arm that, although surrounded by open and 
 secret foes, he was enabled to pursue his mysterious career unmo- 
 lested ; and it was to her he wac' indebted lor the wonderful state 
 information he possessed. 
 
 In return for these obligations, the stars were nightly consulted 
 for her by him, and on all emergencies Catherine had recourse 
 to his counsel. Ruggieri was blindly devoted to her will, and 
 mainly instrumental in' the execution of her hidden projects and 
 machinations. 
 
 RuCTo-ieri, however, did not stand alone. To such an extent did 
 the practice of judicial astrology prevail at the time, that the 
 number of professors in the science was estimated at thirty thou- 
 
COSMO RUGGIEEI. 41 
 
 eand; a calculation almost incredible, if the number of dupes ne- 
 cessarily required for their support be taken into consideration. 
 
 Be this as it may, Ruggieri flourishcfl. But then it was whis- 
 pered, that he had another and more terrible source of lucre. The 
 slow and subtle poisons of Florentine origin, Avhose treacherous 
 effect was manifested in the gradual decay of the victim, were said 
 to be brewed by liim. The blood that nightly bathed the couch of 
 Charles IX. was supposed to be the consequence of one of these dia- 
 bolical potions; and such was the dread entertained of his villanous 
 drugs, that a cup of wine would have fallen from the grasp of the 
 boldest bacchanal, if it had been thought to be medicated by Cosmo 
 Ruggieri. 
 
 By the side of the astrologer was a dumb African slave of the 
 most diminutive size and fantastic couliguration, wlio had the re- 
 putation of being his familiar; and strange as was tlie appearance of 
 the sorcerer, tliat of his page was many degrees more grotesque. 
 Hideously deformed and hunchbacked, Elberich was so sliort in 
 comparison with his width and girth, that, when moving, liis squat 
 rotundity of figure looked like a rolling ball of soot, in which, in 
 place of eyes, two flaming cnrbuncles had been set; and when mo- 
 tionless, he appeared like a black, bloated baboon. 
 
 Aided by his dwarf, from whose contact all recoiled with dis- 
 gust, Ruggieri had but little difficulty in making good his retreat; 
 and having gained the shelter of a flying buttress of the college 
 wall, in the angle of which he was secure from interruption, he 
 turned his attention to the restoration of his charge. 
 
 As he removed the black and clustering ringlets, fallen in disorder 
 over the features of the Geloso, Ruggieri could not help being 
 struck by their exceeding loveliness. The cheek had indeed lost 
 the warm suffusion that, like a glow of sunshine on a snowy peak, 
 had lit up its bright southern complexion; but the face was not 
 less beautiful; and Ruggieri perused its lineaments with the rap- 
 ture of a virtuoso. He peered into every line with increasing 
 wonder. It was not so much the harmony and regularity of the 
 youth's features that struck him with astonishment, as the sotlness 
 of the skin, and the polished whiteness of the throat, on which the 
 azure veins wei-e traced like wandering threads. These were what 
 chiefly excited his admiration. He grew so much absorbed in 
 contemplation, of the countenance, that he wholly neglected to 
 apply the phial of pungent spirit, which he held extended in his grasp. 
 
 Throwing? back the hair as far as it would admit, Rug<i[ieri ex- 
 amincd more narrowly the snowy forehead of tlie Geloso. Thence 
 his glance wandered to the face with renewed surprise. The eyes 
 were closed; but the dark orbs could almost be seen through the 
 thin lids. Then, those long silken Lishes — tliat dark and pencilled 
 brow — those nostrils, fine and thin — those lips so delicately carved! 
 The astrologer was lost in amazement. Taking the small white 
 hand that hung listlessly at the youth's side, he opened it, and 
 
42 CR7CHT0N. 
 
 intently perused its lines. A shade came over his countenance as 
 he pursued his stuily. 
 
 " Spirit of Sambcthe !" he exclaimed, "can this be? Can I have 
 been so loni? in error? Can the heavenly influences have so long 
 deceived their votary ? — Impossible ! True^ the pLmets have 
 of late assumed malevolent aspects — -menacing me with iU. Sa- 
 turn hath rule within the Chamber of Dentli. The Lord of the 
 Third House was combust and rctrogadc with.in the Eleventh, pre- 
 saging peril from the hand of a stranger. Tliis day, this hour, is 
 pregnant with calamity. I foresaw my danger, but I foresaw like- 
 wise the means whereby it might be averted. AVithin my path 
 stands Crichton. He is the foe by Avhom 1 am threatened. This 
 day links his fate with mine, and with that of another. That 
 other is my safeguard — that other is within my arms. One of us 
 must perish. A thick curtain hangs between me and the event. 
 Curses on my own imperfect skill, which will only enable me to see 
 so far, and no farther. But I may ward off the stroke.*^ 
 
 And he again returned to the scrutiny of the Gcloso's counte- 
 nance. " Wlierefore is it," he continued, musingly, " that as I gaze 
 upon these beautiful features, a thousand forgotten fancies should 
 be awakened within my bosom? This face, though lovelier far, 
 recals to me the image of one long since buried in oblivion — it re- 
 cals dreams of youth, of passion, fever, delirium; of a deed of 
 wliich I will not even think. Who is this youth ? or rather, unless 
 mine eyes are wholly sightless, or dim to aught save the midniglit 
 glories of the heavens, who is this " 
 
 The reverie of th.e astrologer ^vas here interrupted by a slight 
 convulsive attempt at respiration on the part of the Geloso. Rug- 
 gieri applied the phial, and, with a trembling hand, proceeded to 
 unclasp the youth's doublet to give him greater freedom in breatli- 
 ing. In reniovin<2: the folds of the blood-stained linen, the 
 heaving bosom of a young and lovely female Avas revealed. His 
 eye glistened through its illm. " It is as I suspected," he muttered 
 — " a girl in masquerade attire. jNIost probably the fool hath 
 lost her heart to Crichton — if so, slie will be a useful agent. 
 I have need of such an one in my designs upon him Ha I what 
 have we here? — an amulet — no, by Hermes, a small key uf gold, 
 of antique fashioning, attached to a chain of the same metal, which, 
 from its exquisite workmanship, I judge to be Venetian. Ah, lair 
 maiden, I have here, no doubt, a clue to your histury, of which I 
 may avail myself herealter ! By your leave, this key is mine." 
 
 And little scrupulous as to the means of accomplishing any 
 object, liuggieri, without hesitation, unfastened the chain, and 
 was about to commit it to the custody of his pouch, when he 
 was alarmed by a nionitory signal from his sable attendant. 
 
 The sound uttered by the dwarf resend^led the hissing of a 
 startled snake. Indeed, the vocal powers of the Avretched cieature 
 only ranged between gibbering and sibillation. By the former he, 
 
THE MASK. 43 
 
 oxpresscd his rejoicinp:, by tlie latter his tears. The astrolop:er well 
 knew how to interpret the present boding noise. Following the 
 direction of the dwari's red and glowing orbs, he caught sio-h ol 
 a figure, upon which the angry niannikin was glowering, puifino-^ 
 and spitting like an owl disturbed by some prowling specimen oi 
 the furry tribe. The figure was masked, and muillcd within the 
 folds of a large sable cloak; and ere Ruggieri could thrust the 
 chain of gold into his girdle, the intruder was by his side. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MASK. 
 
 Don Garcia. — Qu'est-ce alors 
 Que ce masque? — Tenez, le voila. — Victor Hugo. TJemani. 
 
 "Be not alarmed, father," said the mask, addressing Ruggieri,, 
 I am a fi"'end." 
 
 "What assurance have 1 of that?" returned the astrologer, 
 doubtfully. " Your speech is fair, but your guise and de- 
 portment are not calculated to inspire confidence. We are not now 
 in Venice, Signer INIaschera ; neither is this the season of Carni- 
 val. The good citizehs of Paris deem the mask but an indifferent 
 excuse for intrusion ; and I have been long enough amongst them 
 to acquire some of their foolish notions on this head. Your par- 
 don, signor, if I misconceive you. ]\Iuch treachery has made me 
 distrustful." 
 
 " You are in the right to be cautions, father," replied the mask; 
 " distrust becomes your years and character ; yet, mcthinks, the 
 science you profess should enable you to detect a friend from a 
 foe." 
 
 " I read not men's looks beneath a vizard, my son," replied 
 Ruggieri, " that were, indeed, to see throui^h a glass darkly. 
 Let me behold your features, and I will tell you whether or not 
 you are a friend." 
 
 •'You wrong me by your doubts, father," replied the mask — 
 " that I am well known to you, you shall ha^'e ample assurance 
 presently ; and that I have some claim to the service I am about tO' 
 require at your hands, you will then, I doubt not, admit. jMean- 
 time, as secrecy is my object, and as the disclosure of" my features, 
 or even of my name, would only be attended with risk, you 
 will, perhaps, suffer me to preserve my incognito." 
 
 '* Assuredly, my son," replied Ruggieri, who had now regainedj 
 his confidence, " I have no desire to penetrate your mj'stery. 
 Were it an object with me, I could readily gain information. 
 What do you require of me?" 
 
 " Before we proceed," returned the mask, " I prayyou, father, to 
 accept this purse as an earnest of my sincerity. It will give you a 
 clearer insight into my character than even the display of my fea- 
 tures." And as he spoke, he thrust a well-lined purse into the 
 hands of the astrologer, who received it, nothing loth. 
 
44 CRICHTON. 
 
 " You have said well, my son," he returned ; " this is a 
 medium through which I clearly distinfruish the false from the 
 true friend. How can I assist you? Whatsoever comes witliin 
 the scope of my art is yours to command." 
 
 '* In a word, then," returned the mask, " I love — *' 
 
 " Ah ! I understand," repHcd Rug^deri, signidcantly, " you love 
 without requital." 
 
 " Precisely so, father." 
 
 " And would subdue the heart of her for whom you sigh. Is it 
 not so?" 
 
 The mask nodded assent. 
 
 *' Doubt not its accomplishment. Be she chilly as Caucasean snow, 
 I will engage to create a ilame within her bosom that shall burn 
 with an ardour fiercer than that created by the cfstus of Venus." 
 
 " Swear to me. you will do this." 
 
 *' By Orimasis! she shall be youi'S." 
 
 " Enough — I am content." 
 
 *' Tell the damscPs name and dwelling — ?* 
 
 " Neither are needed — she is here." And the mask pointed to 
 the Venetian girl. 
 
 " Jabamiah !" exclaimed the surprised astrologer. 
 
 " Nay, I know all," pursued the mask. '' Plead not ignonnuc 
 I witnessed the discovery you made." 
 
 *' And — and you love lier— '' 
 
 *' Love her !" echoed the mask — " Hear me, father," lie continued, 
 Avith impetuosity. "You, who are of our fiery land, need not be 
 told with what fierceness we Italians love. Witli all the ardoui- ol 
 overwhelming passion I pursued this damsel. She was deaf to my 
 entreaties. In vain I used every blandishment, every artifice — in 
 vain lavished gifts upon her that might have Avon a princess. All 
 my efforts were ineffectual. For me she had no smile. Nay, more, 
 the fury of my suit affrighted her. Indifference grew to fear, and 
 fear to hate. Hate in some bosoms is akin to love, but not in 
 hers. She fled my sight. Stung by resentment, I Ibrmcd plans, that 
 had they not been foiled in execution, must have placed her with- 
 in my power. By some means she became acquainted with my 
 projects, and sought safety in flight. Her disappearance added to 
 my torture — I was frantic. While plunged in this despair, I re- 
 ceived intelligence that she had flown to Paris. Thither I repaired 
 — traced her — saw through her disgiuse — hovered round her dwell- 
 ing — haunted her hke her shadow, in the hope that chance Avould, in 
 the end, befriend me. It has befriended me when least expected. 
 The moment has arrived — she has fallen into your power — up 
 further obstacle exists — s-he is mii/e." 
 
 And the mask would have seized upon tlie inanimate girl, if 
 he had not been withheld by the astrologer. 
 
 " One obstacle yet exists, my son," salt' Buggieri coldly; "yor 
 have a rival." 
 
THE MASK. 45 
 
 " A rival !" echoed the mask. " Name him !" 
 
 " For whom did she "wreathe that garland ? For whom en- 
 danger her life?" 
 
 «Ha!" 
 
 " For Crichton !" ^ 
 
 " Perdition seize liim ! But he loves her not — knows lier not — - 
 —they must meet no more." 
 
 "Take back your purse, signor," said Ruggieri; " I cannot aid 
 you in this matter." 
 
 "How?" exclaimed the mask — " Have I not your oath?" 
 
 *' True; but I knew not wliat I swore." 
 
 " 'Tis binding, nevertheless. Thut is, if aught can be binding 
 on a conscience supple as your own. What interest can you liave 
 in this maiden ? Are your services already purchased by this 
 accursed Crichton, or do you hope to make a better market with 
 him ? ' 
 
 " Put no further affront upon me, signor," returned Ruggieri. 
 *' I am not easily appeased, as 3'ou will learn, if you provoke my 
 anger. I am no friend to Crichton, nor is this maiden aught to 
 me. Beyond the accidental discovery of her sex, and what you 
 yourself have told me, I am wholly ignorant in all relating to her; 
 but fate has thrown her upon my protection, and to violence like 
 yours I will never betray her. Take back your purse, signor, and 
 trouble me no longer." 
 
 " Away !'' exclaimed the mask. "Think not to impose upon 
 me by these idle pretences. Why should I stoop to solicit when I 
 can command ? A word from me — and thou art plunged Avithin a 
 dungeon, — whence not even Catherine's mighty arm can accom- 
 plish thy deliverance. Of all men living, Ruggieri, thou hast 
 most cause of dread of me ; but of all agents of iniquity, 1 have 
 most need of thee, therefore thou art safe; but tremble if thou 
 disobeyest me. ^ly vengeance is swifter and more certain than 
 thine own." 
 
 " Who, in the devil's name, are you that talk thus ?" inquired 
 the astrologer. 
 
 " Were 1 the devil himself, I could not occasion you more dis- 
 quietude than I should were I to reveal myself," replied the mask. 
 " Be satisfied, and seek to know nothing further of me." 
 
 The haughty imperiousness of tone suddenly assumed by the 
 mask was not without its eflect upon the astrologer ; but he strug- 
 gled to maintain a composed demeanour. 
 
 " What if I still refuse comphance ?" he demanded. 
 
 The mask whispered in his ear. The astrologer started, and 
 trembled from head to foot. 
 
 " I am content," he said, after a pause. " Command me as you 
 see fitting. My life is at your disposal." 
 
 " I do not require so much,"" returned the mask, scornfully. 
 " Deliver up the girl. Yet stay, I am not unattended here. Hast 
 thou no place of refuge, to which thou couldst convey her ?" 
 
40 ORICHTON. 
 
 " I have," replied Ruggieri, after an instant's reflection; '*if it 
 •be your pleasure, I will convey her to the mystic tower, near the 
 Hotel de Soissons, whither alone her majesty, Catherine de Medicls, 
 and I have access. There she can remain concealed, till I am 
 ■acquainted with your further wishes. But can it be that she hath 
 refused your suit ? There must be witchcraft in the case. You 
 may be spell-bound, noble signor. The Emperor Charlemagne was 
 ■similarly enslaved to a foul hag — and now I mind me of a 
 strangely -fashioned key, which I discovered upon her bosom. 
 Perchance the charm resides in that. It may be a talisman of 
 potent virtue. I will put it to the proof. In any case we must 
 have a counter-enchantment." 
 
 " As thou wilt," interrupted the mask, " be that thy business. 
 Ha ! she stir; — quick, Ave lose time.'' 
 
 For some moments before it was remarked by the astrologer and 
 Lis companion, the return of animation had been perceptible in 
 the Venetian girl. Heaving a deej) sigh, she opened her large 
 and languid eyes, and fixed them upon Ruggieri and Elberich ; 
 the former of whom was bending OA'er her, at the instant of her 
 restoration to consciousness, while the latter sustained her within 
 his grasp. In this crouching posture, with his unbared, yellow 
 ^rms, twined around her person, the hideous dwarf resembled a 
 messenger from Eblis, sent to bear her to perdition. The objects 
 "beiuie her looked like visions in a dream. In vain did Ruggieri 
 raise his finger to his lips ; slio neither comprehended her own 
 ■situation, nor perceived necessity for silence. Just then her wan- 
 dering gaze chanced upon the mask, and with a wild laugh she 
 pointed to the dusky figure, and muttered some incoherent 
 ■ejaculations. 
 
 " Away," exclaimed the mask, " about it quickly. ^Vhy listen 
 to her ravings ? Remove her to the turret." 
 
 "That voice!" shrieked the maiden, starting to her feet, and 
 spreading her hand before her eyes, " it is— ^t must be he ! — where 
 ami? Ha!" 
 
 " Seize her," vociferated the mask. 
 
 " He haunts me even while life is ebbing," screamed the dis- 
 tracted girl ; " I am dying, yet cannot escape liim. Save me from 
 him, Crichton — save me."" And, with a wild scream, slie broke 
 from the grasp of Ruggieri. 
 
 The mask ineilectually endeavoured to stay her flight. 
 
 " INIlscreants !" he cried, " you have let her go." 
 
 "The bird hath only iluttered forth," returned the astrologer ; 
 ■*' we can easily retake it." 
 
 It was at this juncture that the cry reached the ears of Crichton. 
 Like a frail bark amidst troubled waters, the enfeebled maid strove 
 .against the tumultuous mob, who little heeded either her plaints 
 'Or frantic ejaculations. 
 
 " Poor youth !" cried one of the scholars, " his hurt hath turned 
 ihis brain. Get hence, foolish boy ! Criehton hath his hands too 
 
THE MASK. 47 
 
 t'ull to give attention to thy shouts. He hath more need of help 
 than thou. Dost see yon tall green plume ? — It is Crichton's. 
 Be advised, and venture not where blows shower thick as hail, 
 and Avhere thou niavst come in lor thy share of them. Seek 
 shelter in the rear." 
 
 But the girl heeded him not, but still continued to cry, 
 
 " Save me, Crichton, save me !" 
 
 A thick battalion of scholars opposed themselves to Crichton's 
 progress. " Stand aside !" he vocilerated, nothing daunted by their 
 nmnbcrs. And, whirling the iron bar over his head, he dashed in 
 the direction of the girl. 
 
 She beheld hiiu approach. She saw the scholars gave way 
 before his resistless cHbrts. She heard his shout of encourage- 
 ment ; and at the very instant when her bosom throbbed highest 
 with liope, and when she almost deemed herself secure beneath his 
 protecting arm, she felt her waist encircled by a sudden clasp. 
 
 She looked ujx l". cr eyes encountered two dark orbs flashing 
 from a sable mask. Her brain reeled. She saw no more. 
 
 Crichton, meanwhile, pressed fiercely forward. Fresh difficulties 
 were thrown in his path — fresh ranks obstinately opposed them- 
 selves to his progress ; but all were at length overcome, and lie 
 reached tlic spot Avhere he beheld the Geloso. It was void. A 
 roar oi" mockery from the students testified their satisfaction at 
 his disappointment. " You have arrived too late to succour your 
 fri(!nd," shouted a voice from out the crowd; — "he is bevoml 
 your reach, and in the care of one who will not readily surrender 
 him. Higados do Dios ! you are foiled, most puissant cabullovd, 
 nor shall it be my iault if you do not ever find a stumbHng-bloek 
 witliin your patli." 
 
 Turning towards the cpiarter whence the voice proceeded, 
 Crichton beheld the retreating figure of Caravaja. " By Saint 
 Andrew," he murmured, glancing fiercely round, " I would give 
 all the laurels I have this day won to effect that poor youth's 
 deliverance. Curses upon these brawling scholars ! It v.-ere a 
 labour of Hercules to pursue the quest amidst a scene of such 
 confusion ; and yet I would fain continue it if I saw a chance of 
 success. ^^ hy did Ruggieri, wlio so eagerly accepted the charge 
 of this woiuided boy, suflcr him to incur such peril? The old 
 astrologer shall render me an explanation of his conduct." 
 
 Criciiton's further self-comm.unlon was cut short by the shouts of 
 the archers and the trampling of their steeds. After a brief, but 
 inefiectual, resistance, as before stated, the scholars threw down 
 their arms, and, shouting for quarter, fled. Crichton was left alone. 
 No sooner did Joyeuse, who was careering among the crowd, 
 perceive him, than he reined his charger by his side. 
 
 " Now Heaven and our Lady be praised," exclaimed the vicomte 
 ffaily, "you are unhurt. Seigneur Crichton. By my blazon, it 
 had, indeed, been a blot upon tlie fair page of chivalry, if its 
 l^rightest mirror had perished amid a rascal rout like this. Tete- 
 
48 CRICHTON. 
 
 Dieu ! if the Lord Rector reprove not his froward children, our 
 sergeants shall take the task from his hands, and give him a lesson. 
 But sec, your page is at hand ; your charger paws the ground. 
 Ah, Crichton ! brave steed — fair page — both pledges of a royal 
 lady's favour; — you are twice fortunate!" 
 
 " Thrice fortunate, Joyeuse, in a brother-ln-arms who flies to 
 my rescue in extremities like the present," returned Crichton, in 
 the same lively tone as his companion, vaulting at the same time 
 into the saddle ot" a superb charger in rich housings, which was led 
 towards him by a page, mounted upon a milk-white palfrey, and 
 bedecked in doublet of white satin and velvet niantle of deepest 
 azure, the colours of Marguerite de Valois. " Methinks," he 
 added, smiling, '• this hard-fought field is at length our own; 
 and yet, after enacting more wonders than ever were achieved 
 by the doughtiest champions of Romance — Tristan or Launfal, 
 Huon or Parthcnopex, when struggling against the powers oi 
 sorcclrie and darkness — it moves me to tears to think in what 
 light esteem my exploits will be held by preux chevaliers like 
 yourself, who think there is no honour to be won in such 
 perilous conflicts. Trust me a legion of swarthy gnomes, with 
 the fay Urganda at their liead, were more easily vanquished 
 than these disloyal varlets. I have now encountered this University 
 alike in hall and field ; disputed it with them by rule of rhetoric, 
 and by rule of fence; and will freely admit that I prefer the 
 weapons of the principals to those of their disciples, and plume 
 myself rather upon my conquest, if conquest it be, over these hard- 
 headed, cudgel- wielding neophytes, whose stubborn brains were 
 more difficult to be convinced than their renowned and learned 
 seniors. But it is time to bestow a thouglit upon my luckless 
 countryman, the original cause of all this scene of discord. I think 
 I discern him and his staunch ally, amid the thickest turmoil. 
 Forward, Joyeuse, I must speak with them." 
 
 A few bounds of his steed brought Crichton beside Ogiivy 
 and Blount. The latter, perceiving that the fray was at an 
 end, called off his dog from the Bernardin, but finding that 
 his intimation was not attended to by the stubborn animal, he 
 seconded the hint with a heavy blow of his crab-stick, which 
 produced the desired effect. Druid quitted his hold, and with 
 a surly growl plumped down at his master's feet. 
 
 " We meet to-morrow, then, Ogiivy," said Crichton, "and such 
 service as I can render, you may command. Meantime, you shall 
 suffer no further molestation. Monsieur le Vicomte, hath he 
 your safe-guard?" 
 
 " He has," replied Joyeuse. *' The brave Scot shall have a 
 post amongst my company of archers, if he choose to barter 
 his gown of gray serge for a steel breast-plate. He will not be 
 the first of his countrymen who hath found the change to his 
 advantage." 
 
 " I will reflect upon your offer, my lord," rep^d Ogiivy, with 
 
THE MASK. 49 
 
 characteristic caution. '* Meantime, my best thanks are due to 
 you for the proposal." 
 
 "As you please, sir," replied Joyeuse, liaughtily; "nor are your 
 acknowledgments due to ine, but to the Seigneur Cricliton. To 
 him alone you are indebted for my offer." 
 
 " He knows not wliat he declines, Joyeuse," returned Crichton. 
 *' I will reason Avith him on the morrow. And now," he con- 
 tinued, "I would desire better acquaintance with your valiant 
 comrade, whom I judge to be an Englishman." 
 
 "I am so," returned JMount, " but I deserve not to be 
 called valiant. Had you bestowed the epithet on my dog 
 the term might not have been misapplied — on me 'tis wholly 
 thrown away. Druid hath some pretensions to valour — he will 
 never disgrace the soil from which lie sprung — nor will his master, 
 for that matter. But since you liave honoured me with your 
 notice, worthy sir, let us join hands upon our new-struck friend- 
 ship, if I be not too bold in assuming such a feeling on your part 
 to me, and you shall find, if you need them, that in Simon Blount 
 and his dog, for I must not except Druid, who is part and parcel of 
 myself, and indeed tlic best part, you will have two followers upon 
 whose faith you may rely. Audacter et Jid< liter is my device." 
 
 " And a cordial and constant one it is," re])lied Crichton, as he 
 warndy returned the pressure of the Enghshinan's huge hand. 
 *' I gladly embrace your ofier. Come to my hotel with Ogilvy 
 on the morrow, and neglect not to bring with you my new and 
 trusty follower." 
 
 " Doubt not that," returned Blount ; " Druid and I arc in- 
 separalle." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of 
 Chicot, who, contrary to his wont, had a somewhat serious coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 "Ah! my gay gossip," said Crichton, "why that portentous 
 look? hast thou lost thy bauble in the fray?" 
 
 " Far worse than that, brother drcU,'" returned Chicot, " I have 
 lost my reputation. Ihou hast fairly won my cap and bells, and 
 shall have them by pre-eminence of wisdom. But bend down thj 
 lordly neck to me, 1 liave somewhat for thy private hearing." 
 
 And approaching Crichton, the jester breathed his information 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " W hat !" exclaimed Crichton, who appeared struck with surprise 
 at Cliicot's intelligence, *' art sure this Geloso is ?" 
 
 " I lush!" muttered the jester, "who is now the fool? Would 
 you betray the secret':" 
 
 " And it was the mask who seized her?" asked Crichton, in a 
 whisper. " Whose tcatures doth that vizard hide?" 
 
 "I know not,'' replied Chicot, "it may be the Balafre, or the 
 Bearnais, for aught I can tell. But this Twill venture to assert, 
 that it is neither my gossip, Henriot, nor thou, nor I, nor even the 
 
 B 
 
50 CHICHTON. 
 
 Seigneur Joycuse; I will not say as much for the Due d'Anjoii, 
 whom perchance it may be." 
 
 " But Rugaieri, thou sayst — " 
 
 " Was with him. I beheld him and liis dwarl'Elbeiich. Both 
 lent assistance to tlie mask." 
 
 " He is gone, thou sayest?" 
 
 " I will seek the astrologer in his tower, and compel him to 
 some explanation of this mystery," said Crichton. 
 
 "That tower is the kennel ot' the she-wolf Cm therine — take heed 
 what you do. Many a hand has been thrust into a cage, the 
 bearer whereof would have gladly withdrawn it unscathed. But 
 as you will, fools are leaders, wise men receders." 
 
 "Adieu, Ogilvy !" said C'richton; "remember our appoint- 
 ment of the moirow. Joyeuse, our rendezvous is at the fete to- 
 iiiglit. — All rcvoirl" 
 
 So saying, Crichton plunged spurs into liis horse's sides, and, 
 followed by his page, rode swiftly down the Montagne Sainte- 
 Genevieve. Chit;ot shruci:2;ed his shoulders. 
 
 " Knight-errantry is not wholly extinct, I perceive," he muttered. 
 My gossip, Crichton, is born at least half a century too late. He 
 should ha^■c flouiished in the good old times of Triboulet, and the 
 first Francis. He is caught at once by the silken meshes of this 
 dark-haired syren. What will Queen ^largot say if this new 
 adventure reach her jealous ears ? But I must to the Louvre. 
 This scholastic brawl will divert Henri's spleen. And as I descend 
 this Parnassian steep of Sain tc- Genevieve, to beguile the time I'B 
 invoke the muses in honour of— • 
 
 THE ADMIEABLE SCOT. 
 
 A song 111 write on 
 
 Matchless Cricliton; 
 
 In wit a bright one, 
 
 Form, a slight one, 
 
 Love, a light one! 
 
 Who talketli Greek with ilfr 
 
 Like great Busbequius; 
 
 Knowetli the Cabala 
 
 Well as Mirandola; 
 
 Fate van reveal to us. 
 
 Like wise Cornelius ; 
 
 Keasoneth like Socrates, 
 
 Or old Xenoc'ates; 
 
 Whos'.' sj^steni ethical, 
 
 Sound, dialectical, 
 
 Aristotelian, ' 
 
 Pantagruelian, 
 
 Like to chameleon, 
 
 riioppcth and cbangeth^ 
 
 Everywhere rangeth ! 
 
 Who rides like Centaur, 
 
 Preaches like INfentor, 
 
 Drinks like Lyieus, 
 
 Sings like Tyrtjeus, 
 
 Keads like Budaeus. 
 
HIE COURT OF IIEXllI III. 51 
 
 Vau'teth like Tuccaro, 
 Faintetli like Zucchero, 
 Difeth like ISpaniard, 
 Danceth like galliard, 
 Tilts like Orlando, 
 Does all man can do 1 
 Qui piipa^ nobiles 
 innuinc rub ill's, 
 Anuit amabilcs 
 Atque Riginam 
 I^dvarrct dicinam ! 
 "Whose rare prosjicrity, 
 Grace and dexterity, 
 Courage, temerity, 
 Shall, .or a verity 
 Puzzle posterity ! 
 
 "Ouffh, ougli," gasped the jester, "I am lairly out of breath 
 -as old iNIarot sings, ' en rimant bien souvent je m'enrime.' " 
 
 BOOK THE SECOND.— CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE COURT OF HEXKI TROIS. 
 
 Les peuples pipes de lenr mine, 
 Lcs voyaiit ain>i s enfermer, 
 Jiigeoient qn'ils parioicnt dc s'aime 
 Poiircoiiqiurir la Palestine. 
 F.t toiitt'lois lewr cntrcprise 
 Etoit le parfum d'un collet ; 
 Le point coup^ d'une chemise 
 Et la figure d'lin ballet. 
 De lenr moliesse Ictliargiqne, 
 Le discord sottant des enf'ers, 
 Des nianx que nous avons soufferts 
 Nous onrdit la toile tragiqne. 
 
 Malherbe. 
 
 On the same night that the event previously narrated occuri'ed, 
 hiffh festival was lield within the Louvre, by its effeminate and 
 voluptuous sovereign, who assembled upon the occasion the 
 whole of his brilliant court, then without a rival in Europe, either 
 for the number and loveliness of the dames who frequented 
 it, or for the bravery and gallantry of the youthful chivalry, by 
 which it was graced. To Henri Trois the lighter amusements 
 of the revel, the ballet, and the masque, were as captivating as the 
 more manly sports of the chase were to his brother and prede- 
 cessor, Charles Neuf, of execrable memory. His fetes were 
 sumptuous and frequent — so frequent, indeed, tliat the chief part of 
 his time Avas occupied in the arrangement of these magnificent 
 .•spectacles. The sums lavished upon the marriage-feasts of his fa- 
 vourites, were enormous : the royal coffers were often drained by 
 his inordinate extravagance ; and, while the state groaned beneath 
 the weight of the burthens constantly imposed upon it, the un- 
 bridled licence that reigned at his orgies occasioned scandal and dis- 
 
 E 2 
 
1/2. CRICIITOX. 
 
 content tlirougliout the reputable portion of the community, of 
 which his enemies were not slow to take advantage. 
 
 Two years betbre the period of which we treat, Henri gave en 
 entertainment to his brother, tlie Due D'Alencjon, at which the 
 ladies assisted, " vestues de verd, en habits d'liomme, a moitie nues, 
 et ayant leurs cheveux epars comme epousees."* The cost of this 
 banquet exceeded a hundred tliousand I'rancs ! In December, 1576, 
 as we learn from the Journal ol' his reign, he went e7i masque to the 
 Hotel de Guise, accompanied by thirty princesses and ladies of the 
 court, richly attired in silks and silver tissue, braided with pearls 
 and gems of price ; and such was the confusion that prevailed, that 
 the more discreet part were obliged to retire, by reason of the 
 licence of the maskers ; ibr, as it is significantly observed, by 
 Pierre de I'Estoilc, " could the walls and tapestry have spoken, 
 they would have, doubtless, found many pleasant particulars to 
 communicate." Subsequently, in 1583, upon Shrove Tuesday, 
 attended by his favourites, masked like himself, Henri rushed into 
 the streets, where he committed such frantic and unheard-of 
 follies and insolences, that he was publicly reprimanded the next 
 day by all the preachers in Paris. 
 
 Louise de Lorraine, or.De V^audemont, his queen, a princess of 
 amiable but feeble character, entirely without ambition (on whicl.. 
 account she was selected as a suitable spouse to her son by the crafty 
 Catherine de Medicis, ever apprehensive of a rival near the throne), 
 and possessing the negative merit of passive submission, oiFered no 
 opposition to the wishes of her royal husband, though she took little 
 part in his festivities. Her gentle existence was divided between 
 her oratory, her garden, the establishment of confreries, and other 
 religious institutions, and the retirement of a secluded apartment ; 
 her daily occupations were embroidery, or the perusal of her book 
 of prayer ; her attire was of the simplest material, fashioned chiefly 
 of woollen cloth ; and, though her complexion had become deathly 
 pale, she refused the aid of rouge. Her immediate attendants 
 and ladies of honour, were recommended to her regard, rather by 
 their piety and decorum of conduct, than ibr any other dazzling 
 qualifications. Of this queen, many pleasing traits are narrated — 
 one, in particular, of a reproof* conveyed to the Haunting and over- 
 dressed lady of a president, to whom, in tlie unpretending garb she 
 had adopted, she was wholly unknown. But taken altogether, her 
 nature was too easy and acquiescent, and her frame of mind too 
 infirm, to promote in any way the welfiire of the kingdom, or to 
 accomplish the reformation of the monarch to whom she was united. 
 That she found rather sorrow than happiness in her exalted station, 
 can scarce be doubted ; indeed her woes have been thus embalmed 
 in versCj by the Jesuit Le Moine : — 
 
 Son esprit fut gene dans la couche royalei 
 La couronne liii fut line cliaine f'atale, 
 
 • Journal de Henri III,— Mai, 1577 
 
THE COURT OF HENRI III. 53 
 
 Le Louvre une prison, le trone uri ecliafaiid 
 Erige pour montrerson tourmcnt de plus haut. 
 
 But, perhaps, the severest of her aiSictions consisted in her being 
 denied the blessing of children. 
 
 The position wliich Louise de Vaudemont should have occupied, 
 was assumed by the queen-mother, who amply supplied whatever 
 might be wanting in her daughter-in-law. In her hands, her sons 
 were mere puppets ; they filled the throne, while she wielded the 
 sceptre. Hers was truly, what it has been described, " a soul of 
 bronze, or of iron." Subtle, secret, ^Nlachiavelian — the " Prince" 
 of the plotting Florentine was her constant study — her policy 
 worked in the dark : none could detect her movements till they 
 were disclosed by the results. Inheriting many of the nobler 
 qualities of the Medicis, her hatred was implacable as that of the 
 Borgias ; and, like that dread race, her schemes were not sulTered 
 to be restrained by any ties of aflinity. Kumour attributed to her 
 agency the mysterious removal of her two elder sons* from the 
 path of the third, who was unquestionably her favourite ; and she 
 was afterwards accused of being accessory to the sudden death of 
 another, the Due d'Alen^on, who perislied at Chateau-Thierry, 
 from smelling at a bouquet of poisoned flowers. 
 
 The court of Henri Trois numbered tiirce hundred of the love- 
 liest and most illustrious damsels of the hind, a list of whom will 
 be found in the pages of Brantome, who falls into raptures in 
 describing the charms of this galaxy of beauties, proclaiming them 
 to be little short of goddesses, and declaring that the palace which 
 they enlightened was "un vray paradis du monde, escole de 
 toute honnestete et vertu et ornement de la France." Now, how- 
 ever, we may differ from the vivacious chronicler of the " Dames 
 Galantcs" in our estimate of the hoiiuestett et vertu of the ladiea 
 in question, remembering, as we do, the adventure of the Demoi- 
 selle de Limeuil with the Prince de Conde, and the libellous 
 verses which it occasioned, we are quite satisfied, that his en- 
 thusiastic admiration of these dames was fully warranted by their 
 personal attractions. In later times the sparkling court of our own 
 Charles II. did not boast so inuch beauty as that of Henri III. 
 
 Surrounded by this fiiir phalanx, Catherine felt herself irre- 
 sistible. As in the case of the unfortunate Demoiselle de Limeuil, 
 she only punished their indiscretions when concealment was im- 
 possible. An accurate judge of human nature, she knew that the 
 most inflexible bosom was no proof against female blandishment, 
 and, armed with this " petite bande des dames de la cour," as they 
 were called, she made use of their agency to counteract the plans 
 of her enemies, and by their unsuspected influence, which extended 
 over the whole court, became acquainted with the most guarded 
 secrets of all parties. The profound dissimulation that enveloped 
 
 * See what Tliuanus says, upon the post mortem examination of Charles IX. 
 lib. Ivii , — ex causa wcognilu re;>erti livores. The end of Charles vras, indeed, 
 awful ; but its horror would be increased, if we could be assured that hi* 
 excruciating pangs were occasioned by his mother. 
 
5 4 CRICIITON. 
 
 her conduct, has left the character of Catherine a problem which the 
 historian would in vain attempt to solve ; and equally futile would 
 in his endeavours to trace to their hidden sources the springs of 
 all her actions. Blindly superstitious, bigoted, yet sceptical, and, 
 if her enemies are at all to be believed, addicted to the idolatrous 
 worship of false gods ; proud, yet never guilty of meanness ; a fond 
 wife — an Italian woman, yet exhibiting no jealousy of an incon- 
 stant husband ; a tender mother, yet accused of sacrificing three of 
 her sons to her ambitious views ; a rigid observer of etiquette, yet 
 not nnfrequently overlooking its neglect ; fiery and vindictive, yet 
 never roused to betray her emotions by any gesture of impatience, 
 but veiling her indignation under a mask of calmness, her sup- 
 posititious character and actions were a perpetual contradiction to 
 each other. 
 
 Catherine's was a genius of a high order. No portion of her time 
 was left unoccupied. She was a lover of letters and of men of letters, 
 a cultivator of the arts, and the most perfect horsewoman of her 
 time. To her the ladies are indebted for the introduction of the 
 pommel in the saddle (female equitation being, up to that 
 period, conducted a la plaiichette), a mode which, according to 
 Brantome, she introduced for the better display of her unequalled 
 symmetry of person. 
 
 If Catherine was a paradox, not less so was her son, Henri TIL, 
 whose youth held forth a brilliant promise not destined to be 
 realised in his riper years. The victor of Jarnac and Montcontour 
 — tlie envy of the warlike youth of his time — the idol of those 
 whose swords had been fleshed in many battles — the chosen monarch 
 of Poland — a well-judging statesman — a fluent and felicitous orator, 
 endowed with courage, natural grace, a fine person, universally 
 accomplished in all the exercises of the tilting-yard, the manege, 
 and the hall-of-arms — this chivalrous and courageous prince as soon 
 as he ascended the throne of France, sank into a voluptuous lethargy, 
 from which, except upon extraordinary occasions, he was never 
 afterwards aroused : his powers of mind — his resolution — his cou- 
 rage, moral and physical, fading beneath the enervating life of sen- 
 suality in which he indulged. 
 
 Governed by his mother and his favourites, who were Cathe- 
 rine's chief opponents, and of whose over-weening influence she 
 stood most in fear ; threatened by the Due de Guise, who scarcely 
 deigned to conceal his bold designs upon the throne ; distrusted 
 by the members of the League, of which he had named himself chief, 
 and who were, for the most part, instruments of the Guise ; dreaded 
 Huguenots, to whom he had always shown himself a relent- 
 less persecutor, and who remembered with horror his cruelties at 
 the massacre of Saint-Barthelemi, of which dismal tragedy he 
 has avowed himself a principal instrument ; opposed by the Pope, 
 and by Philip II. of Spain (his brother-in-law), both of whom were 
 favourable to the claims of Guise ; with Henri of Navarre in the 
 ield, and his brother the Due d'Alcngon disaffected ; fulminated 
 
THE COUKT OF HENRI III. 55 
 
 against by the Sorboniie ; assailed by one of its doctors, in a 
 pamphlet endeavouring to prove the necessity of his deposition ; 
 Henri, with his crown tottering upon his head, still maintained an 
 exterior of the same easy indiderence, abandoned none of his plea- 
 sures, or his devotions (lor devotion with him took the semblance 
 ot amusement — and the oratory and the ball-room were but a step 
 asunder — the mass and the masquerade each tiie division of an hour) 
 — turned a deaf ear to the remonstrances of his counsellors, and 
 could only be awakened, like the Assyrian monarch, from his lux- 
 urious trance, when the armed hand was put forth to grasp his 
 sceptre. Then, indeed, i'or a brief space, he showed himself a king. 
 
 It is not, however, wiih this portion of his reign that we have 
 to do ; but with tliat in which this Sybaritic prince was altogether 
 sunk in indolence and dreamy enjoyment. 
 
 On the night in question, he had gathered together, within 
 his gorgeous halls, the loveliest and the proudest of his capital. 
 Catherine de INIedicis was there with her brilliant bevy of beauties. 
 Marguerite de Yalois, the fair Queen of Navarre, then in her seven- 
 and-twentieth summer, and glowing in the noontide waimth of her 
 resplendent charms, was present, attended by her train ; nor were 
 the gentle Louise de Vaudemont, and her demure and discreet 
 dames of honour absent. All that Henri's court could boast, of 
 irrace, wit, youth, beauty, or distinction, were assembled. 
 
 l*erfumes exhaled from a thousand aromatic lamps ; fragrant 
 exotics, tilled the air with sweets ; music, solt and low, breathed 
 from a band of unseen minstrels; lofty plumes waved to the cadences 
 of the melody ; small elastic leet twinkled in the varied elastic 
 movements of the figure — now attuned to the rapid whirl of the 
 bransle — now to the graceful and majestic pauses of the Spanish 
 
 favane, or to the grave, slow, and dignified deportment of the 
 talian pazzameno. 
 It was a masked fete, and all, save the monarch and a few 
 of his privileged followers, wore the vizard. The costumes were 
 endless and diversified, but chosen rather with a view to display the 
 person of the wearer to the best advantage in a guise different from 
 his wont, than with that bizaire taste which characterises a 
 carnival. Bright eyes, not less bright that they were seer 
 peeping like stars through the dusky loopholes of the pretty 
 velvet mask called the louret de ntz, which gave additional 
 piquancy and efiect, when none was needed, to the ruby lips and 
 polished chin of the wearer, rained their influence around. Of 
 all favourers to flirtation, commend us to the mask. Beneath its 
 shadow a thousand random darts may be shot that would fall point- 
 less, or never be aimed at all were it not for the friendly covering. 
 Blessings, therefore, upon him that invented the mask, who 
 has thereby furnished the bashful and timid lover with a shield 
 to fight under. 
 
 The splendid company dispersed throughoutthe long suite of gilded 
 saloons — hstening to the ravishing notes of a concert of harmonious 
 
56 CRICIITON. 
 
 voices — gathering round tlie tables where vast sums were lost at tric- 
 trac, primero, and other forgotten games of hazard — pausing beneath 
 a scented arcade of flowers — loitering within the deep embrasure of 
 a tapestried window, or partaking of the sumptuous banquet set forth 
 within the great hall of carousal. Ihe laugh and the jest were 
 loud and high ; the love speech and its response faint and low. 
 
 Amidst the glittering throng might be discerned a group who 
 had laid aside their masks, and who held themselves sliglitly aloof 
 from the proceedings of the assemblage. More mirth, however, 
 might be observed amongst his paity than otherwise. Their 
 laughter was heard above the conversation ; and few^ were there, 
 whether dames or seigneurs, who passed in review before them, if 
 their gait or featurescould be detected, but were exposed to a galling 
 fire of raillery and sarcL:stic remark. 
 
 One amongst their number was treated with marked deference 
 and respect by the others; and it would appear that it was for his 
 amusement that all these witticisms were uttered, as, whenever a 
 successful hit Avas made, he bestowed upon it his applause. A 
 man of middle height, slender figure, with a slight stoop in the 
 shoulders, he had a countenance charged with an undefinablc 
 but sinister expression, something between a sneer and a smile. 
 His features were not handsome ; the nose being heavy and clubbed, 
 and the lips coarse and thick ; but his complexion was remarkable 
 for its delicacy and freshness of tint; neither were his eyes deficient 
 in lustre, though their glances were shifting, suspicious, and equi- 
 vocal. He wore short moustaches curled upwards from the lips, 
 and a beard a la royale tufted his chin. From either ear depended 
 long pearls, adding to his efieminate appearance, while, in lieu of 
 plumes, his black toquet, placed upon the summit of his head, and 
 so adjusted as not to disturb the arrangement of his well-curled 
 hair, was adorned with a brilliant aigrette of many-coloured gems. 
 Around his neck he wore a superb nacklace of pearls, together 
 with a chain of medallions intermingled with ciphers, from which 
 was suspended the lesser order of the Saint-Esprit radiant with 
 diamonds of inestimable value. In fact, the jewels fiaming from 
 his belt, the buckles, and the various lisstenings of his mag- 
 nificent attire, were almost beyond computation. On one side 
 this girdle sustained a pouch filled with small silver flacons 
 filled Avith perfumes, together with a sword with rich hilt and 
 velvet scabbard, and on the other, a chaplet of death's heads, 
 which, ever mindful of a vow to that eflect, he constantly can-ied 
 about his person, and which indicated the strange mixture of reli- 
 gion, that, together with depravity, w^ent to the composition of the 
 Wearer's character. Adorned Avith the grand order of the Saint- 
 Esprit, and edged with silver lace, his chestnut- coloured velvet 
 mantle, cut in the extremity of the mode, Avas a full inch shorter 
 than that of his companions. His ruff Avas of ampler circum- 
 ference, and enjoyed the happiest and most becoming don de la 
 rvUx.df. i-'iluiiiu" as close to iho fiixuie as loops ai.ul I'U'.tons coul-1 
 
THE" COURT OF HENRI III. 5^ 
 
 make it, his exquisitely worked and slashed poiirpoint sat to a 
 miracle, not less studied was tlie appohitment of the balloon-like 
 hose, swelling over his reins, and which, together with the doublet, 
 were of yellow satin. 
 
 Far be it from us to attempt to portray the exuberant splendour 
 of his sleeve ; the nice investiture of the gi'aceful limb, with the 
 hose of purple silk, or the sharp point of the satin shoe. No pare 
 of his attire was left unstudied, and th.e tU-fiant of the nineteenth 
 pcntury may aspire in vain to emulate the finished decorative taste 
 ot the royal ex(|uisite of the sixteenth. 
 
 Henri III., for it was the monarcli whom we have endeavoured 
 to describe, conferred, as before stated, infinite attention upon the 
 minutiae of the toilet, and caried his consideration of dress some- 
 what to an extreme. Upon the solemnisation oi'his espousals with the 
 Queen Louise, so mucli time was occupied in the arrangement of 
 hii iself and his spouse for the ceremonial, that mass could not be 
 eel brated until five o'clock in the evening; and the Te Deum was 
 in consequence neglected to be sung, an omission wliich was re- 
 garded as a most unfortunate augury. Of his personal appearance, 
 moreover, he was excessively vain ; and so anxious was he to pre- 
 seive the delicacy and freshness of liis complexion, and the smooth- 
 n ss of his skin, that during the night he always wore a mask, ancl 
 gloves prepared with unguents and softening ])astes. Few ladies 
 of his court could compete with him in the beauty and smallness 
 of his hand ; a personal grace which he inherited from his mother,, 
 and which was enjoyed in common with him by Marguerite de 
 Valois. 
 
 Upon the present occasion he had withdrawn one glove, of silk,, 
 woven with silver tissue, and pinked with satin, in colours of white 
 and incarnadine; and suffered his small and snowy fingers, loaded 
 with sumptuous rings, to stray negligently through the luxuriant 
 cars of a little lap-dog, sustained by the jester Chicot, who stood by 
 his side. Of dogs, Henri was so passionately fond, that he gene- 
 rally drove out with a carriage full of the most beautiful of the 
 species, and took possession of any others that pleased his fancy ixi 
 the course of the ride. Of his forcible abduction of their favou- 
 rites, loud complaints were made by the nuns, the convents being 
 the best canine store-houses, in the days of this great " dog-fancier," 
 and frequently resorted to by him for fresh supplies. 
 
 Scarcely less splendidly equipped than their sovereign, were the 
 courtiers stationed around him. Upon the right of Henri, who 
 supported himself upon the shoxdder of his chief valet, Du Halde» 
 was placed the portly person of the Marquis de Villequier, sur- 
 named " le jeune ct le. (jms" thougii now laying little claim to the 
 former epithet, near to whom was his son-in-law, D'O., superin- 
 tendent of the finance, occupied in the childish amusement of the 
 bilboquet, then in vogue with all the courtiers, in consequence of 
 their monarch's partiality for it. Even the gallant Joyeuse, and 
 
58 CmCHTOX 
 
 the stately D'Epernon disdained not to indulge in this frivolous 
 pastime; and both of" thcni carried long silver sarbacancs in theil 
 hands, Avith which, like the modern Italians at a carnival, they 
 occasionally pelted the masquers with coni'ectionery and sugar- 
 plumbs, displaying infinite quickness of aim. 
 
 Enuaged in converse with D'Epernon, was Fran9ois D'Eplnay 
 de Saint Luc, Baron de Creveca-ur, another favourite of Henri, 
 and equally distinguished with his companions for a courage, 
 which, in its wild and fierce display, amounted almost to ferocity. 
 Saint Luc was accounted the handsomest man of his time, and 
 •universally obtained the epithet of le beau. Many pages and 
 lacqueys, in the sumptuous liveries and emblazoned array of their 
 lords, were in attendance. 
 
 " Joyeuse," said the king, addressing the young vicomte, in a 
 ^oft and melodious tone, '• canst inform me whose lovely face lurks 
 beneath yon violet mask ? — for lovely 'tis, or else the lips and throat 
 belie it — there, within the train of her majesty, our mother — 
 thou seest whom I mean ?" 
 
 " I do, sire," re|.lied Joyeuse ; " and I quite concur in your 
 majesty's opinion, that the face must be divine which that envious 
 mask shrouds. The throat is superb, the figure that of a Venus. 
 But as to the angelic owner, though I flatter myself I am suffi- 
 ciently acquainted with the dames of her majesty's suite, to ofier a 
 •correct conjecture as to nine out of ten of them, let them be ever so 
 carefully disgidsed, I own I am puzzled by this fair incognita. Her 
 _gait is charming. Vive Dieu ! with your majesty's permission, I 
 will ascertain the point." 
 
 " Stay," said the king. " 'Tls needless. Saint Luc will resolve 
 our doubts at once ; 'twas she with whom he danced the pavane. 
 How name you your fair partner, baron ?" 
 
 " I am equally at a loss with yourself, sire, as to her name," 
 replied Saint Luc, " my eflbrts were in vain to obtain a glimpse of 
 the features, and with the tones of the voice I was wholly imac- 
 quainted." 
 
 " Madame la baronne may well be jealous of her handsome hus- 
 band," said the king, smiling, (the baroness, according to the 
 memoirs of the time, was " bossue, laide et contrefaite et encore 
 pis," if worse can be well conceived); " but if thou. Saint Luc, hast 
 tailed in making an impression upon the fair unknown, which of 
 us shall hope to succeed? It cannot be, though the figure some- 
 what resembles hers, the Demoiselle de Chastaigneraye, or the fair 
 La Bretesche, Villequier would be able to peer through any dis- 
 guise she might assume; nor Surgeres, Ronsard's divinity, nor 
 Teligni, nor Mirande — Mort-dieu ! — not one of them is to com- 
 pare with her. She floats in the dance, as if she moved on air." 
 
 " You appear interested, sire," said Saint Luc, smiling, to show 
 his superb teeth, " are we to infer that the damsel may plume 
 herself upon a royal conquest ?" 
 
THE COURT OF HENRI III. 59 
 
 *• The damsel hatli already made another conquest, upon which 
 she has more reason to phime herself," said Chicot. 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Saint Luc. " Who may that he?" 
 
 " Nay, it refers not to thee, heau Francois," returned the jester. 
 "Thou, like our dear Hcnriot, art the victim of every passing 
 glance; and neither of ye are a conquest upon which a damsel micjlit 
 especially congratulate herself. Now, lie whose love she liath won 
 is one ot whose homage a damsel might he proud." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the king, "thou art in tlie secret, I perceive. 
 Who is the damsel, and which of my gentlemen is her admirer ?" 
 
 " All appear to he so, sire," returned Chicot ; " but were I to 
 point out the most devoted of her admirers, I should indicate your 
 majesty's jester ; if the most audacious. Saint Luc ; if the most 
 fickle, Joyeuse ; if the most grave, D'Epernon ; if the most over- 
 weening, D'O ; if the most bulky, Villequier ; if the most impe- 
 rious, your majesty — " 
 
 "And the moa successful, thou shouldst add," interrupted 
 Henri. 
 
 " No," replied I hicot. " In love affairs kings are never success- 
 ful. They have no bonnes fortunes'' 
 
 " Wherefore not?" asked Henri, smiling. 
 
 " Because their success is due not to themselves but to their 
 station," returned the jester, " and is therefore wholly unworthy 
 of the name good fortune. Can it bo termed a triumph to obtain 
 that which may not be refused?" 
 
 " My ancestor, the great Francis, found it otherwise," returned 
 the king. " He at least was tolerably successl'ul, even in thy sense 
 of the word." 
 
 " I doubt it," replied Chicot. " And so did my ancestor Trlbou- 
 let. Poh ! kings are alwa3''S detected. Did you ever find it other- 
 wise, Henriot?" 
 
 " I shall not make thee my confessor, compere," said Henri ; " but 
 what wouldst thou say were I to hazard the experiment in the case of 
 yon fair unknown ? What wager wilt thou hold, that I do not 
 succeed e]i masque .?" 
 
 " Never throw away the best card, gossip," returned the jester, 
 " that were poor play, indeed. Approach her en roi, if you would 
 be assured of triumph. Even then I have my doubts. But I will 
 stake my sceptre against yours that in the other case your majesty 
 is foiled." 
 
 " I may ])ut it to the proof anon," replied the king, " I am not 
 accustomed to defeat. Meantime, I command thee to disclose all 
 thou knowcst concerning tlie damsel in question." 
 
 *' All I know may be told in a breath, gossip." 
 
 "Her name?" 
 
 " Esclairmonde." 
 
 " A fair beginning. The name likes us well — Esclairmonde de 
 — ffive me the surname?" 
 
OO CRICHTON. 
 
 •' Le diable m'emporte ! tlicre I am at fault, sire — slie has no sur- 
 name." 
 
 " Sang-Dieu ! be serious, eoinpcie." 
 
 " By your father, the great l^uitagruel — an oath I never ejacu- 
 late without due reverence — I swear to you, sire, I am serious. The 
 lovely Esclairmonde hath no patronymic. Slie hath little occasion 
 to consult the lierald for her escutcheon." 
 
 "How, sirrah! and one of the attendants on our mother?" 
 
 " Pardon, sire. You require information — and I am literal in 
 my replies. There is a trilling mystery attached to her birth. Es- 
 clairmonde is an orphan — a Huguenot." 
 
 "A Huguenot!" exclaimed the king, with an expression of 
 disgust, and hastily crossing himself " Paidieu ! thou must be in 
 error." 
 
 " The daughter of a Huguenot, I should have said," returned 
 Chicot. "No one would look for heretics in the train of her 
 most Catholic Majesty, Catherine de INIedicis. They would flee 
 from her hs the fiend from holy water. jNIartin Luther or John 
 Calvin have few disciples within the Louvre." 
 
 *' Heaven forbid !" ejaculated the monarch, fervently grasping 
 his chaplet of mort-heads. " ^Tis strange," he added, after a mo- 
 ment's pause, " that I have never before heard of this giil, or of her 
 story. Are you sure you are not amusing us with some silly fable?" 
 
 " Does INIadame Catherine trust you with all her secrets, gossip?" 
 demanded Cliicot " I trow not. But attend to me, and you shall 
 have the story of Esclairmonde in the true style of a chronicler. 
 Imnnired within her chamber, carefully watclied by her Majesty's 
 attendants, suffered to hold no intercourse with any of the palace, 
 and above all no communion with any suspected of heresy, Es- 
 clairmonde until within these few days has led a life of entire 
 seclusion. Whoever her father may have been — and that he was 
 of rank, and a veritable Huguenot, cannot, methinks, be doubted — 
 he perished by the edge of the sword at the day of Saint Bartlielemy, 
 of blessed memory. While yet a child she was placed within the 
 hands of your royal parent, by whom she hath been reared in the 
 true Catholic and Apostolic faith, and in the manner I have 
 related." 
 
 " Mort-Dieu ! the tale is curious,'' replied the king; " and I now 
 remember somewhat of the details thou hast g^.vcn, though they had 
 long since escaped my memory. I must see and converse with the 
 fair Esclairmonde. Our mother hath not used us well in neglecting 
 to present the damsel to us." 
 
 " Your royal mother hath usually good reason for her actions, sire, 
 and 1 will answer for it in the present instance she had the best of 
 motives for her apparent neglect." 
 
 " Beshrew thy ribald tongue, sirrah,'^ returned Henri, laughing; 
 " I have yet, however, anotlier question to put to thee. Have a 
 care thou answerest it not lightly. Of what particular cavalier 
 
THE COURT OF HENRI III. 61 
 
 hath Esclairmonclc made conquest? Ot" wliich of tlicsc gentlemen? 
 Take no heed of their glances, but reply without fear." 
 
 " I should not fear to speak, were it to any of them that 1 
 alluded," replied Chicot ; " but it was not so. Let these gentlemen 
 withdraw a lew paces, and thou shalt learn thy rival's name." 
 
 At a gesture I'rom the king the courtiers retired to a little distance. 
 — " 'Tis Crichton," said Chicot. 
 
 *'Crichton!" echoed the king in surprise — " the peerless — the 
 Admirable Crichton, as he hath this day been surnamed — who hath 
 vanquislied our university in close conllict — he were indeed a rival 
 to be feared. But thou art wrong in naming him, go?sip. Crichton 
 is ensnared within the toils of our sister ol Navarre, and she is as 
 little likely to brook inconstancy as any dame within the land. 
 We are saie, therefore, on that score. Besides, he hath no thought 
 of other beauty. A-propos of Crichton, it now occurs to me that 
 I have not seen him to-niirht. Will he not grace our festival? 
 Our sister AI arguerite languishes in his absence like a pining floweret, 
 nor will she force a smile for Brantome's sprightliest sally, or Ron- 
 sard's most fanciful rhapsody. What hath become of him?"' 
 
 " I am wholly ignorant, sire," replied the jester. " He started 
 at full speed from the College of Navarre after our afFiay Avith those 
 disloyal scholars, ccs bons rustres, as mine uncle Panurge would 
 call them ; several of whom, as I already inibrined your majesty, are 
 safely lodged within the Grand-Chivtelet awaiting your disposal. 
 But what hath since befallen him I know not, save that he may by 
 accident have thrust his hand into the hornet's nest." 
 
 " Thou speakest in riddles, compere," said the king, gravely. 
 
 *' Here cometh one shall read them for you, sire," returned 
 Chicot: " One more learned than Oedipus — Le Ramoneur d'Astro- 
 logie — you will hear all from him." 
 
 " Ruggieri f exclaimed the king. " Is it indeed our astrologer, 
 or hath some masker assumed his garb?" 
 
 " A circumstance not very likely," replied Chicot, " unless the 
 wearer has a fancy for being poignarded by accident, as will, in all 
 probability, be the case with Ruggieri, provided he escape the stake. 
 What hath happened, father?" asked the jester, surveying Rug- 
 gieri with a malignant grin. " Are the stars overcast — is the moon 
 echpsed — or hath a bearded comet risen in the heavens ? — What 
 prodigy hath occurred ? Have thy philters failed — are thine images 
 molten — or hast thou poisoned a friend by mistake ? — Hath thy 
 dwarf eloped with a succuba or salamander — thy gold turned to 
 withered leaves — thy jewels proved counterfeit — thy drugs lost 
 their virtues? — By Trismegistus, what hath gone amiss ?" 
 
 " Can I have an instant's speech with your majesty?" said Rug- 
 gieri, Avith a profound obeisance, and disregarding the taunts of tho 
 jester. " Wliat I have to say imports you much." 
 
 " Say on, then," rephed the king. 
 
62 CRicnxox. 
 
 Ruggieri looked at Chicot. Henri waved his hand, and the 
 jester lehictantly ■withdrew. 
 
 " I warrant me it is to speak of Crlchton and tlie Gelosa that 
 the' accursed old owl hath quitted his roost," he muttered. " Would 
 1 could catch a syllable of his speech. jNIetliinks I am afflicted 
 with a more than wonted deafness, or the crafty knave hath prac- 
 tised the art of talking in an under-key to some purpose. Hia 
 majesty looks wonder-stricken, yet not displeased. He smiles ; 
 what pretended secret can the lyino- old miscreant have to make 
 known.'' 
 
 Henri, meanwhile, listened with evident surprise to the com- 
 munication of Ruggieri, but offered no interruption beyond an 
 occasional exclamation of astonishment, accompanied by a slight 
 shrug of the shoulders. As the astrologer concluded, he mused 
 for a moment, and then addressed him. 
 
 " I have observed that mask, Ruggieri," he said, smiling, " at 
 the Hotel de Bourbon, but little thought whose visage it shrouded. 
 Mort-dieu ! thou hast let me into a pretty confidence. I have 
 sufficient, methinks, to answer for in my own indiscretions, with- 
 out making myself responsible for those of others. However, this 
 young galliard shall have my assistance. Hath he seen the Due de 
 Nevers ?" 
 
 "No, sire," returned Ruggieri; "and whatever may betide, 
 into whatever perils his youth and hot blood may lead him, I im- 
 plore your majesty to maintain his secret and afford him your 
 protection." 
 
 "Fear not. You have our royal word. Corbieu! I delight 
 in mysteries and intrigue of all kinds, and will lend him a helping 
 hand with pleasure. He is a youth after my own heart, to engage 
 in such a madcap frolic. I am charmed with his story, yet 1 own 
 I can scarce comprehend how a player-girl like this can occasion 
 him so mucli trouble. Our actresses are not wont to be so hard- 
 hearted — ha, ha, especially to one of our masker's consequence— 
 eh, Ruggieri ? This is new, methinks." 
 
 " There is magic in the case, sire," replied Ruggieri, myste- 
 riously ; "he is spell-bound." 
 
 " Mary Mother !" said the king, crossing himself f^evoutly. 
 "Shield us from the devices of the evil one! And yet, Ruggieri, 
 I must own I am somewhat sceptical as to these imaginary temp- 
 tations. More witchcraft resides in the dark eyes of that Gelosa 
 than in thy subtlest compounds. But from whatever source her 
 attraction originates, it is clear that the charm is sufficiently po- 
 tent to drive our mask to his wits' ends, or he would never have 
 committed sucli extravagancies in her pursuit.'' 
 
 " Sire, I have now fulfilled my mission," returned Ruggieri. "I 
 have put your majesty upon your cfuard against what may be urged 
 by Crlchton. Have I your permission to depart ?" 
 
 " Stay I" said the king, " a thought strikes me. Du Halde," 
 
THE COURT OF HENRI III. G? 
 
 he exclaimed, motioning to the chief valet, " say to the queen, our 
 mother, that we would confer an instant with her; and add out 
 request that her mnjesty will, at the same time, take an opportunity 
 of presenting the Bemoiselle Esclairmonde." 
 
 Du Halde bowed and departed. 
 
 " I have my mystery, likewise, Ruggicri ; and, singularly 
 enough, this Crichton is in some way mixed up with it. For the 
 first time tliis evening I have discovered that a beauty of the first 
 order has been nurtured within the Louvre, whom no one knows, 
 but with whom Crichton is in love. Scarcely have I recovered 
 from the surprise into which I have been thrown by tliis incident,, 
 when tliou comcst to tell me that the pretty Italian singing boy,, 
 with whose canzonettas and romances I have been so much de- 
 lighted, and who has been tlic life and soul of our comedies, turns 
 out to be a girl in masquerade, who, pursued by an ardent lover, 
 flings herself into Crichton's arms. What am I to think of all this,, 
 knowing, as I do, that this very Crichton is the favourite of our 
 sister JNlarguerite, who for him has abjured all her old amourettes, 
 and who watches over him with a jealous frenzy like a first passion ? 
 What am I to think of it, I say?" 
 
 " That Venus smiled upon his nativity, sire," replied Ruggieri, 
 with a profound inclination of his head. " Little is due to him- 
 self^ — much to the celestial influences — he is predestined to success. 
 By Nostradamus ! 'tis fortunate for your majesty that you are not 
 placed in a similar predicament with our mask. Had your aflec- 
 tions been fixed upon the same damsel with Crichton, I fear even- 
 your chance, sire, would have been a shglit one." 
 
 " Sang-Dieu I" exclaimed Henri, " they are all of one opinion. 
 These are Chicot's sentiments exactly. Mark me, Ruggieri. As- 
 concerns Esclalrmonde I have my own designs. In this matter cf 
 the Gelosa, thou and thy mask may calculate upon my countt- 
 nance. In return I shall require thy assistance should any unforeseen 
 obstacles present themselves in my own case. As to Crichton, we 
 will leave him to the vigilance; of our sister INIarguerite. A hint 
 will suffice with lier. She will save us a world of trouble. In afiairs 
 of gallantry we shall sec whether even tlie Admirable Crichton can 
 cope with Henri dc Valois." 
 
 Ruggieri shrugged his shoulders. "'Tis vain to struggle with 
 the stars, sire, Che sara, sara." 
 
 "But tlie stars say not that Esclalrmonde shall be his, eh, 
 Ruggieri?" 
 
 " His destiny is a proud one," replied Ruggieri; "that, at least, 
 ihey have foretold.''' 
 
 At this moment Du Halde approached, announcing Her Majesty, 
 Catherine de JMedicls, and the Demoiselle Esclalrmonde. 
 
 Both were unmasked. 
 
CKICHTON. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ESCLAIR MONDE. 
 
 La Eeyne-^Iere avoit ordinairement de fort belles et honorables fiUes, areo 
 lesquellfs tous les jours en son antichambre on conversoit, on discouroit, on devi- 
 «oit, tant sagement et tant niodestemei t que Ten n'eust os^ faire autrement. 
 
 Branjome — Dames I (lustres. Discours IL 
 
 Henri III., though perfectly heartless, was the politest monarch 
 in tlie world. "With all the refined courtesy of manner, therefore, 
 for which he was so eminently distinguished, he gracefully advanced 
 towards Esclairmonde, and, as she tendered to him her homage, 
 he gallantly raised her hand to his hps, and with his most captiva- 
 ting smile, proceeded to eulogise her beauty in those soft periods of 
 adulation which kings know so well how to turn, and no kmcr 
 better than Henri ; exerting himself so well to relieve her embar- 
 rassment, that his efforts were not long unsuccessful. To a 
 monarch's attention, indeed, few female hearts are insensible. 
 
 Surprised at the sight of Ruggieri, for whose unbidden appear- 
 ance at the fete she felt unable to account, and who in vain, by 
 sundry significant gestures, sought to convey to her some notion of 
 his errand to the Louvre, Catherine de IMedicis, ever suspicious 
 of her confidants, could not, or would not, be made to comprehend 
 his hints ; but regarding him with a look of displeasure during 
 the brief ceremonial of presentation, she motioned him aside, so 
 ■soon as etiquette permitted, and proceeded to question him as to 
 the cause of his presence. Seeing his lynx-eyed mother thus 
 occupied, Henri, not slow to profit by the opportunity which 
 her present distraction afforded liim of assailing the heart of her 
 lovely maid of honour, proffered Esclairmonde his hand, and gently 
 -drew her towards the deep embrasure of a magnificent window 
 where they might converse unobserved. 
 
 Tliough not habitually sincere in his expressions of admiration, 
 Henri, on this occasion, must be acquitted of any attempt at dissi- 
 inulation. He was greatly struck, as indeed, he could not fail to 
 be, with the loveliness of Esclairmonde. Accustomed to the blazo 
 of beauty by which his court was encircled ; with a heart little sus- 
 •ceptible of any new emotion, and with a disposition to judge some- 
 what too nicely each attribute of female perfection, he could not 
 lielp admitting, that not only were the charms of Esclairmonde 
 without parallel, but that there was no point either of her coun- 
 tenance or person, or what was of equal importance in his eyes, of 
 her attire, which his critical eye did not pronounce to be faultless. 
 
 Alas ! how Inadequate are mere words to convey a notion of 
 the beauty sought to be portrayed. The creation of the poet's 
 fancy fades in the cvmicscent colouring he Is compelled to employ. 
 The pen cannot trace wliat the pencil Is enabled so vividly to depict: 
 it cannot accurately define the exquisite contour of the face, neither 
 can it supply the breathing hues of the cheek, the kindling lustre 
 
ESCLAIRMONDE. 65 
 
 of the eye, the dewy gloss of the iip, or the sheen of the hair, be 
 it black as the raven's wing, glowing as a sunbeam, or fleecy as 
 a summer cloud. The imagination alone can furnish these details. 
 
 Imagine, then, features moulded in the most harmonious form of 
 beauty, and chiselled with a taste at once softened and severe. The 
 eyes of a dark deep blue, swimming with chastened tcndernese. 
 An inexpressible charm reigns about the lips; and a slight dimple, 
 in which a thousand Cupids might bask, softly indents the smooth 
 and rounded chin. Raised from the brow so as completely to dis- 
 play its snowy expanse, the rich auburn hair is gathered in plaits 
 at the top of the head, crisped with light curls at the sides, orna- 
 mented with a string of pearls, and secured at the back with a 
 knot of ribands ; a style of head-dress introduced by the unfortu- 
 nate Mary Stuart, from whom it derived its name, and then 
 universally adopted in the French court. The swan -like throat is 
 encircled by a flat collar of starched muslin edged with pointed, 
 lace. Rich purple velvet of Florence, constitutes the material of the 
 dress, the long and sharp boddice of which attracted Henri's atten- 
 tion to the slender shape and distinctly defined bosom of the lovelji 
 demoiselle. 
 
 In passing, it may be remarked, that the rage for the excessively 
 attenuated Avaist was then at its highest. Our tiiiSit-laced ^rand- 
 mothers were nothing to the wasp- shaped dames of the court of 
 Catherine de Medicis. Fitting like a cuirass, the corset was 
 tightened around the shape till its fliir Avearer, if her figure hap- 
 pened to exceed the supposed limits of gracefulness, could scarcely 
 gasp beneath the parasite folds, while the same preposterous sleeve 
 which characterised the cavaliers of the period, likewise distinguished 
 the dames. Nor had Esclairraonde neglected due observance of 
 this beauty-outraging mode, or despite her personal attractions she 
 would scarcely have found favour in her sovereign's eyes. Those 
 prodigious coverings of the arms were stuffed out, and sustained 
 by a huge pile of wool, and were of such amplitude and width 
 that they would easily have contained three or four of our mo- 
 dern sleeves. Edged witla pointed lace, starched like that of the 
 collar, a rufl" of muslin completed the gear of the arm. Around 
 her neck was twined a chain of bronze medallions, and a single 
 pear-shaped pearl descended from the acute extremity of her 
 stomacher. 
 
 Tall and majestic in figure, the carriage of Esclairmonde was 
 graceful and dignified ; and as he contemplated her soft and sunny 
 countenance, Henri thought that, with one solitary exception, he 
 had never beheld an approach to its beauty. That exception was 
 INIary of Scotland, whose charms, at the period when she was 
 united to his elder brother, Francis the Second, had made a lively 
 impression on his youthful heart, some sense of which he still re- 
 tained, and whose exquisite lineaments those of Esclairmonde so 
 much resembled, as forcibly to recall their remembrance. There 
 
 F 
 
66 CRICHTON. 
 
 was the same sleepy languor of the dark, blue eye — the same in- 
 effable sweetness of smile — tlie same pearly teeth displayed by the 
 smile — the same petit nez retrousse (that prettiest of all feminine 
 features and well meriting La Fontaine's admiration — 
 
 Nez trousse, c'est un charme encore selon mon sens, 
 C'en estmcme un des plus piiissans — 
 
 though perhaps it may evidence a slight tendency to coquetry on 
 the part of the owner) the same arched and even brow — in short, 
 there were a hundred traits of resemblance which Henri was not 
 slow to discover. In a few minutes he became desperately in love; 
 that is as much in love as a king could be under the circumstances, 
 and moreover such a blast king as Henri. 
 
 " By Cupidon ! belle Esclairmondc," he said, still retaining pos- 
 session of her hand, "I am half disposed to charge my mother with 
 leze-majeste in so long denying ine the gratification I now experi- 
 ence in welcoming to my masque the loveliest of my guests. J\Iort- 
 Dieu ! ardent admirer as she knows I am of beauty, her majesty's 
 omission savours of positive cruelty ; nor should I so readily over- 
 look the fault, did not my present satisfaction in some degree 
 reconcile me to the previous disappointment." 
 
 " Your majesty attaches more importance to the circumstance 
 than it merits," returned Esclairmondc, gently endeavouring to 
 disengage her hand. *' Flattered as I am by your notice, it is an 
 honour to which I had no pretension to aspire." 
 
 " In faith, not so, fair demoiselle," replied the king. " Beauty 
 has a claim upon my attention to which all other recommendations 
 are secondary. I were no true Valois were it otherwise. You 
 will not refuse me your hand at the banquet,"" he added, in a lower 
 tone, and with an eiiipressement of manner which could not be 
 %iistaken. 
 
 The colour mounted to Esclalrmonde's cheeks. 
 
 " Sire !" she returned, with a thrill of apprehension, " my hand 
 is at your disposal." 
 
 " But not your heart?" asked the king, in an impassioned whisper. 
 
 Esclairmondc trembled. She saw at once the danger of her 
 position, and summoned all her firmness to her assistance. 
 " Sire !" she replied, with her eyes fixed upon the ground, and in a 
 tone which struggled to be firm, " my heart is not my own. It is 
 devoted to another." 
 
 " Mort-Dieu !" exclaimed the king, unable to control his displea- 
 sure. " You avow it — you love — " 
 
 " I said not so, sire." 
 
 " How ! — and devoted to another?" 
 
 " 1 am betrothed to Heaven; my destiny is the cloister." 
 
 "Is that all?" said Henri, recovering his composure. "I half 
 suspected there were other ties that bound you to earth. But a 
 cloister — no, no — this must never be, mignonne. No mo- 
 nastery shall entomb so fair a saint, while I can hinder it. Such 
 
?^. 
 
 PvPSPVlt;! 
 
 l-' '■'■ uriuoiidc 
 
ESCLAIRMONDE. 6? 
 
 gifts are not liglitly bestowed, nor should they be heedlessly 
 thrown away ; and I shall fulfil a duty in preventing such an im- 
 molation at the shrine of mistaken zeal, as would be your impri- 
 sonment in a cloister. If the resolution proceed from the queen 
 mother, my authority shall be interposed to restrain her intentions, 
 for, by our lady ! I cannot believe that you, child, have any such 
 dissatistiiction with the world as to wish to withdraw yourself from 
 it, when its gayest prospects are opening before your view ; when 
 your path is strewn with flowers, and when all the chivalry of 
 France, with their monarch at their head, are eager to contend for 
 your smiles." 
 
 " It is your royal mother's will that I accept it,'' replied Esclair- 
 monde, timidly glancing at Catherine de Medicis, who, still 
 engaged in deep conlerence witli the astrologer, was too much 
 absorbed to observe her look. " From her majesty's resolves there 
 is no alternative. She will dispose of me as she sees fitting." 
 
 " IJut not without my concurrence," returned the king. " Mort- 
 Dicu ! — her majesty trifles with the sceptre till she fancies it is her 
 own hand that sways it. I must convince her to the contrary. 
 How she can entertain a notion so absurd as to think of burying 
 one of the loveliest of her attendants within the gloom of a con- 
 vent, passes our comprehension. Had it been our Queen oNIadame 
 Louise do Vaudemont, who ever carries a missal within her gibe- 
 ci^re, I could understand it; but that our mother, wlio, though zea- 
 lous as ourselves at her vespers and masses, has no particular fana- 
 ticism, should contemplate an act so preposterous, seems unaccount- 
 able. INIorbleu ! she must have some motive." 
 
 '' Her niiijcsty has no motive save zeal in the cause of her re- 
 ligion." 
 
 " So it may appear to you, mignoune ; but our mother's reasons 
 lie not on the surtace. Be they what they may, you need no longer 
 apprehend her interference. Unless prompted by your own incli- 
 nations, you will never utter the vows which will bind you wholly 
 to Heaven to the neglect of all on earth." 
 
 " Upon my knees, sire,'' replied Esclairmonde, " would I thank 
 you for the precious boon you promise me, would thanks suiEce; 
 but I feel they would not. I cannot misunderstand your looks. 
 Gratitude, devotion, loyal afiection towards your majesty will ever 
 influence my bosom ; but not love, except such as a subject should 
 ieel towards her sovereign. My life, my destiny is at your disposal; 
 but seek not my heart, sire, which is neither mine to bestow, nor 
 yours to solicit." 
 
 *' If not your own," said Henri, somewhat maliciously, " to 
 whose keeping have you intrusted it ?" 
 
 " The question is ungenerous — unworthy of your majesty." 
 
 "You need not answer it, then," returned the king; "the 
 rather,'" he added, with a meaning smile, " that the secret is mine 
 already. Few whispers breathed within these walls fail to reach 
 
 f2 
 
68 CRICHTOX. 
 
 my ears; nor were those of the Admirable Criohton so low as to 
 escape our attention. Nay tremble not, child, I betray no con- 
 fidences. There is one person, however, against whom 1 must put 
 you upon your guard. You know her not as well as I do. Fate 
 grant you never may." 
 
 " To whom does your majesty allude ?"" asked Esclairmonde, 
 with an expression of uneasiness. 
 
 " Have you no suspicion ? Does not your heart prom|)t you? — 
 1' faith, you are not so much taken with this Crichton as I imagined, 
 or else, whicli I can scarcely believe, you have little jealousy in your 
 composition." 
 
 " Of whom would your majesty have me entertain a feeling of 
 jealousy? Against Avhom would you put me on my guard?" 
 
 *' Whom you see yonder — tlie star queen of the revel, round 
 whom all the lesser orbs revolve, — who attracts all within her 
 sphere, and who sheds, as such stars generally do, her rays on all 
 alike?" 
 
 *' Your majesty's sister, the Queen of Navarre ?" 
 
 " Precisely; and it is of her I council you to beware." 
 
 " I do not understand your majesty." 
 
 " j\Iort-Dieu ! that is strange. You do not mean to say, 
 that, in alluding to Crichton's amourette with the Queen of 
 Navarre, we tell you any thing new. Why, the whole court 
 rings, or did ring, with it; for, in fact, the scandal is somewhat 
 stale, and no one now concerns himself about it. Our sister 
 changes her gallants so often that her constancy is the only thing 
 that excites a moment's marvel. A short while ago it was Mar- 
 tigues — then La Mole — then le heau Saint Luc — then Mon- 
 sieur de Mayenne, 'ban compagnon, grns et gras^ as our brother 
 Henri of Navarre calls him — then Turenne, a caprice — then 
 Bussy d'Amboise, a real passion. After Bussy, appeared Crich- 
 ton, who, having disarmed D'Amboise, till that time deemed 
 invincible, became the reigning favourite — making the grand 
 corollary to these pleasant premises. So the affair stands at pre- 
 sent. How long it is likely to continue, rests with you to de- 
 termine. Marguerite will never brook a rival; and can you suffer 
 him you love to be the slave — the worshipper of another ?" 
 
 " i knew it not. And does he — does the Seigneur Crichton — 
 aspire to her affections?" 
 
 Henri smiled. 
 
 " He has deceived you," said he, after an Instant's pause, during 
 which time he intently watched the workings of her countenance 
 *' Revenge is in your power. His perfidy demands it. The gamo 
 is in your hands — play off a king against his queen." 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " The cloister, then, awaits you." 
 
 " I v:ill die rather. I am of the reformed faith, sire." 
 
 *' Damnation !" ejaculated Henri, recoiling, telling his bead% 
 
 I 
 
ESCLAIRMONDE. 69 
 
 and sprinkling Kimself with perfume from one of the flacons at his 
 girdle; "a Huguenot, Mort-Dieu! — I shall expire — a heretic in 
 our presence ! It is an affront to our understanding — and the girl is 
 so pretty, too — Diable ! * Indulgentiam absolutionem et remissioncm 
 peccatorum tribue, Domine !' " he continued, devoutly crossing 
 himself; "I am stricken with horror — pah! * Ab omni phantasia 
 et nequitia vel versutia diabolicre fraudis libera me, Domine !' " 
 And he recited another paternoster, performing a fresh aspersion, 
 after which he added with more composure: " Luckily, no one has 
 overheard us. It is not too late to recant your errors. Ivccall those 
 silly words, and t will endeavour to forget them." 
 
 " Sire," replied Esclairmonde, calmly ; " I cannot recad what I 
 have asserted. I am of the faith of which I have already avowed 
 myself a member. I reject all otlier creeds save that which I believe 
 to be the truth. In that I will live — in that, if need be, die." 
 
 " Your words may prove prophetic, demoiselle," returned Henri, 
 with a sneer ; " are you aware of the peril in which this mad avowal 
 of your opinions might place j^ou?" 
 
 " 1 am prepared to meet the doom, which in the same cause, 
 made martyrs of my father and all my family." 
 
 " Tush ! 3''ou heretics are ever stubborn. This accounts for your 
 non-compliance with my wislies. However," he muttered, " I shall 
 not give up the point thus readily, nor for a scruple or so in point 
 of conscience, baulk my inclinations. Besides, I remember I have 
 an indulgence from his Holiness, Gregory XI H., providing for 
 a contingency like the present. Let me see, it runs thus : lor an 
 affair with a Huguenot, twelve additional masses per week, to be 
 continued for three weeks; item — a rich coffer for the Sacristy of 
 the Innocents; item — a hundred rose-nobles for the Ursulincs, and 
 a like sum for the Hieronimites ; item — a procession with the 
 Flagellants ; and then I have the condonation of lais Holiness. 
 The penance is light enough, and were it more severe, I would 
 willingly incur it. 'Tis strange — a Huguenot perdue in the 
 Louvre — this must be inquired into. Our mother must be in the 
 secret. Her mystery — her caution — proclaim her acquaintance 
 with the fact. I will inquire into it at my leisure, as well as in- 
 vestigate all particulars of this girl's story. A Huguenot ! i\lort- 
 Dieu ! From whom," he added, aloud to Esclairmonde, " did you 
 derive these abominable doctrines, demoiselle?" 
 
 " Your majesty will excuse my answering that question." 
 
 " As you please, mignonne. Tliis is neither the time nor the 
 place to enforce a reply. Your story and your conduct alike per- 
 plex me — but, time will unravel the affair. Now mark me, 
 demoiselle. As yet I have approached you as a humble suitor, de- 
 sirous in that capacity to win your regard. I now resume the king, 
 and remind you, that your life, your liberty, your person, are at 
 my disposal; nor shall I forget the interests of your soul, in which 
 good office I may call in the assistance of some of my most zealous 
 ecclesiastics. If ray measures appear harsh, you may thank your 
 
70 CRICHTON. 
 
 own perversity. I\Iy -vvisli is to be lenient. Obedience is all I re- 
 quire. Till midnight, therefore, 1 give you to rcllcet. On the 
 one hand, you will weigli my favour, my love — i'or I still love you; 
 on the other, Crichton's infidelity, a cloister, perchance a darker 
 doom. Make your own election. After the banquet I shall expect 
 an answer." 
 ^ " jNIy answer will still be the same," returned Esclairmonde. 
 
 At this moment, a loud clapping of hands was heard at the fur- 
 ther end of the hall, and the music replied to the acclamations in 
 loud and joyous strains. ^I'o Esclairmonde the notes sounded wild 
 and dissonant, and the laughing buzz of gaiety pealed like the din 
 of some infernal concourse. The glittering saloon and its gay and 
 ever-changing throng of masks and revellers vanished from her 
 sight, and before her, like a ghastly vision, rose the cowled inqui- 
 sitors, the stern and threatening judges, the white-robed sisterhood, 
 in whose presence she seemed to stand with hair unbound, and 
 with a thick black veil thrown over her face ! She shrank as lor 
 protection, and recovered her senses only to encounter the libertine 
 gaze of Henri. 
 
 Again the music sounded joyously, and the torches of the bransle 
 being liglited, the giddy dancers passed them in a whirl of flame. 
 
 " j\la foi, we lose time here," said the king. " Not a word, 
 demoiselle — as you value your life or his, of our converse, to 
 Crichton — should he still, as is not unlikely, make his appearance 
 at our revel. — Resume your mask and maintain your composure. 
 Soh, 'tis well." 
 
 Though scarcely able to command herself, Esclairmonde, in 
 compliance with the king's request, placed her violet-coloured mask 
 upon her face, and yielded, not without a shudder, her hand. 
 
 As they issued irom the recess in which their conversation had 
 ;aken place, the jester Chicot advanced towards the monarch. 
 
 *' What wouldst thou, gossip ?" said Henri. " Thy wise 
 countenance is charged with more than its usual meaning." 
 
 " A proof I am neither in love nor drunk, compere," replied 
 Chicot ; "as in either case our family resemblance becomes the 
 stronger, your majesty being always either the one or the other, 
 and not unlrequcntly both. The superabundance of my meaning, 
 theretbre, you will lay to the charge of my sobriety and discretion." 
 
 " Bah ! — this jesting is ill timed." 
 
 " Then it is in keeping with your majesty's love-making." 
 
 " Be silent, sirrah, or say what brings thee hither !" 
 
 *' "What shall be done to the man whom the king delighteth to 
 honour ?" 
 
 " And who is the man, gossip ?*' 
 
 " He who threatens, more than Henri of Lorraine, or Henri of 
 Navarre, or Philip of Spain, or, despite the Salic law, your royal 
 mother to depose you, sire — see how your loyal subjects quit your 
 side. If your majesty decline the office, permit the Demoiselle 
 Esclairmonde to olier him welcome." 
 
ESCLATRMOXDE. 71 
 
 " Ha ! I begin to comprehend tliee. It is the Admirable Crich- 
 ton whom thou wouldst announce." 
 
 " I took the precaution to warn your majesty of his cominf^-, as I 
 would apprise a friend of a jealous husband's return."" 
 
 " Crichton !" exclaimed Esclairmonde, roused from her stupor 
 by the mention of the name ; "he here ! May I crave your per- 
 mission to rejoin her majesty ?" 
 
 " By no means, mignonne," rephed Henri, coldly; " I would 
 not deprive you of the pleasure of witnessing my interview with 
 this phccnix of schoolmen. You will, therefore, remain near me — 
 and neglect not," he added, in a tone only calculated for Esclair- 
 monde's hearing ; " the caution I have given you. You shall 
 have proof enough of his inconstancy anon. Mcsseigneurs," he 
 added, aloud, addressing the lords in attendance; "approach. The 
 victor of the university is at hand. It is not often that it falls to 
 a king's lot to number a scholar amongst his courtiers. You may 
 remember, mcsseigneurs, at our last jousting, I foretold Crichton's 
 distinction, and promised him a boon. To-night I will redeem the 
 royal pledge. Joyeuse, bid her ^Majesty of Navarre attend upon 
 me. To lier, no doubt, my welcome will possess peculiar interest. 
 Madame, my mother, if your conference be ended with Ruggieri, 
 your presence will lend additional grace to the reception. Be 
 seated, I pray you. I would welcome the Admirable Crichton as 
 a king should welcome him." 
 
 Seating himself upon a richly-ornamented fauteuil, brought by 
 his attendants, Henri was instantly encompassed by his courtiers, 
 who formed a brilliant semicircle around him. 
 
 Catlierine de INIedicis, whose conference witli the astrologer had 
 been long since ended, remarked Henri's attention to Esclairmonde 
 with some dissatisfaction. Accustomed, however, rather to encou- 
 rage her son's wayward inclinations than to check them (and 
 therein lay the secret of her rule ), she allowed no expression of dis- 
 pleasure to escape her, but took her seat majestically by his side. 
 Behind Catherine, crouched Ruggieri, uneasily shuffling to and fro, 
 with the glare and the slufting movement of a caged hya3na. 
 
 Nearer to the king, and clinging to his throne for support, was 
 placed Esclairmonde, now almost in a state of distraction. 
 
 Chicot reclined himself familiarly at Henri's feet, with his ma- 
 rotte in hand, and the monarch's long-cared, large-eyed, favourite 
 on his knee, its long ears sweeping the floor. Poor Chatelard ! As 
 the gentle animal submitted to his caress, Henri thought for an in- 
 stant of her from whom he had received him as a sister's remem- 
 brance — he thought of Mary of Scotland — of her captivity — of her 
 charms — and of Esclairmonde's strange resemblance to her — and 
 this brought back the whole tide of passion. " Singular, most sin- 
 gular," he mused; " would she had been a Jewess, or a Pagan! 
 There might then have been some hope of her — but a Huguenot 
 
 — ouf r 
 
7i CRICHTON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HENRI III. 
 
 Don Carlos. A genoux, due! re9ois ce collier — sois fidelel — 
 Par Saint Etienne, due, je te fais ehevalier. — 
 
 Victor Hugo. Hemani, Acte IV^ Scene VI. 
 
 Crichtom's arrival at the revel had created an extraordinary 
 sensation. His brilliant achievements at the university, Avhich, 
 coupled with his gallant and chivalrous and any thing but scholastic 
 character, excited universal astonishment, formed the chief topic of 
 conversation, and every body expressed surprise as to the time 
 ■when he acquired the wondrous store of erudition which had con- 
 founded all the wisdom of the land. How could he have attained 
 such boundless information ? He had been at the chase, the hall 
 of arms, tlie carousal, the fete — in short, he had been everywhere, 
 but where he might be supposed to be, alone and in his study. He 
 had been the life of every thing — dashing at all, and succeeding in 
 all ; rejecting nothing in the whole round of pleasurable amuse- 
 ment — now swayed by the smile of beauty — now attracted by the 
 beck of the gamester, Avhose dice seemed obedient to his will — now 
 pledging toast for toast with the votary of Bacchus, whose glowing 
 cups seemed to have for him no inebriation. He had been all this 
 and more ; and yet this reckless, heedless voluptuary, Avho pursued 
 enjoyment with an intensity of zeal unknown even to her most 
 ardent followers, had excelled the learned and laborious denizens 
 of wisdom's chosen retreat. 
 
 All was animation on his entrance. Tlie report flew along the 
 saloon on wings, swifter than those of scandal. " He is arrived," was 
 echoed from mouth to mouth. The songsters were deserted, though 
 the band was Catherine's choicest Italian company — the ballet was 
 abandoned, though it had only just commenced — though the dan- 
 seuses were the most graceful imaginable, and a moitit nnes — the 
 bransle-des-flambeaux was neglected, though the perfumed torches 
 had reached the point when their blaze was to make one giddy whirl 
 of many-coloured flame — the stately pavanne broke into a quick 
 movement — the grave pazzameno lost all bounds — the commotion 
 became general — the infection irresistible. Eyes, brighter than the 
 jewels of their wearers, rained their influence upon Crichton as he 
 passed, and odorous bouquets fell at his feet as if they had dropped 
 like manna from the skies. Human nature could not resist homage so 
 flattering, and the handsome Scot appeared for an instant almost 
 overpowered by it. 
 
 The same richness of taste that characterised Crichton's cos- 
 tume of the morning, distinguished his evening attire. He Avore 
 no mask — nor, what Avas then generally adopted, a toque or cap 
 
HENRI III. 73 
 
 •mth a panacKe of gay-coloured feathers — neither had he assumed 
 any fanciful garb. His dress was a rich suit of white satin slashed 
 with azure, the jerkin and hose fitting without a crease to the 
 modelled limbs. Having divested himself of his Spanish cloak and 
 plumed cap in the entrance-hall, nothing interfered with the exact 
 display of his symmetrical person ; and as, with a step elastic and 
 buoyant as that of a winged Mercury, he passed through the 
 crowded groups, he appeared like an impersonation of fabulous 
 grace and beauty. 
 
 Not a trace of the fatigue which might be supposed incident to 
 his prolonged intellectual conflict, was discernible in his proud, stead- 
 fast features. High emotions sat upon his lofty brow — his coun- 
 tenance Avas radiant — and a smile sat upon his lip. With chival- 
 rous and courteous grace, he returned the congratulations and com- 
 pliments showered upon him, neither appearing to avoid nor yet 
 court attention, but essaying to pass on to the upper end of the 
 saloon. 
 
 Presently Du Halde made his appearance ; and, sensible that all 
 eyes were upon him, that mirror ot courtUness performed his task 
 to admiration. 
 
 When Henri's intimation became known, a new impetus was 
 given to the asscmblnge. In vain the almost bewildered l)u Halde 
 raised high his fleur-de-lis-covered rod of oftice. In vain he slirugged 
 his shoulders, and made the most pathetic remonstrances, and to 
 remonstrances added entreaties, and to entreaties, threats. The tide 
 ■would not be repressed ; but, like that of the scholars of the morn- 
 ing, pressed forward quite resolved, it would seem, to be present at 
 Crichton's audience Avith the king. Deference, however, for the 
 royal presence withheld them from advancing too close. The royal 
 guard of halberdiers, pages, and lacqueys, placed themselves in 
 I'ront, and formed a dense phalanx round the throne. 
 
 The clamour subsided, as, preceded and announced by Du Halde, 
 Crichton approached the king, and made a graceful and profound 
 obeisance. The music also ceased, there being no longer any reason 
 for its continuance. The distant minstrel strained his neck to gaze 
 towards the royal circle, and the attendant at the refreshment-table 
 took the opportunity of pledging his companions in a brimmer of 
 Cyprus. 
 
 Meanwhile, the royal group had been increased by the arrival of 
 the lovely Marguerite de Valois, and her scarcely less lovely maids 
 of honour, La Torigni, Fran^oise de Montmorency, surnamed La 
 Belle Fosseuse, and La Rebours ; the two latter of whom have 
 been immortalised by Sterne. 
 
 The Queen Louise, with her discreet dames, had just withdrawn, 
 it having been whispered to her majesty that her august spouse had 
 betrayed symptoms of a new passion. 
 
 Henri was wholly unprepared for, and not altogether pleased 
 
74 CRicnTON. 
 
 by, the rapturous admiration excited by Cricbton ; but be was too 
 much of an adept in dissimulation to suffer any symptom of dis- 
 pleasure to escape him. On the contrary, he received the laurelled 
 scholar with his blandest and most deceptive smile, graciously 
 according him his hand ; and, apparently not content with this 
 mark of his friendsliip, instantly alter raising him from his kneeling 
 posture, and, cordially embracing him. 
 
 An irrepressible murmur ot applause following this act of gracious 
 condescension, showed that Henri had not miscalculated its effect 
 upon the enthusiastic minds of the spectators. In fact, despite his 
 malevolence, he could not be entirely insensible to the influence of 
 the scene ; and, in common Avith all present, felt and recognised 
 the majesty and might of mind, and its wondrous combination in 
 tlie present case with personal advantages. He knew he was in 
 the presence of one of the master spirits of the age; and for an 
 instant, forgetting Esclairmonde, half persuaded himself he was 
 in reality the gracious monarch he was proclaimed by his courtiers. 
 
 There was one, however, who viewed his conduct in a different 
 light: but she was mute. 
 
 " Vive le Roi ! — Vive notre bon Henriot !" cried Chicot, who 
 had withdrawn himself on Crichton's approach, addressing the 
 Viccmte do Joyeuse, who stood near him ; " The grande Hue 
 Sairt-Jacques appears to be the high road to his majesty's favour. 
 Henceforth, we shall all become scholars, and I may exchange my 
 fool's bauble for a folio, my cockscomb for the cappa rotunda, and 
 my surcoat for the prescribed iahaldi seu houssicB longce of the 
 college of Navarre. How say you? It is only a year or two since 
 our dear Henriot took to the study of Latin in the grammar of 
 Denon. It is never too late to learn ; and if the o-ood PantaOTuel 
 propounded nine thousand, seven hundred, sixty-and-four conclu- 
 sions, as his historian, Maitre Alcofribas Nasier, affirmeth, why 
 should not I offer a like number for controversy ?" 
 
 " Nay, I see no reason to the contrary," replied Joyeuse. 
 *' Thy conclusions will, in all probability, be as intelligible and 
 irrefragable as those of the sophists ; and, as extremes meet, thou 
 mayst be as near to Cricbton as the line of intersection which 
 divides the heights of folly from the depth of wisdom will permit. 
 Meantime, pay attention to thy liege and master ; for methinks 
 he is about to bestow a gift on Crichton not unworthy of himself 
 or of the acceptor." 
 
 And so it proved. Commanding Crichton to kneel, Henri 
 detached the lesser collar of the Saint Esprit from his throat, and 
 placing the glittering badge around the scholar's neck, unsheathed 
 his sword from its crimson- velvet scabbard, and touching him thrice 
 with the blade upon the shoulder, added, " In the name of God 
 and of our lord and patron. Saint Denis, we create thee, Jamea 
 Crichton, knight commander of the holy and honourable order of 
 
HENRI III. 75 
 
 the Saint Esprit ! We do not say, support its statutes and maintain 
 its splendour without spot. That were needless. The name of 
 Crichton is suflicient to preserve its glory untarnished." 
 
 " Your majesty has bestowed upon me a boon wliich I should 
 have esteemed more than adequate reward for lonj^ and zealous 
 service, or for highest desert," replied Crichton, rising. " But as 
 I can call to mind no such service, can discern no such desert, 
 I must esteem myself wholly unworthy of your distinction. This 
 consideration, however, while it annihilates all fancied claim to 
 favour, enhances my gratitude ; and we shall see whether that 
 feeling prove not a stronger stimulant than interest or ambition. 
 Devotion is all I can offer your majesty. I have a sword, and I 
 dedicate it to your cause; blood, and it shall flow in your defence; 
 life, and it shall be laid down at your bidding. Emulative of 3'our 
 own great deeds at Jarnac and Moncontour, beneath your banner, 
 sire — beneath the Orillamme oi" France, it shall be my aim to make 
 the holy and illustrious order with which j^ou have invested me, 
 the proudest guerdon of knightly enterprise." 
 
 " I accept your devotion, Chevalier Crichton." returned 
 Henri. " I rejoice in your professions, and, by Saint Michael! 
 I am as proud of my knight as my good grandsire, Francois I., was 
 of his fellowship in arms with the liLvirless and reproachless Bayard. 
 The ceremonial of your installation shall take place on Friday, witliin 
 the church of the Augustines, where you will take tlie oath of the 
 Order, and subscribe to its statutes. A fter the solemnity, you will 
 dine at the Louvre with the whole assembled fraternity of the 
 knights commanders, and in the meantime, that nothing may be 
 omitted, our treasurer will have it in charge to disburse to your 
 uses our accustomed benefice of eight hundred crowns." 
 
 " Sire, your favours overwhelm me." 
 
 " Tut!" interrupted Henri, " I would not be outdone by my 
 subjects in the expression of our admiration. Besides," he added, 
 smihng; " my conduct, after all, may not be so disinterested as at 
 first sight it would appear. Under any plea, I am glad to include 
 within my newly-instituted and cherished Order, such a name as 
 that of the Admirable Crichton — a name which reflects more lustre 
 on us, than knighthood can confer upon you. Freely as it was 
 nade, I accept your pledge. — I may, anon, take you at your word, 
 and require a service at your hands." 
 
 " Ask my life — 'tis yours, sire." 
 
 " Enough — I am Avell content." 
 
 As Henri spoke, a half-stifled sob was heara, proceeding fronf; 
 some one near him. The sound reached Crichton's ears, and smote, 
 he knew not why, like a presage of ill upon his heart. 
 
 Henri could scarcely conceal his exultation. " I will no longer 
 detain my guests," he said, '* this audience must be dull work to 
 them ; and, in sooth, I am tired by it myself. Let the ballet 
 proceed." 
 
76 CRICHTON. 
 
 Accordingly, the king's pleasure being made known, the musi- 
 cians instantly struck up a lively strain, the maskers dispersed to 
 comment upon the scene they had witnessed, and the ball recom- 
 menced with more spirit than before. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Catherine de medicis. 
 
 Voila pourquoi j'ai par quelque temps fait conscience d'ecrire cet ^chantillon de la 
 vie et des actions de Catherine de Medicis ;— pour ce que cette femme est un natif 
 tableau et exemplaire de tyrannic en ses deportemens publics, et de toutes sortes 
 de vices en ses plus prives. 
 
 Henri Etienne. Discours MerveiUeux de la Vie de Catherine de MediciJi 
 
 "Par la mort dlevi! mon cher Crichton," said Henri in a 
 languid tone, helping himself to some of the perfumed confec- 
 tionery which he carried in his escarcelle, " 1 am quite taken 
 with the brilliancy and whiteness of your collar. I thought my 
 Courtray gauderonneurs inimitable, but your artist far exceeds 
 those Flemish pretenders. I am critical in such matters, you 
 know — Heaven having endued me with a taste for costume." 
 
 " True, gossip," replied Chicot. " It is not for nothing that you 
 have acquired the titles of Gauderonneur des Collets de voire 
 Femme, et Mercier du Palais." 
 
 " Corbieu, messieurs !" continued Henri, heedless of the inter- 
 ruption, and apparently struck with a bright idea, " I abandon 
 for ever my pet project, the plat Saint Jean, and direct you hence- 
 forth to assume the collar a la Crichton !" 
 
 " Your majesty will then do manifest injustice to your own in- 
 vention," said Crichton, " by so styling my poor imitation of your 
 own surpassing original ; and I pray you not to alter the designation 
 of a vestment which appeal's to have some importance in your eyes. 
 Let it bear the name of him alone to whom the merit of the con- 
 ception is due. I can by no means consent to hold honours which 
 do not belong to me ; and no one would think for an instant of dis- 
 puting with your majesty the eminence you have so justly at- 
 tained." 
 
 "You flatter me," replied Henri, smiling; "but still I must 
 retain our opinion. And now a truce to compliment. Do not let 
 me detain you, mon cher, nor you, messeigneurs, I know you 
 love the dance. The Navarroise is just struck up. That figure 
 has always attraction for our sister Marguerite. Pray ye, solicit 
 the favour of her hand." 
 
 With a smile like a sunbeam, the royal Circe extended her hand 
 to Crichton, as he advanced towards her. That smile went like a 
 dagger to the heart of Esclairmonde. 
 
CATHERINE DE MEDICIS, 77 
 
 " An instant, madame," said Crichton. " Ere I quit liis majesty's 
 presence I have a suit to prefer." 
 
 ^' Say on," replied Henri. 
 
 " Were my intercession in your behalf needful, you should have 
 it," said Marguerite de Valois, *' but your interest with the kin^ 
 our brother is greater than my own." 
 
 ** Still let me have your voice, madame," returned Crichton, 
 " for my solicitation refers to one of your own sex. My life was 
 saved this morning by a disguised Venetian girl, and I have since 
 ascertained that her life is threatened by the traitor Kuggieri." 
 
 " Traitor !" echoed Catherine dc Mcdicis, starting to her feet, and 
 fixing a fierce glance upon Crichton — " ha ! consider well what you 
 advance, mcssire — this pertains to me — lluggieri a traitor! — to 
 whom ?" 
 
 " To his sovereign, madame — to the king, your son," answered 
 Crichton, resolutely returning Catherine's gaze. 
 
 *' By Notre Dame ! this concerns me, it would seem," said Henri. 
 " Nay frown not, madame. Since his reported medication of my 
 brother Charles's beverage, I have ever misdoubted your Astro- 
 loger ; and, to speak truth, I wonder not at Crichton's charge ; 
 for the countenance of Ruggieri carries treason in every wrinkle. 
 But I will not judge him unheard. But first let us know more ot 
 this Venetian girl. How is she threatened by Ruggieri ?'* 
 
 " She is his prisoner, sire," replied Crichton, "confined within 
 the turret, belonging to her majesty, near the Hotel de Soissons. 
 I have myself penetrated the turret, where I heard moans, and saw 
 her through the bars of her cell " 
 
 "And you dared to force your way thither!" exclaimed 
 Catherine — "by my right hand, messire, you shall repent your 
 temerity !" 
 
 " The girl risked her life for mine, madame, — my head shall be 
 the price of her deliverance." 
 
 •• I take you at your word, messire. You shall have the girl 
 if you will adventure again Avithin my tower." 
 
 " Beware, beware," whispered Marguerite de Valois, pressing 
 Crichton's hand tenderly ; "as you value my love, say no more. 
 See you not, she smiles ; one step more, and you tread upon your 
 grave." 
 
 " It matters not,"" replied Crichton, withdrawing his hand from 
 the clasp of the Queen of Navarre. " Your Majesty's threats," 
 he added, addressing Catherine de Medicis, " will hardly deter me 
 from the execution of an enterprise in which my honour is at stake." 
 
 " Ha ! braved !" cried Catherine 
 
 " No, no," said Marguerite, imploringly — " He does not brave 
 you, mother." 
 
 "I only uphold the oppressed," said Crichton. " My head be 
 the penalty of my failure." 
 
 " Be it so," answered Catherine, reseating herself. 
 
to CRICHTON. 
 
 " And €11 attendant, Chevalier Cricliton, you withdraw the charge 
 of trenson which you preferred against Ruggieri ?" said Henri. 
 
 "No, sire," replied Crichton, "I accuse Cosmo Ruggieri, Abbe 
 of Saint-Mahe, of high treason and leze-majcste, and of machina- 
 tions against the state. These charges I will substantiate against 
 him by proof unquestionable." 
 
 " By what proof?"" demanded Henri. 
 
 *' By this scroll, sire, set forth in alchemical characters ; unintel- 
 ligible it may be to your majesty, or to any one here assembled ; 
 but which my acquaintance with its cypher enables me to interpret. 
 Tliis scroll, exhibiting a scheme for the destruction of your life, 
 seized within Ruggieri's retreat, upon his own table, with the traces 
 of his own ink scarce dried upon it, furnishes proof incontrovertible 
 of a dark conspiracy against your safety, of which this accursed 
 astrologer is the chief instrument. Let his person be secured, sire; 
 and, difficult of comprehension as the mystic letters of this document 
 appear, I undertake to make them clear and evident as his guilt 
 is black and damning to the tribunal before which he shall be 
 arraigned." 
 
 Henri looked for an instant irresolutely towards his mother. 
 Ruggieri was about to cast himself at the King's feet, but at a 
 gesture from Catherine he remained stationary, regarding Crichton 
 with a scowl of bitterest animosity. "Your boasted powers of logic. 
 Chevalier Crichton," said the Queen Mother, " might have taught 
 you that from unsound premises false conclusions must come. If 
 you have no further proof against Ruggieri than that adduced from 
 this document, your charge falls to the ground." 
 
 " Not so, madame ; this cypher implicates a higher power than 
 Ruggieri." 
 
 " It does proceed from a higher source than that of Ruggieri," 
 replied Catherine. "That scroll is my contrivance." 
 
 " Yours, madame !" exclaimed Henri, in surprise. 
 
 " Question me not further, my son," returned Catherine. "' Be 
 assured that I watch over your interests with maternal solicitude ; 
 and that if I work in darkness, I have only one aim — the main- 
 tenance of your glory and power. Hereafter you shall know the 
 real purport of this scroll. Leave the cares of rule to me." 
 
 '"'• Fuero regnante, fcemhia imperuide^'^ whispered Chicot. 
 
 *' This hair-brained youth has marred one of my best-laid plans," 
 continued Catherine, scornfully ; " but I pardon his indiscretion, 
 for his zeal in your behalf, Henri. But let him use more caution 
 in future. Zeal over much becomes otticiousness, and will as such 
 be punished." 
 
 " The zeal you reprobate, madame," rciDlied Crichton, proudly, 
 " prompts me, at the peril perhaps of my life, to tell you, that even 
 you are the dupe of Ruggieri. This scroll is not what you sup- 
 pose it." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Catherine, 
 
CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. 79 
 
 " From its tenor I am satisfied it is not tlie document lie had 
 your authority to prepare." 
 
 " Now, by our Lady ! this insolence passeth all endurance," cried 
 Catherine, furiously. " Henri, your sire would have licwcd off 
 his best knight's spurs at the heel ere your mother's word had been 
 doubted!" 
 
 " Do not irritate yourself, madame," replied the king, coolly. 
 " The Chevalier Crichton's chief fault in your eyes appears to be 
 his anxiety for my safety, for which I own I find it difficult to 
 blame. With all your subtlety, you are no match for llugi^ncri. 
 And I would willingly hear my advocate out ere I relinquish an 
 investigation which appears to involve such important consequences 
 to my safety." 
 
 Catherine grew pale, but she spoke with calmness. — " Proceed, 
 sir,"" she said, addressing Crichton, " the king wishes it. I will 
 answer you." 
 
 *' To prove to you, madame," said Crichton, "how much vou 
 have been deceived, I will ask you whetlicr it was by your autho- 
 rity this image was prepared ?"" And Crichton drew forth from 
 his pourpoint a small waxen figure representing the king. 
 
 "Par Notre Dame de Bon Sccours," stammered Henri, growing 
 "white, in spite of his rouge, with choler and afl^i-ight, " an image 
 of myself — ha ! — " 
 
 " Pierced with a poignard to the heart, sire," replied Crichton 
 — " Behold where the puncture is made ! " 
 
 " I see it — I see it," ejaculated Henri. "Ave INIaria ! " 
 
 " Sire," exclaimed Ruggieri, flinging himself at the King's feet, 
 " hear me — hear me — " 
 
 "Away, infidel dog!" cried Henri, spurning Ruggieri from 
 him ; "thy touch is polkition." 
 
 Exclamations of horror burst from the group immediately around 
 the king. Swords flashed from their scabbards ; and had it not 
 been for the interference of Catherine de Medicis, to whose knees 
 the affrighted astrologer clung in mortal terror, he would have 
 been slaughtered on the spot. " Back, messeigneurs ! " exclaimed 
 Catherine, rising and spreading her arms over Ruggieri ; " strike 
 him not — he is innocent — on your allegiance I charge you, sheathe 
 your swords ! " 
 
 " Be tranquil, gentlemen," said the king, who had by this time 
 collected himself — " Par la Mort-Dieu ! I will deal with this 
 traitor myself. A waxen figure, forsooth ! Let me look at it 
 nearer. By my fiiith ! the knave has caught my lineaments far 
 better than my sculptor, Barthelemy Prieur !^a dagger in tlie 
 heart — I have felt a strange pain in my side these three days. Is 
 this accursed image the handiwork of Ruggieri ? " 
 
 "Undoubtedly, sire," replied Crichton. 
 
 " 'Tis false, sire. I had no hand in its manufacture. By my 
 salvation, I swear it," ejaculated the affrighted astrologer. 
 
80 CRICHTON. 
 
 "Tliy salvation!" echoed Chicot, Avith a scream of derision — 
 "ha! ha! thou hast long since lost all chance of salvation! Rather 
 swear by thy perdition, miscreant abbe." 
 
 " I found it within his chamber," said Crichton. " Your ma- 
 jesty will treat the superstitious device with the scorn such a futile 
 attempt against your safety merits. But this consideration will not 
 relieve Ruggieri froin the charge of treasonable practices against 
 your life. For like attempts, La Mole and Coconnas were adjudged 
 to the block." 
 
 "And on the scafiold he dies," replied the king, "if this offence 
 be proved against him. The question sliall enforce the truth. 
 After this, madame," continued Henri, addressing his mother, " I 
 think you will scarcely seek to advocate further the conduct of your 
 astrologer." 
 
 " Were I satisfied of his guilt, assuredly not, iuy son," returned 
 Catherine. " But what proof have we that the whole of this accu- 
 sation is not a contrivance of this fair-spoken Scot, to rid himself 
 of a foe, for such he confesses Ruggieri to be?" 
 
 " You speak the truth., madame," cried the astrologer, "I will 
 satisfy his majesty of my innocence — and of the seigneur Crich- 
 ton's motive for this accusation. Grant me but time." 
 
 " I have said that a higher power than that of Ruggieri was 
 implicated in this matter," returned Crichton. " Ihat power is — " 
 
 "Forbear !" cried the astrologer, " lead me to the rack; but utter 
 not that name ; you know not what you would do." 
 
 "Villain!" exclaimed Crichton; "you find I am too well 
 acquainted with your crimes. I have read the secrets of your 
 heart. I would confront you with him you have betrayed. Would 
 he were here to confound you with his presence !" 
 
 " He is here," replied a masked figure, stepping suddenly for- 
 ward. 
 
 "The mask!" exclaimed Crichton. 
 
 "As I live, the mask in person!" said Henri. "I begin to 
 have some insight into all tliis mystery." 
 
 A momentary pause succeeded, during which no one spoke. 
 The mask at length broke silence. " The charge you have brought 
 against Ruggieri, Chevalier Crichton," he said, sternly, "is false, 
 unfounded, and malicious ; and that you have made it wilfully, 
 and knowing it to be such, I will approve upon you by mortal 
 combat ; to which, as Ruggieri's voluntary champion, I here defy 
 you." 
 
 " And will you undertake the felon Ruggieri's defence? Will 
 you draw your sword in his behalf ?" asked Crichton, with a look 
 of incredulity and surprise. 
 
 "King of France," said the mask, dropping upon one knee 
 before Henri, " I beseech your majesty to grant me right of 
 combat a V outrance with all weapons, and without favour against 
 the Chevalier Crichton." 
 
/><^%. 
 
 
 I 
 
CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. 81 
 
 Henri hesitated. 
 
 *' Nay, my son," replied Catlierine, " this is my quarrel — not 
 Euggieri's — I am glad to find I have one sword ready to start 
 from its scabbard in my behalf. You cannot refuse this appeal." 
 
 *' You have our permission, then," returned Henri. 
 
 ** I here, then, repeat my defiance," said the mask, rising 
 haughtily, and hurling his glove to the ground. " I challenge you, 
 Chevalier Crlchton, to make good your accusation -with your life." 
 
 *' Enough," returned Crlchton, "' I accept the challenge, and 
 I counsel you, sir, not to throw aside your mask wlien you draw 
 your blade in a cause so iniamous. I am well content that Ruggieri's 
 fate be left to the decision of my hand. Joyeuse," he continued, 
 "may I calculate upon your services in this matter?" 
 
 " Most certainly," replied the vicomte, " but will not your 
 adversary favour us with his name or title? As a commander of 
 the Salnt-Esprlt you are aware you cannot fight with one of inferior 
 lank?" 
 
 *' If I am satisfied, Monsieur le Vicomte," replied tlie mask, 
 haughtily, " to waive that consideration, a cadet of fortune like the 
 Chevalier Crlchton will have little need to take exceptions. We 
 meet as equals only with our swords." 
 
 So saying, the mask disdainfully placed his ungloved hand upon 
 the hilt of his rapier. Crlchton regarded him fixedly for a moment. 
 
 " Sir mask," he said, at length, in a tone of cold contempt, 
 " whoever you may be, and I have no desire to publlsli your in- 
 cognito, whatever blood may flow in your veins, be it derived from 
 prince or peer, I hold it cheap as water in the unworthy cause you 
 have espoused ; and were you base-born vassal, as I believe you to 
 be honourable gentleman, and your quarrel the right, it would 
 weigh more with me than noblest lineage, or proudest blazonry. 
 Cadet of fortune I am, no doubt. Nevertheless, even the royal 
 Henri might cross swords with me without degradation. On either 
 side my ancestry is illustrious. My blood is that of the Stuart, my 
 heritage, an untarnislied name ; my portion, a stainless sword. In 
 God and Saint Andrew I place my trust !" 
 
 " Bravely spoken," cried Saint Luc. 
 
 " You are satisfied of your antagonist's rank ?" asked Joyeuse of 
 Crlchton. 
 
 " I will answer for him," said Henri. 
 
 The vicomte raised the glove, and tlirust it In his girdle. 
 
 " Whom may I have the honour of addressing as your s;cond, 
 seigneur?" asked Joyeuse, in a tone of constrained courtesy. 
 
 *' The Duke de Nevers," replied the mask, haughtily. 
 
 " Vive Dieu !" exclaimed the vicomte, " tills is better than I 
 anticipated. Monsieur le Due, I shall be delighted to confer with 
 you on this duel." 
 
 At the mention of his name, the Due de Nevers, a grave and 
 stately noblenaan, wearing the full insignia of the order of the Saint' 
 
 G 
 
82 CRicnxoN. 
 
 Esprit, stepped forward, in some astonishment, but, after having 
 conversed an instant with the mask, he advanced, and with a 
 formal salutation took Crichton's glove from the hand of the 
 vicomte. 
 
 ** Mort-Dieu! messeigneurs," said Henri, '*I had rather the 
 whole science of astrology were exterminated, together with all 
 its idolatrous professors, than that you should battle to each other 
 upon grounds so frivolous, and for a cause so imworthy of your 
 swords. However, since you will have it so, I will not oppose your 
 inclinations. Let the combat take place at noon to-morrow, within 
 the hall of arms. My pleasure, however, is that in lieu of the 
 duel with rapier and dagger, — which, remembering the end of 
 Caylus and INJaugiron, I interdict, — that you break a lance together 
 in the hsts. On the issue of the third course, let the astrologer's 
 fate depend. I will not have the life of a valiant cavalier, or of 
 one dear to me, sacrificed in this worthless dispute. Meantime, 
 Ruggieri shall be placed under the safeguard of the walls of the 
 Chatelet, to abide the issue of the encounter, and may God defend 
 the right !" 
 
 " I will answer for Rugmeri's attendance," said Catherine de 
 Medicis. " Let him be escorted to my turret. I will place my 
 own guard over him." 
 
 " As you please, madame," returned Henri, " but have a care 
 you produce him at the lists." 
 
 " Fear me not, my son." 
 
 *' And now, sir mask," said the king, turning round. " Mort- 
 Dieu, vanished ! — " 
 
 " And now for the Navarroise," said Crichton, taking the hand 
 of Marguerite de Valois. 
 
 *' I thought you had forgotten it," replied the queen, smiling ; 
 " but let us go — I am weaiied of this crowd. We shall, at 
 least, be alone in the dance." 
 
 And, all eyes following their majestic figures, they swept down 
 the saloon. 
 
 While this was passing, Catherine motioned Ruggieri to approach 
 her. The astrologer threw himself at her feet, as if imploring 
 compassion. " I would question thee ere thou depart," she said, 
 aloud, adding in a whisper, " this combat must never take place." 
 
 " It must not," returned the astrologer. 
 
 " I will find means to prevent it. Give me the phial thou hast 
 ever with thee — the Borgia tincture." 
 
 " That were too tardy, madame: — this potion you will find more 
 eflScacious. It is the same deadly mixture as that prepared, by your 
 majesty's orders, for the Admiral Coligni, which you entrusted to 
 his valet, Dominique D'Albe." 
 
 " No more — I will find a surer agent than that timid slave," said 
 Catherine, taking the phial which Ruggieri slipped into her hands ; 
 " 1 must see the mask to-night," she continued. " Give me the 
 
CATHERINE T)E MEDICIS. 8? 
 
 coy of thine inner chamber in the turret — I Avill instruct him how 
 ,0 come thither unperceived, by the subterranean passage from the 
 
 to 
 
 Hotel de Soissons.' 
 
 " The key is here, madame," replied the astrologer. 
 
 " Let Ruggieri be removed," said Catherine, aloud ; " and a 
 triple guard placed at the portal of our hotel. Suflcr none to go 
 forth, nor to enter, save at our order." 
 
 " Your hirfhness's commands shall be obeyed," said Larchant, 
 advancing towards Ruggieri, and surrounding him -with some half- 
 dozen halberdiers. 
 
 " And your devilish schemes circumvented," added Chicot, 
 gliding from the fauteuil of the queen-mother, Avhither he had 
 crc]it unperceived ; " and, now to apprise Crichton of his danger! 
 — Mort-Dieu ! — I tremble lest our Jezebel should find an oppor- 
 tunity of clfccting her accursed designs." 
 
 Full of apprehension for Crichton's safety, the jester was about 
 to Ibllow the course taken by the Scot and his illustrious partner, 
 but he found them surrounded by such a crowd of eager spectators, 
 that approach was next to impossibl*'. He was constrained, 
 therefore, to remain stationarv. Presently, a lively flourish of 
 music told that the Navarroise had commenced ; and all tlie jester 
 could discern was the tall and majestic figure of Crichton revolving 
 with that of the queen in the rapid circles of the dance. Round 
 after round they whirled — the music each instant increasing the 
 rapidity of its movements, till Chicot's brain began to spin like the 
 giddy measure he witnessed. 
 
 Suddenly, the strains ceased. " Now is my opportunity," ex- 
 claimed the jester, preparing to dart forward. 
 
 At that instant he was arrested by a voice behind him. It was 
 that of the king, with the hand of a masked maiden Avithin his own. 
 Henri stood by his side. " Follow me, compere," whispered the 
 monarcli, " I have need of thy assistance. I sliall require a mask 
 and domino, and a hat with plumes, unlike those I am accustomed 
 to wear. Follow me !" 
 
 " An instant, sire, " 
 
 " Not a second ! Keep near me ; I will not have thee quit my 
 sight. Come, demoiselle," added Henri, with a triumphant look 
 at his companion ; " you shall now be satisfied of your lover's 
 perfidy." 
 
 Chicot did not hear the words ; but he saw the lady tremble 
 violently, as the king dragged her on. 
 
 *' Malediction !" mentally he exclaimed. " Escape is now im« 
 possible ! Crichton must take his chance." 
 
 62 
 
84 cmcHTON. 
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 
 
 All ! que le temps est bien change a celuy que quand on les voyoit danser tons 
 deux en la grande salle du bal, d'une belle accordance, et de bonne volonte. Si Tun 
 avoit belle majeste, I'autre ne I'avoit pas moindre. 
 
 Brantojie. Dames lUustres, Dis. V. 
 
 Marguerite de Valois, consort of Henri of Navarre, after- 
 wards Henri IV., was now in the full eclat of her almost unrivalled 
 beauty. Smitten by her nascent charms, Ronsard proclaimed her, 
 in her fifteenth spring. La belle Cliarite Pas'ithie. Nor was the 
 appellation unmerited. Chi:^elled by the Apollonian sculptor, 
 Aglaia never rose upon the view more surpassingly lovely. Some 
 of her after-admirers distinguished her by the title of Venus 
 Urania; and we might follow in their steps, had we not been 
 forewarned that such description — high-flown as it appears — 
 was wholly inadequate to her matchless attractions. Hear what 
 the Abbe de Brantome says on the subject : — " Encore croit-on," 
 he writes, " que par I'advis de plusleurs jamais Deesse ne fut veue 
 plus belle, si bien que pour publier ses beautez, ses merites, et ses 
 vertus, il faudroit que Dieu allongeast le Monde, et haussast le ciel 
 plus qu'il n'est !" — and he concludes his panegyric by averring, 
 that by her side all the goddesses of old, and empresses, such as we 
 see them represented on the ancient medals, however pompously 
 arrayed, would appear little better than chambermaids — [quecham- 
 hrieres au prix delle!^ No wonder when her chronicler sent this 
 tloge for Marguerite's inspection, she should return it, saying, '* I 
 Tv^ould have praised you more, had you praised me less.'' 
 
 But due allowance being made for the worthy abbe's Avarmth 
 of style, which carried him a little into extremes, no doubt can be 
 exist as to Marguerite's eminent personal attractions; and that she 
 ranked as beautiful amongst the beautiful, even in the age that 
 produced Mary Stuart. 
 
 Marguerite's eyes were large and dark, liquid, impassioned, 
 voluptuous, with the fire of France, and the tenderness of Italy, 
 in their beams. An anchorite could scarce have resisted their 
 witchery. And then her features ! How shall we describe their 
 fascination? It was not their majesty — yet they were majestic as 
 those of her mother — (grace, in fact, is more majestical than ma- 
 jesty's self, and. Marguerite was eminently graceful) — it was not 
 their regularity — yet they were regular as the severest judgment 
 might exact — it was not their tint — though Marguerite's skin wa8 
 dazzlingly fair — but it Avas that expression which resides not in form, 
 but which, emanating from the soul, imparts, like the sun to the 
 landscape, light, life, and loveliness. This it was that constituted 
 the charm of Marguerite's featuine. 
 
MARGUERITE DE YALOIS. 85 
 
 The Queen of Navarre's figure was full and faultless ; or, if it had 
 a fault, it might be deemed by those who think embonpoint incompa- 
 tible with beauty, a little too redundant. But then if you complained 
 of the Hcbe-like proportion of her swelling shoulders, surely the 
 slender waist from which those shoulders sprang would content you. 
 The cestus of Venus would have spanned that waist; and did span it 
 for aught we know — Marguerite's fliscination, indeed, Avould almost 
 warrant such a conclusion. Her throat was rounded and whiter 
 than drifted snow — " Jamais n'cn fut vue," says her historian, 
 •' une si belle, ny si blanche, si pleine, ny si charnue." Her hands 
 — the true Medici's hand — (Ronsard did well to liken them to the 
 iingersofthe young Aurora — rose-dyed, dew-steeped) — were the 
 snowiest and smallest ever beheld — her feet were those of a fairy, 
 and the ankles that sustained them, fine and fairy-like as the feet. 
 
 Of her attire, which was gorgeous as her beauty, we dare scarcely 
 hazard a description. We shrink beneath the perilous weight of 
 its magniticence. Brilliants flamed like stars thick set amidst her 
 dusky tresses. Besprent with pearls, her stomacher resembled a 
 silvery coat of mail. Cloth of gold constituted her dress, the fashion 
 of which was peculiar to herself ; for it was remarked of her that 
 she never appeared in the same garb twice ; and that the costume 
 in which she was seen hist, was that which became her most. Be 
 this as it may, upon the present occasion, she had studied to please 
 — and she who pleased without study, could scarce fail to charm 
 ■vvhcn it was her aim to do so. Around her iair throat hung a 
 necklace of cameos, while in one hand tingiionnemeiit. evgantcle, as 
 Rabelais hath it, she held a kerchief fringed with golden lace, and 
 in the other a fan of no inconsiderable power of expansion. 
 
 In accomplishments. Marguerite might vie with any queen on 
 record. Gilted with the natural eloquence of her grandsire, Francis 
 the First, her own ]\Iemoivs amply testify her literary attainments 
 — while her unpremeditated reply, in elegant latlnity, to the Bishop 
 of Cracovia, may be brought in evidence of the extent of her clas- 
 sical information, proving her no unworthy descendant, as she was 
 the inheritress of the kingdom and of the name, of the amiable 
 and virtuous INIarguerite de Valois, spouse of Henri d' Albert, King 
 of Navarre, and authoress of the Ilcjitaineron, and of the Miroir 
 dune dme Peckeresse, and surnamed la Marguerite des Marguerites 
 —or pearl of pearls. Marguerite was the friend of the arts, and 
 cultivator of poesy; and if her predecessor could boast of the friend- 
 ship of Melancthon and Clement Marot, she was not less fortunate 
 in the devotion of Ronsard and Brantome, besides a host of minor 
 himinaries. But if she had many friends and panegyrists, she had 
 likewise numerous enemies and detractors ; and to discover how 
 busy scandal was with her reputation, we have only to turn to the 
 pages of the Divorce Satiriqve, published under the name and with 
 the sanction of her husband, Henri IV. 
 
 Her life, a mixture of devotion and levity, presents one of those 
 
S6 CRICHTON. 
 
 singular anomalies of which her sex have occasionally furnished 
 examples; and which, without calling her sincerity in question — 
 (for Marguerite, though profligate, Avas not a dissembler, like the 
 rest of her family) — can only be reconciled upon such grounds 
 as those on which Shelley seeks to harmonise the enormities, 
 and yet continuous prayers and prostrations, of the ruthless 
 Cenci. "Religion," he acutely remarks, " in a Catholic has no 
 connexion with any one virtue. The most atrocious villain may 
 be rigidly devout, and, without any shock to established faith, 
 confess himself to be so. Religion pervades intensely the whole 
 frame of society, and is, accordinc; to the temper of the mind which 
 it inhabits, a passion, a persuasion, an excuse, a refuge ; never a 
 check," INIarguerite, we have observed, was no hypocrite — her 
 undisguised excesses attest the very reverse. With her, religion 
 was a passion. One half of her existence was abandoned to a 
 round of indulgences — the other to exercises of devotion, or to what 
 would bear the name of devotion. She would hear three masses a 
 day — une haute, les deux mitres petites* — would communicate thrice 
 a week, and perform sundry acts of self-intlicted penance ; but this 
 inordinate zeal offered no interruption to her irregularities; on the 
 contrary, it appeared to lend piquancy to them. Satiated with 
 amusement, she retired to pray with renovated fervour; and she 
 issued from her oratory with a new appetite for sin. 
 
 With her after-sorrows we have no concern; nor with the darker 
 period of her existence, when, in the touching words of the poet- 
 ical Jesuit, Lemoine, she became — 
 
 Epouse sans epoux, et reine sans royaume ; 
 Vaine ombre du passe, grand el noble fantome. 
 
 Our business is with the brighter portion of her career — ere care 
 had stricken her, or sorrow robbed her of a charm. 
 
 Of the grace and elegance of Marguerite de Valois in the dance, 
 
 ' • 1 TT7" 11 
 
 Brantome has left us the most rapturous particulars. With lover- 
 like enthusiasm he dilates upon her majestic carriage, and inde- 
 scribable fascinations; an'' the vivid portrait he has taken of the 
 lovely queen (sketched at some such scene as that we are now 
 attempting to describe) blooms, breathes, and stands before us in 
 all its original beauty and freshness — a splendid " phantom of 
 delight," sparkling within that gallery of high-born dames and 
 gallant cavaliers which he has preserved for the gaze of the world. 
 With Crichton's supremacy in the somewhat trifling, but then 
 highly estimated art which 
 
 Teacheth lavoltas higb, and swift corantos, 
 
 with his perfect mastership of all its difficulties — (for in those days, 
 when Italy, Spain, and Germany, and almost each province of 
 France contributed their quota of figures and national peculiarities, 
 
 • pasquier- 
 
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, 87 
 
 the dance had its difficulties) with his unequalled possession of all its 
 graces, the reader, aware of the universal scope of his accomplish- 
 ments, must be already acquainted. He was accounted the most pro- 
 ficient in the dance at a court, each member of which Avould probably 
 have been considered in the same important light in any other in 
 Europe. Henri III. Avas passionately fond of the amusement, and 
 largely indulged in it. In earlier days, Catherinede iNIedicls had been 
 no less partial to the dance, and Marguerite de Valois, as wc know, 
 held it in high esteem. All the courtiers, therefore, emulous 
 of distinction in their sovereign's eyes, bestowed unremitting 
 attention upon this accompHshmcnt, and it was no sliglit merit to 
 eclipse in skill performers of such consummate ability. As in 
 the hall of arms, the arena of learning, the tourney, the chace, or 
 otlier exercises in which strength or dexterity is concerned — so in 
 the ball-room Crichton outstripped all competitors. From the 
 inimitable " constitution of his leg," it would seem, " that he was 
 born under tlie star of a galliard." Terpsichore might have pre- 
 sided at his nativity. 
 
 It was Crichton's remarkable spirit, displayed in one of the wild 
 and national dances of his own covmtry, then little known, or re- 
 garded as scnii-barbarian in the polite court of France, and perliaps 
 seen there for the first time -when he undertook it, that first at- 
 tracted the attention of the Queen of Navarre towards him, and 
 afterwards riveted her regards. With Crichton, it was indeed that 
 poetry of motion, that inspiration of look and gesture (terms idly 
 applied in these later days to the performances of the hired artist), 
 called into play by the agency of the dance, and giving to that 
 light and graceful pastime its highest and most imaginative charac- 
 ter. In him, the dance was not a medium for the display of bril- 
 liant and faultless execution of paces, and flourishing of limb. 
 His action — his impersonation, we miglit almost say, of tlic melody 
 by which his movements were guided — was fanciful, inspiriting, 
 harmonious, as the melody itself AVe question whether the 
 pyrrhic, or enoplian dance of old, or hyporchematic measure were 
 ever executed with more fervour and inspiration, or produced 
 more thrilling effects upon the beholders than Crichton's perform- 
 ances. The same ease — the same unconscious grace, which 
 accompanied his demeanour on the parade, Ibllowed him in the 
 volte, the bransle, or the pazzameno. In each, like mastery was 
 exhibited — in each were the various involutions required preserved ; 
 but, change the figure as often as he might, one expression pervaded 
 ail — in that expression, unattainable by other aspirants, resided his 
 superiority. 
 
 Whether upon the present occasion Crichton felt inspired by 
 the presence and acclamations of the vast assemblage — the gaze of 
 "which he felt was fixed upon him — or whether he was resolved 
 to show how inexhaustible were his energies, we know not; but he 
 appeared to surpass himself. Such was the springy lightness with 
 
88 CRICHTON. 
 
 whicli he bounded througli the rapid Navarroisc (a species of waUz 
 peculiar to the pleasant land from Avhich it derived its name), that 
 his foot scarcely seemed to touch tlie floor, or if it did alight upon it, it 
 was only as Antaeus acquired fresh vigour fiom his mother earth, to 
 gain elasticity from the momentary contact. A movement so rapid 
 and whirling as to have turned the heads of any loss practised than 
 the admirable Scot and his royal partner, brought the dance to a 
 Bpirited and striking conclusion. 
 
 All etiquette was forgotten. An irrepressible excitement took 
 possession of the spectators — vivats and hravos resounded on all 
 sides — the burnished roof of the grand saloon re-echoed with the 
 plaudits, and the effect produced upon the courtly throng by the 
 brilliant achievements of the distinguished couple, seemed to be 
 precisely similar to that which results from the most electrifying 
 effects of the divinities of the ballet. 
 
 Never had Marguerite appeared so animated; even her dames of 
 honour were surprised at her unusual elation. " Mon dieu ! I have 
 never seen her majesty execute that dance with so much spirit since 
 I first beheld it," said La Fosseusc, " when her partner was Henry 
 V)f Navarre, and the occasion her own espousal." 
 
 " Her majesty has all the air of a bride now," returned La 
 Rebours, pensively. This fair demoiselle, whom Marguerite in her 
 Memoirs terms " line Jille nialicieuse, qui lie rn'ainwit pas," became 
 shortly afterwards the chief favourite of Henri of Navarre. It 
 might be presentiment. 
 
 '• Poll!" replied La Torigni, "I remember the night La Fosscuse 
 speaks of well. By my reputation, I have reason to do so. Henri 
 of Navarre was a mere lump of rusty armour compared with the 
 Chevalier Crichton, who vaults in the dance as if he had stolen the 
 winfjs of Icarus. Nor does Madame Marguerite appear insensible 
 to the change. She look like a bride, ma fbi ! you ought to know 
 better La liebours. Even if she have it not, your bride is sure to 
 affect a bashfulness, and you cannot lay any excess of that sort to 
 Madame Marguerite's charge at the present moment." 
 
 "Why no," replied La Rebours, *' not exactly; but Henry 
 makes a charming partner." 
 
 " As to the spirit with which she dances," continued the sprightly 
 Torigni, "her nuptial ball was nothing to it. But what say you? 
 You recollect that night, I dare say, Abbe de Brantome ?" 
 
 " Perfectly," replied Brantome, with a significant glance, *' then 
 it was Mars, now Apollo and Venus are in conjunction." 
 
 While Marguerite de Valois remained panting within Crichton's 
 arms with one hand retained within his own, and her waist still 
 encircled by the other — with her eyes, to the neglect of all observers, 
 passionately fixed upon his gaze, a masked cavalier, enveloped in a 
 black domino, and wearing a hat surmounted by sable plumes, 
 accompanied by a dame whose features were concealed by a violet- 
 coloured vizard, took up a position opposite to them. 
 
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 89 
 
 " Do you note their looks ? Do you mark their caressiug 
 hands ?'' asked the cavaher of his conipaiiion. 
 
 " I do — I do ?" was her reply. 
 
 " Look again." 
 
 ♦' My eyes dazzle — I can see no longer. 
 
 *' You are satisfied, then ?" 
 
 *' Satisfied, oh ! my head burns — my heart throbs almost to 
 bursting — horrible emotions possess me. Heaven give me strength 
 to conquer them — prove — prove him false — prove that — and — " 
 
 " Have I not proved it? Xo matter; you shall hear him avow 
 his perfidy with his own lips, shall behold him seal it with his 
 kisses. Will that content you ?" 
 
 The maiden's reply, if her agitation permitted her to make any, 
 was unheard in the din of a fresh burst of music, which struck up 
 in answer to a wave of Du Halde's wand. The grave and some- 
 wliat grandiose character of tlic strain, announced an accompani- 
 ment to the Pavanne d'Espagne, a dance not inaptly named after 
 the strutting bird of Juno, wliicli had been recently introduced 
 from tlie court of Madrid into that of Paris, by the ambassador of 
 P]iiiip H., and which, in consequence of the preference entertained 
 for it by INIarguerite de Valois, was, notwithstanding that its 
 solemn and stately pace harmonised more completely with the 
 haughty carriage of the grandees of Spain than with the livelier 
 bearing of the French noblesse, now greatly in vogue amongst the 
 latter. 
 
 La Pavanne d'Espagne, which had some of the stilhiess with 
 more than the grace of the old niinuetde la cour, presented a strong 
 contrast to tlie national dance that preceded it. In the one all was 
 whirl, velocity, abandonment ; in the other, dignity, formality, 
 gravity, Tlie first was calculated to display the spirit and energy 
 of the performers ; the second exhibited their grace of person and 
 majesty of deportment. 
 
 As, in accordance with the haughty prelude to the figure — a 
 slow martial strain breathing of the proud minstrelsy of Old 
 Castile, interrupted at intervals by the hollow roll of the Moorish 
 atabal — he drew his lofty person to its utmost height, his eyes 
 blazing with chivalrous fire, awakened by the vaunting melody, 
 and his noble features lighted up with a kindred expression, the 
 beholder might have imagined he beheld some glorious descendant 
 of the Cid, or inheritor of tlie honours of the renowned Pelayo. 
 
 Advancing towards the Queen of Navarre with a grave and pro- 
 found salutation, he appeared to solicit the honour of her hand, to 
 which courteous request .^larguerite, wlio, for the nonce, assumed 
 all the hauteur and august coquetry of an infanta, disdainfully 
 answered by conceding him the tips of those lovely fingers which 
 Ronsard had likened to the rosy digits of the daughter of the dawn. 
 Here began that slow and stately procession from which the dance 
 
90 CEICHTON. 
 
 obtained its designation, and in wliicli its chief grace consisted. 
 Hand in hand they sailed down the saloon 
 
 " Like two companion barks on Cyndus' wave," 
 
 a prouder couple never graced those festal halls. With a pace 
 majestic as that of a king about to receive the crown of his ances- 
 try, Crichton pursued his course. Murmurs of admiration, 
 marked his steps. 
 
 Nor was jMarguerite de Valois without her share of admiration, 
 though our gallantry may be called into question, if we confess that 
 the meed of applause was chiefly bestowed on Crichton. With the 
 fair Queen of Navarre, we have observed, this dance was an espe- 
 cial favourite ; and justly so, for it was the one in which she most 
 excelled. In its slow measure the spectator had full leisure to 
 contemplate the gorgeous majesty and resplendent loveliness of her 
 person ; in its pauses, her surpassing dignity and queenly grace 
 were brought into play \ in its gayer passages — for even this grave 
 dance had a pleasant admixture of spirit (the sunshine stolen from 
 its clime) — her animation and fire were shown ; while in its 
 haughtier movements was manifested the fine disdain she knew so 
 well how to express. 
 
 " By Apollo ! " exclaimed Ronsard, as soon as the vlvats which 
 followed the conclusion of the Pavanne had died away, " the whole 
 scene we have just witnessed reminds me of one of those old and 
 golden legends wherein we read how valour is assailed by sorcery, 
 and how the good knight is for a time spell-bound by the enthral- 
 ing enchantress." 
 
 " Certes, la bella Alclna was but a prototype of Marguerite,'* 
 said Brantome. 
 
 " And Orlando of Crichton," added La Torigni. 
 
 '* Or Rinaldo," continued La Fosseuse. " He is the very mirror 
 of chivalry." 
 
 "He must have more skill than Ulysses to break the snares of 
 his Circe," whispered Ronsard. 
 
 " True," rephed Brantome, in the same tone. "" It was not with- 
 out good reason that Don Juan of Austria said to me when he first 
 beheld her peerless charms : — ' Your Queen's beauty is more divine 
 than human, but is she the more Hkely to drag men to perdition 
 than to save them ! ' " 
 
 Turning then to the maids of honour, the abbe added aloud — 
 " The mistake in all matters of enchantment appears to be, that 
 your knight errant should ever desire to burst such agreeable bon- 
 dage. To me it would be like awakening from a pleasant dream. 
 Ah .' were there some good fairy left who would tempt me — you 
 should see Avhether I would resist or seek to be disenchanted ! " 
 
 " Well, of all agreeable dances commend me to the bransle," 
 eaid La Torigni, as that figure was struck up. 
 
 " Apropos of temptation, I suppose," said Brantome ; " for you 
 
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 91 
 
 never look so captlvatinp^ as when engaged in it, Signora Torigni. 
 For my part I envy the Chevaher Crichton his success in the dance 
 more than his bonnes fortunes. I never could accomplish a pas^ 
 
 " A fau.r pas, I suppose you mean, abbe," whispered Ronsard. 
 
 " Indeed!" returned La Torigni. " suppose you take a lesson 
 now. What say you to a turn in the bransle ? That is the easiest 
 figure of all. Our royal mistress has disappeared with her all- 
 accomplished Scot, so my attendance will be dispensed with for 
 the present. We shall be free from interruption. Never mind 
 your being a little lame — the bransle is tlie best specific in the 
 world for the rheumatism. Come along. Monsieur de Ronsard, 
 your gout I know will not permit you, or I would bid you give 
 your hand to La Fosseuse ; but you can at least amuse her with a 
 mot, or perliaps improvise a sonnet for her entcrtninment, upon the 
 pretty sight we have just witnessed ; and the more you stuft" it with 
 loves and doves, kisses and blisses, gods, goddesses, and heroes, till 
 like a cup of hydromel it overflow Avith sweetness, the better she 
 will like it. Your hand, abbe." And, despite his remonstrances, 
 the laughing Florentine dragged the reluctant Brantome to the 
 bransle. 
 
 Slowly, meanwhile, glided along Crichton and the Queen of 
 Navarre. Neither spoke — neither regarded the other — the bosoms 
 of both were too full ; Marguerite's of intense passion — Cricliton's 
 of very dilFerent emotions. He felt the pressure of her arm — the 
 throbbing of her bosom, but he returned not the pressure, neither 
 did his heart respond to those ardent pulsations. A sudden 
 sadness seemed to overspread his features ; and thus in silence they 
 wandered along, inhaling new clouds of flattering incense from each 
 worshipping group they passed. 
 
 Their steps were followed at a wary distance by three other 
 masks, but this circumstance escaped their notice. Marguerite 
 thought of nothing save her lover, and Crichton's mind was other- 
 wise occupied. 
 
 Anon they entered a small antichamber opening from the vesti- 
 bule of the hall of entrance. This room, Avliich was filled with the 
 choicest exotics, and liung around with cages containing squirrels, 
 parrots, and other gaily plumagcd birds, was for the moment de- 
 serted even of the customary attendants. 
 
 Marguerite glanced cautiously around her, and seeing the room 
 vacant, applied a small golden key, wliich she took from her girdle, 
 to a concealed door, in the side wall. The valve yielded to the 
 touch — thick tapestry thnn appeared, which being raised, the pair 
 found themselves within a dimly-lighted chamber, the atmosphere 
 of which struck upon their senses, as they entered, warmly and 
 odoriferously. A prie-dieu, cushioned with velvet, stood at the 
 further end of the apartment. Before it, was placed a golden cru- 
 cifix. Over the crucifix, hung a Madonna by Raphael; the glow- 
 ing colouring of which admirable picture was scarcely discernible by 
 
92 CRICHTON. 
 
 the faint light of the two perfume-distilling lamps suspended on 
 either side. This room was the oratory of the Queen of Navarre. 
 
 Scarcely had the lovers gained this retreat when the valve was 
 opened noiselessly behind them — again as cautiously closed — and 
 three persons who had thus stealthily obtained admission to the 
 chamber, posted themselves in silence behind the tapestry, the folds 
 of which being slightly drawn aside, enabled them to discern 
 "whatever might be passing within the oratory. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ORATORY. 
 
 Mane. Tu es jeune, il y a beaucoup de belles femmes qui te regardent lort 
 doucement, je le sais. Enfin, on se lasse d'une reine comme d'une autre. 
 
 Victor Hugo. Marie Tudor. 
 
 " Crichton, mon beau chevalier," exclaimed Marguerite de 
 Valois, raising her beautil'ul head, and gazing fondly and inquiringly 
 into his face, " why are you thus silent and pre-occupicd? Amid 
 ^hc prying assemblage we have quitted — with all eyes upon us and 
 all ears eager to catch our lightest whisper — it were well to observe 
 such caution ; but here this reserve is needless. Is it that your 
 quarrel with the queen, my mother, gives you uneasiness ? I 
 cautioned you not to arouse her anger, but you were wilful, and 
 would not listen to my entreaties. Catherine de Medicis is an 
 enemy to be feared ; but you need have no fear of her. Dread not 
 her poignards — her poisons. I will watch over your safety, and 
 arrest the secret steel, should she point it at your breast. I will 
 prove an antidote against the infected chalice, should its venom touch 
 your lips. Be not afraid." 
 
 " I am not afraid. Marguerite. I will trust to my own arm for 
 deliverance from your mother's assassins, while, for preservation 
 from her poisons, I am content to rely upon forbearance from her 
 banquets." 
 
 •' That were a vain precaution. The scarf you wear, the flower 
 you smell, the very atmosphere you brcaihe, may become the agent 
 of death. Even / might be the instrument of her vengeance." 
 
 " You, Marguerite !" 
 
 " Unconsciously, but you should not fall alone. I will save you, 
 or share your fate." 
 
 " How can I repay this devotion ?" replied Crichton, in a tone 
 as if he struggled with some deep and suppressed emotion ; " I am 
 unworthy of this solicitude. Beheve me, I have no fears for my 
 own safety — no dread of poisons, be they subtle as those of Pary- 
 sades, or Locusta. I possess an assured safeguard against theii 
 baneful effects." 
 
 " So thought Bernardo Girolamo, yet he perished by the drugs 
 
THE ORATORY. 93 
 
 of Cosmo de Medicis. His was a light offence compared witli 
 yours. But a remedy does exist — a counter-poison. Henri and I, 
 alone, possess it. I have sworn to use it only for the preservation 
 of my own existence. You are my existence. You shall have the 
 phial." 
 
 " You shall not break your yow, my gracious queen. Nay, I 
 am resolute in tliis. For me, I repeat, your mother's wrath has no 
 terrors. If it be the will of Heaven that I must fall by the assassin's 
 dagger, or by more secret means, I shall not shrink from my fate, 
 but meet it as beseems a brave man. But my destiny, I feci, 
 is not yet fulfilled. Much remains to be accomplished. INIy 
 aspirations, my energies, all tend towards one great end. Fate 
 may crown me with success, or crush me in the outset of my 
 career. I can have no fore-knowledge, thougli your mother's 
 starry lore would tell you otherwise — nor, it may be, free-agency. 
 No matter ! My aim is fixed — and thus much of the future, 
 mctliinks, I can read — I shall not perish by the hand of Catherine 
 de Medicis." 
 
 " Is not your destiny accomplished, Crichton ? Are not your 
 brows bound with laurels ? Have you not this day achieved more 
 than man ever achieved before you? Axo. you not girt witli 
 hont urable kniohthood ? What more remains to be performed ?" 
 
 " Much— much— " 
 
 " Have you not my love — my devotion — a queevUs idolatry, 
 Crichton ? You are insatiate in your ambition, seigneur." 
 
 " I am insatiate, or how should my desires extend beyond this 
 moment ?" 
 
 *' Crichton, 3^ou no longer love me. Beware — beware; I love 
 you fervently, but I can hate in the same degree. I am by nature 
 jealous. Tlie Medicis'' blood within my veins, fires me to love with 
 desperation, or to resent as strongly. As yet I only love. But if 
 I discover aught to confirm my suspicions — if I find you have 
 breathed words of passion to another, my rival dies, though her 
 destruction cost me my kingdom — that whicli I hold dearer than 
 my kingdom — yourself. I am a queen, and if I am wronged, will 
 have a queen's revenge." 
 
 " Why this sudden frenzy. Marguerite? — whose rivalry do you 
 apprehend ?" 
 
 " I know not — I would not know. I look around in dread. At 
 the fete I am beset with fears — here I am assailed with new agonies. 
 My life is one long pang of jealousy. Have I a rival, Crichton? 
 — Answer me — Oh ! if I have one, let her avoid my presence." 
 
 " Calm yourself. Marguerite. — Banish these idle fancies — " 
 
 " Are they fancies, Crichton? — are they idle? IMethinks I feel 
 my rival's presence within this chamber — here — here." 
 
 " Shall I chide or smile at your folly, my queen ?" 
 
 " Again I ask you, are my suspicions groundless? Call to mind 
 your attentions to the Demoiselle Esclairmonde — were they not 
 
94 CRICHTON. 
 
 sufficient to awaken doubts as to your sincerity to me ? Oh 
 Crichton! I have been anxious — miserable since that night; but 
 I am easier now." 
 
 " Right — right, sweet Marguerite — but, as you have alluded to 
 her, may I, without reviving your apprehensions, inquire whether 
 Esclairmonde is at the fete to-night ?" 
 
 " She is," replied Marguerite, with a smile. 
 
 " I did not observe her," said Crichton, with affected indif- 
 ference. 
 
 " Yet she was at no great distance from you." 
 
 " With the queen your mother ?" 
 
 " With the king my brotlier." 
 
 *' With him !" ejaculated Crichton. 
 
 " She stood by Henri's side when he bestowed this decoration of 
 the Saint Esprit upon you." 
 
 " The violet mask!" 
 
 *' You have guessed shrewdly," 
 
 "And she remained with the king when we quitted the grand 
 saloon !" 
 
 Despite his efforts to control himself, Crichton was unable to 
 conceal his emotion. With sarcastic levity Marguerite replied to his 
 question. " Esclaii'monde, I must inform you, has, upon her present- 
 ation to-night, achieved a conquest no less important than that 
 of his majesty. He is evidently enthralled by her; and (jealousy 
 apart) it must be owned she is sufficiently charming to warrant his 
 sudden fascination. With Henri it was decidedly love at first sight, 
 wliich, ridicule it as one may, is the only true love after all. Since 
 she tendered her hand to the king, he has never quitted it; and 
 to judge appearances, he has already made no inconsiderable pro- 
 gress in her affections." 
 
 " Ha!" ejaculated Crichton. 
 
 *' She will have the post of honour at the banquet," continued 
 Marguerite, ''and will be henceforth the reigning favourite, with 
 power absolute over all the court. To speak truth, I am not sorry 
 for it, as it nips a rival in tlie bud, though the queen, my mother, 
 who, I suspect, had other intentions with the demoiselle, may not 
 entirely approve of the arrangement.^' 
 
 " Marguerite, I implore you to return to the fete." 
 
 " Crichton, you love this girl," cried Marguerite, furiously. 
 
 *' I would save her from dishonour. Hear me, Marguerite ! — 
 Amid the tainted atmosphere of this court, one pure fair flower 
 blooms and is seen for a moment — the next, a rude hand grasps it 
 — scatters its fragrance to the wind, and levels it with the weeds 
 that grow rife around it. Esclairmonde is that flower — save her 
 from the spoiler's hand. Have pity on her youth — her innocence. 
 She is unfriended— alone. Be to her a preserver, my gracious 
 queen. You know wliat Henri's love is — that he spares nought to 
 gratify his desires. Save her — save her !" 
 
THE OEATOKT. 95 
 
 " For you — never — " 
 
 •* Mistake me not — let not your jealousy confound my appre- 
 hension for her safety with other feelings, which, even if I enter- 
 tained them, would weigh little with me in comparison with my 
 anxiety for her preservation." 
 
 " I am sure you love her. Now hear me, Crichton. My husband, 
 Henri of Navarre, demands my presence. This morn a messenger 
 arrived Irom the camp at Pau. My reply depends on you. W ill 
 you form one of my escort? Say you will do so, and I will be 
 myself the bearer of my answer." 
 
 '•Marguerite, to what end should I go thither? I respect the 
 bravery of Henri of Navarre — I admire his chivalrous character, 
 his bonhommie, his frankness; but having pledged myself to your 
 royal brother's cause, how can I enlist under hostile banners ? I 
 cannot quit the court of France." 
 
 " Do not equivocate, messire, you cannot quit Esclairmonde — 
 you refuse to accompany me." 
 
 " Torture me not thus, Marguerite; for pity's sake, if you "will 
 not go with me to the Icte, suffer me to return alone." 
 
 " Go." 
 
 " INlarguerite, farewell. I quit you but for an instant." 
 
 " For ever." 
 
 " For ever ! INlarguerite, did I hear aright ?" 
 
 *' Stay !" cried the queen, after a momentary but fearful struggle 
 vith herself, " stay 1 command — entreat you — return not to the 
 fete. Have pity on me, Crichton." 
 
 *' This delay is cruel — even now I may be too late to Avarn her 
 of her danger. Henri may triumph if I tarry longer. Marguerite, 
 I take my leave." 
 
 " It is true !" exclaimed Marguerite, with a look of unutterable 
 agony, " my frightful suspicions are confirmed. You have never, 
 never loved me — ingrate — deceiver — never — never — " 
 
 Crichton Avould have spoken. Marguerite, however, impetu- 
 ously interrupted him. " Do not forswear yourself. You cannot 
 deceive me longer. Ah, Crichton ! Is it possible you can have 
 forgotten — or that you are Avilling to forget — my tenderness ? 
 Is it possible ? but I will no longer indulge this weakness — leave 
 me, — go — go !" 
 
 Crichton appeared irresolute. INlarguerite continued in the same 
 vehement tone " But dare not to approach your minion Esclair- 
 monde — dare not, as you value her life, breathe aught of love or 
 counsel Avithin her ear, for, by my hope of Heaven, if you do so, 
 she survives not the night. Now you are at liberty to depart — 
 yet stay, you shall not go hence alone. After what I have said, 
 I shall be curious to see how you will attempt to succour this dis- 
 tressed damsel." 
 
 " Mort^ Dieu! Margot, you shall not go far to witness it," 
 eaid Henri, thrusting aside the tapestry, and dragging Esclairmonde 
 
96 CKICHTON. 
 
 forward. ** Your own appointment, you perceive, has not. been 
 without witnesses." 
 
 " Henri !" ejaculated Marguerite, sternly, so soon as she recovered 
 her surprise. 
 
 " Esclairmonde !" exclaimed Crichton, recoiling in astonishment 
 and displeasure. 
 
 A momentary pause ensued, during which each party regarded 
 the other in doubt and silence. The king alone appeared easy 
 and unconcerned. He was at home in scenes like the present, 
 and hummed laughingly a light air. Crichton at length spoke. 
 
 " Is it customary, sire," he said, in a tone of irony, " with the 
 King of France to play the eaves-dropper ? I have heard of such 
 practices in Arabian story, but the incident is new to the annals of 
 your realm." 
 
 " In love and war all stratagems are fair," replied Henri, gaily, 
 ** and I have the sanction of precept and custom, if I cared for 
 eitlier, for my conduct. All that I desired was to satisfy Esclair- 
 monde of your perfidy. Yon arras afforded us an excellent screen 
 ■ — not a word of your ttte-atete, or of our sister's reproaches 
 escaped us. I thank you for your good opinion of myself ; 1 thank 
 you for your kind intentions in lespect to Esclairmonde, and 1 
 thank you still more for proving yourself so satisfactorily the 
 inconstant she conceived you to be. V^oila tout, chevalier!" 
 
 " I congratulate your majesty upon your address," returned 
 Crichton. "Few scruples appear to stand in the way of your 
 inclinations." 
 
 " Pardieu ! compere," exclaimed Chicot, who formed part of the 
 group, and who, with difficulty had hitherto restrained himself 
 from interference, " our gossip, Henri, is too great a king not to be 
 exempt from vulgar weakncsi^cs. Delicacy has never been classed 
 amongst his foibles." 
 
 *' And you, Esclairmonde," said Crichton, somewhat reproach- 
 fully, " you have condescended to this — " 
 
 " INIeanness, you would say," interrupted Marguerite, scomfullyo 
 " Give her conduct its proper term — none else will suit 
 it. My heart told me she was beside us. The instinct of hate 
 never deceives." 
 
 "You have, then, overheard our converse, demoiselle?" said 
 Crichton. 
 
 " I have," replied Esclairmonde, blushing deeply. 
 
 " And you are aware of the peril in which you stand," added 
 Crichton, looking significantly at Henri as he spoke. " One step 
 more, and all is irretrievable." 
 
 " I know it," replied Eschiirmonde, distractedly. 
 
 "Esclairmonde!" persisted Crichton, "by all that is sacred in 
 your regards, I conjure you listen to my counsels — pause — reflect — 
 or you are lost for ever." 
 
 " There is something of ih^ Huguenot about you after aiij 
 
Tlie Oratory 
 
THE ORATORY. 97 
 
 Crichton," interposed Henri. "You preach in a style worthy of 
 an Anabaptist, or Antinomian, and not hke the easy galliard I have 
 hitherto supposed you. Esclairmonde is infinitely indebted to you 
 for your agreeable diatribe; but she has had ample time for reflection 
 behind von arras, and her choice is made. The demoiselle prefers 
 a royal lover, with a heart, a court, rank, title, power, almost half a 
 throne to offer her, to one who has none of these gifts, not even an 
 undivided heart to bestow. Arc you answered, messire ?" 
 
 " Esclairmonde !" exclaimed Crichton. 
 
 " Beware, insensate madman !"' cried IMarguerite. 
 
 " Crichton !" exclaimed Esclairmonde, suddenly extricating 
 herself from the king's grasp, and throwing herself into his arms. 
 " To your protection I commit myself 
 
 " And Avith my life will I defend you," returned Crichton, 
 clasping her to his bosom. 
 
 " I tremble no longer to avow my love : I am yours for ever, 
 I will brave all. We can at least die together !" exclaimed Esclair- 
 monde. 
 
 " It were bliss to do so," answered Crichton. 
 
 " Confusion!" exclaimed the king, "Chicot, our guard." The 
 jester reluctantly quitted the oratory. 
 
 '* Be your wish gratified," exclaimed IMarguerite, in a tone of 
 bitter derision ; " perish together, since you wish it. Henri, I 
 crave a boon from you." 
 
 '* What is it, Margot ?" 
 
 '• It is this," replied Marguerite, kindling into fury as she spoke: 
 " that the work of vengeance may be intrusted to my hands ; that I, 
 who have witnessed their transports, may witness, also, their pangs. 
 I must have blood, Henri — blood — his blood ! Call in the guard. 
 Leave me alone with them — I will see it done. It Avill gladden me 
 to see a sword drawn." 
 
 " I doubt it not, ISIargot," replied Henri, who had now re- 
 sumed all the indifiercnce he had previously exhibited ; " as Du 
 Guast's epitaph can testify. I am in no mood for butchery. If I 
 should need an executioner, I will call in your aid. But the sword 
 is scarcely required on this occasion. A word will recall the Che- 
 valier Crichton to his senses." 
 
 " Be it as you please," replied Marguerite, fiercely. " My own 
 particular wrong shall not pass unavenged." 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said Henri, advancing toward the Scot, 
 and, fixing a steadfast glance upon him, addressing him at the same 
 time in a tone of high and prince-like courtesy; " need I remind 
 you of your voluntary profler of obedience to my mandates ? The 
 time is arrived when I hold it fitting to claim fulfilment of your 
 pledge." 
 
 " What do you demand, sire ?" 
 
 " Possession of this damsel." 
 
 H 
 
98 CRICHTOX. 
 
 •* Cricliton !" shrieked Esclairmonde, clinging more closely to 
 jier lover, " kill me rather than yield me to him." 
 
 " I have his word," said Kenri, coldly. 
 
 " He has ! — he has r*" exclaimed Crichton, in accents of despe- 
 ration. " Take back your title — take back your honours, sire, if 
 they are to be bought by this sacrifice. Take my life — my blood 
 — though it How drop by drop — but do not extort fulfilment of a 
 rash promise which, if you claim, you pronounce a sentence upon 
 two heads far more terrible than death !" 
 
 " I am to understand, then, messire," returned Henri, scornfully 
 regarding him ; " that your word, rashly plighted, is not held 
 binding on your supple conscience. 'Tis well. I now know how 
 to proceed." 
 
 " Would your majesty have me break these clinging arms, and 
 hurl her I love senseless at your feet ? Call your guards, sire, and 
 let them unloose her clasp, i Avill not oppose your mandate." 
 
 " 'Twere better to do so," said Marguerite, " or I will stab the 
 minion in his arms." 
 
 "Peace," cried Henri, " she relents even now." 
 
 " Crichton, your word is past," said Esclairmonde, " you cannot 
 protect me." 
 
 *' My arm is paralysed," replied her lover, in a tone of anguish. 
 
 " When that vow was uttered," continued Esclairmonde, with 
 dreadful calmness ; " I shuddered for its consequences. Nor was I 
 deceived. Who would place his dagger in the assassin's hand, and 
 hope for mercy ? He to whom you pledged your knightly word 
 exacts its fulfilment — and I know he is inexorable. Obedience is all 
 that remains : and that you may, without remorse, obey him, I will 
 voluntarily surrender myself Think of me no more — you must 
 not think of me, Crichton — and, by the love you have professed 
 for me, I beseech you not to attempt my rescue." 
 
 " Did I not say she relented," exclaimed Henri, triumphantly 
 taking her hand. " As to you, Chevalier Crichton, I am really 
 sorry for your disappointment ; but I trust the order you are 
 graced with will, in some degree, content you for the loss of your 
 mistress." 
 
 " Well has it been said — place no faith in princes!" exclaimed 
 Crichton, tearing the jewelled badge of the Saint Esprit from his 
 neck, and trampling it beneath his feet, " their gifts, like that of 
 Nessus, are bestowed only to destroy. Perish these accursed chains 
 that fetter my soul's freedom, and with them perish all sense of 
 obhgation." 
 
 *' Grand merci!" rejoined Henri, coldly, " my favours must be 
 of little worth if they can be thus readily set aside, but I shall 
 take no offence at your want of temper, chevalier. A little re- 
 fl iction will make you calmer. You Scots are apt to be hot- 
 h "uded, I have heard, and I now experience the truth of the 
 
THE ORATORY. 99 
 
 assertion. I make all excuses for you. Your situation is mortifying, 
 but give yourself no further uneasiness, I will answer for the demoi- 
 selle's safety. Allons ! To the banquet." 
 
 So saying, he applied a silver whistle to his lips. At the 
 call, the valve was suddenly thrown open, the tapestry drawn 
 aside, and through the door appeared the anti-chamber full of 
 lights, with a file of valets and halberdiers arranged on either side 
 of the entrance. At the same moment Chicot entered the oratory. 
 A peculiar smile played on Henri's features. 
 
 '* For what do we tarry ?" he asked, cjlancing exultinijly at 
 L-nchton. 
 
 " For my guidance, I conclude," replied Chicot, stepping 
 forward ; " nothing but Folly will serve to direct your majesty's 
 course." 
 
 *' Mediant," exclaimed Henri. And passing Esclairmonde's arm 
 Avithin his own, he quitted the apartment. 
 
 Crichton stood for some moments like one suddenly stunned, 
 with his face buried in his hands. He was aroused by a light touch 
 upon the shoulder. 
 
 " Marguerite," he exclaimed, returning the gaze of the Queen 
 of Navarre, Avitli a terrible look, " why do you remain here? Is 
 not your vengeance comj^lete r You have sacrificed virtue, pure 
 affection, at the shrine of depravity — are you not content ? Do 
 you remain to taunt me, or do you pant for my blood ? Take this 
 dagger and plunge it into my heart." 
 
 " No, Crichton," returned Marguerite, " I will have nobler- 
 vengeance. I will liberate this maiden from her thraldom." 
 
 " Amazement." 
 
 " I will free her from Henri's snares. But if I do this, you 
 must swear by the Virgin who regards us," pointing to the 
 Madonna, " never more to regard her as a lover." 
 
 Scarcely were the words uttered, than Chicot appeared. 
 
 " His majesty commands your instant presence at the banquet," 
 he said, almost breathless Avith haste. 
 
 " Hence !" exclaimed Marguerite. 
 
 " Her majesty, the queen-mother — "" added the jester, in an 
 under-tone. 
 
 And as he spoke, Catherine de Medicis abruptly entered the 
 oratory. 
 
 *' Daughter," said Catherine, " I have sought you throughout 
 the grand saloon. Why do I find you here, and thus attended?" 
 
 *' Madame," interposed Marguerite. 
 
 " I would speak with you alone — dismiss this gentleman,** 
 continued Catherine, glancing haughtily at Crichton. 
 
 "Leave us. Chevalier Crichton," said Marguerite, and she 
 added, in a lower tone, " remember what I have said." 
 
 Crichton had scarcely gained the antichamber when he per- 
 ceived Chicot. A few hasty words passed between them. 
 
 H a 
 
100 CRICHTON. 
 
 " And tlioii apprehendest the abduction of the Gelosa ?" said 
 Crichton. " The guard report, thou sayest, that Ruggieri's tower 
 has been invested by an armed band requiring her deliverance 
 to them ? Difficulties multiply — no matter, I would be equal to 
 any emergency. Where is the mask ?" 
 
 " As well might you pick out a domino in carnival time as 
 discern him amidst yon crowd of revellers. No one noted his 
 approach, nor did any one, that I can learn, witness his departure. 
 For my part," added Chicot, pointing downwards, " I think he 
 disappeared as another black gentleman is said to be in the habit of 
 taking liis departure. Were I you, gossip, I would have my sword 
 blessed by some holy priest ere I ventured to engage Avith him on 
 the morrow, or carry a scapulary, an Agnus Dei, or other sacred 
 relic beneath my pourpoint." 
 
 "^ Pshaw!' exclaimed Crichton. "He is a mere mortal foe. 
 But hence, good gossip — to the banquet hall — account for my 
 absence in the best way thou canst to his majesty. I will be there 
 anon." 
 
 " Make yourself easy on that score, gossip; I will divert his in- 
 quiries — but when you do appear at the banquet, bear in mind what 
 I said respecting Catherine's kind intentions towards you." 
 
 "I shall not fail to do so, and in the meantime am greatly in- 
 debted to thy zeal." 
 
 And with this he quitted the antichamber. 
 
 Chicot looked after him an instant, and shook his head. "Sang 
 de cabres !" he muttered, " it has turned out precisely as I antici- 
 pated. No good ever comes of making love to two women at the 
 same time, especially when one of them has the fortune to be a 
 queen. But, not content with this, tliis galliard, forsooth, must 
 saddle himself with a third. I wish him well of it! But if he 
 get clear of all these scrapes, and escape from the poisoned 
 bowl of Queen Catherine, he will richly deserve his title of the 
 Admirable Crichton, Corbleu ! I have never seen such a picture 
 of jealous rage as our own Queen of Navarre has just exhibited 
 since I beheld the Sieur la Mole devour the plumes of his hat for 
 very fury, and Clermont D' Amboise break a bottle of ink upon his 
 mistress's eyebrow with which she had indited a billet to a more 
 favoured lover. After all, her jealousy is absurd. She has already 
 had lovers enough to content an Isabel de Baviere, or a Marguerite 
 de Bourgogne. What says our clironicle ?" And Chicot hummed 
 the following ditty ; — 
 
 i 
 
THE ORATORY. 101 
 
 Jilargucn'te.* 
 L 
 
 Marguerite, with early wiles — 
 
 Marguerite 
 On light Charitis and D'Antragnes smiles— f 
 
 M argot, Marguerite. 
 Older grown, she favours then, 
 Smooth Martigues,* and bluff' Turenne. 
 
 The latter but a foolish /jar^, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite en bat.\ 
 But no more these galliards please, 
 
 Marguerite. 
 Softly sues the gallant Guise, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite. 
 Guise succeeds, like God of war, 
 Valiant Henri of Navarre ; 
 
 Better stop, than further go, 
 Margot, Marguerite en haut. 
 
 II. 
 
 Loudly next bewails La Mole,0 
 
 Marguerite, 
 On the block his head must roll, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite. 
 Soon consoles herself again, 
 W ith Brautome, 15ussi,"|[ and Mayenne,** 
 
 Boon companions gros el gras, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite, en bas. 
 Who shall next your shrine adore. 
 
 Marguerite? 
 You liave but one lover more, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite ! 
 Cricliton comes — \.\\e prcux, the wise. 
 You may well your conquest prize ; 
 
 Beyond him you cannot go, 
 
 Margot, Marguerite en haut. 
 
 Chanting these libellous strains as lie went, Chicot slowly sought 
 the banquet-hall. 
 
 Scarcely another moment elapsed when Catherine de Medicis, 
 and Marguerite, issued from the oratory. The features of the 
 latter were pale as death, and their expression was utterly unlike 
 that which they habitually Avore. Catherine was unmoved, majes- 
 tical, terrible. " Must it indeed be so, mother?" asked Marguerite, 
 in a broken voice. 
 
 * A catalogue of Jrarguerite's various amourettes will be found in the Divorce 
 Satirique, published under the auspices of her consort, HenrilV. More than hal^ 
 however, are, most probably, scandal. 
 
 t Marguerite was then of the tender age of eleven. 
 
 X Colonel-General of the French infantry. Brantome has written his ihge. 
 
 § This refrain is attributed to the IJuchesse de Guise. 
 
 II The Sieur La IMole, surnamed '• /-e Baladin de la Cour ;" beheaded by Charles 
 IX., it is said, from jealousy. Mollis Vita, Mollior interitus. 
 
 ^ Bussi D'Amboisc. — Formos Veneris furiosi Mortis alumnus. 
 
 ** The Due de Mayenne, brother to the Due de Guise. 
 
102 CKICHTON. 
 
 " It must" replied Catherine, witli deep emphasis. " Henri 
 "will, no doubt, as he is wont, carouse till dawn. By that time the 
 draught will have done its duty. But if he survive, Maurevert 
 and his band will await Crichton's coming forth from the Louvre, 
 and will complete the work. Shrink not from thy task. Our 
 honour is at stake." 
 
 They then separated. Catherine rejoined her attendants, 
 and took the direction of the hall of entrance. Marguerite almost 
 mechanically returned to the grand saloon. 
 
 As Catherine pursued her course, she perceived a masked figure 
 single itself from the crowd at her approach. Its stature was that 
 of Crichton's challenger — the plumes were his — the sable cloak in 
 all respects the same. Catherine paused. The figure paused like- 
 wise. " 'Tis he !" thought the queen-mother, and she despatched 
 one of her pages to bid him to her presence. 
 
 " What would your highness with me?" said the mask, advancing 
 with a profound and courtly salutation, and addressing Catherine 
 in Italian. 
 
 " I was not deceived," thought Catherine; " it is the voice. I 
 have sent for you, signore," she added, in a bland and gracious 
 tone, and addressing the mask in the same language, " in order 
 to express to you ere I quit the fete, the lively sense of gratitude 
 I entertain for the important service you have rendered me. 
 Assure yourself, your zeal shall not be overlooked. I am neither 
 unwilling, as Heaven be praised, I am not wholly unable to 
 requite it." 
 
 " Were your majesty aware of the nature of the service I have 
 rendered you, you would scarcely deem it deserving of your thanks," 
 replied the mask. 
 
 " Do you rate your adversary thus lightly then?" asked Cathe- 
 rine, complaisantly. 
 
 " I hold myself assured of conquest," returned the mask. 
 
 " The migniard Crichton dupes himself with like belief," rejoined 
 the queen-mother, " but not with like assurance of success. The 
 God of battles, I trust, will grant you victory, and enable you to 
 overthrow your enemy." 
 
 *' Amen !" returned the mask. 
 
 " Fall back, messieurs," said Catherine, to her attendants, " I 
 have much of moment to communicate to you," she added, 
 assuming a more confidential manner. 
 
 " Touching the Gelosa r" inquired the mask, anxiously — " speak 
 madame." 
 
 " Not here," replied Catherine, " non puo bene deliberar chinon 
 e libero — I am about to return to my palace. You must not 
 accompany me, nor quit the revel at the same time. Too much 
 caution cannot be observed. The palaces of princes are all eyes — 
 all ears." 
 
 *' Your glove, madame," interrupted the mask, stooping to raise 
 
THE ORATOKT. 103 
 
 the richly embroidered gauntlet, which Catherine let fall us if by 
 accident. 
 
 "Keep it," replied the queen-mother, smiling, " within its fold? 
 you will find a key, the iise of which I am about to explain to you. 
 That glove, I may premise, displayed upon your cap, will obtair 
 you admission to the Hotel de Soissons. Exchange no words with 
 the attendants, but pursue your way alone. Enter the gallery. 
 Within a niche you will observe three statues. The central fi2;ure, 
 that of my father, Lorenzo de jMcdicis, Duke of Urbino, revolves 
 upon a pivot. Touch the spear within its grasp, and you will per- 
 ceive a subterranean passage leading to my turret of observation. 
 Apply the key I have given you to a door which will impede 
 your further progress, and you avIU find yourself in Ruggieri's 
 laboratory. An hour hence I shall expect you there." 
 
 " And the Gclosa?" 
 
 " She is in my charge. Cricliton's idle boast I see weighs with 
 you — but trust me neither force nor stratagem will gain him 
 entrance to that tower. Santa Maria ! so easy do I feel on the 
 score that I will srivc him the ifiii if he finds means of reaching 
 her prison. 
 
 " Yet he has adventured there already, madame," returned the 
 mask, eagerly, " and should he take you at your word, would you 
 part with your charge upon such easy terms ?" 
 
 Catherine smiled. 
 
 " Your majesty would almost appear to favour your enemy's 
 designs,'' continued the mask, jestingly. 
 
 •' Non per amor ma per vendetta," returned Catherine, in the 
 same tone. " Crichton will never more venture there, signore, 
 unless," added she, smiling, " he come thither under ^jour guidance. 
 You shall know more of his destiny an hour hence. Meanwhile, I 
 must conclude our interview — we are observed. The banquet, 
 too, awaits you. One caution on parting I bequeath you. His 
 majesty hold his revels late, and it is often his custom to detain his 
 guests. Should he issue his commands to close the doors of the 
 oval chamber, you will find beneath tlie suit of hangings which 
 represents Diana and her nymplis, a sliding door." 
 
 " I understand, your majesty." 
 
 " A rlvedersi, signore." 
 
 *' I kiss your majesty's hand," replied the mask, with a profound 
 obeisance. The figure then mingled with a group of revellers who 
 approached them, and who were joyously hurrying towards the 
 grand hall of banquet ; while Catherine, ushered forth by a con- 
 course of pages and lacqueys, entered her sumptuous litter and 
 departed from the Louvre. 
 
104 CRICHTOH. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BEZOAR. 
 
 Maffio. Oh! Ton con te des choses bien ^tranges de ces soupers de Borgia! r 
 
 Ascanio. Ce sont des debauches effren^es, asaissonn^-es d'enipoisonnemens. 
 
 ViCTOK Hugo. Lucrece Borgia. 
 
 The thick folds of the magnificent crimson hangings, heightened 
 •with arabesques and fleur-de-lys of gold, that served in lieu of 
 folding doors to separate the chief banquetlng-hall from the grand 
 saloon, had meanwhile, at a signal from the major-domo, been 
 drawn aside; and the long and glittering board, arrayed with all 
 the costly appliances of the royal feast, was suddenly exhibited to 
 the view of the assemblage. 
 
 The coup d'cfiil was charming. Far as the eye could reach ap- 
 peared walls festooned with flowers fragrant and blooming as if the 
 season had been latest spring. Mirrors, wreathed with Proven9al 
 roses, reflected the lustre of a thousand flambeaux, and multiplied 
 the gleaming plate and star-like crystal with which the board was 
 loaded. But the object on which the eye chiefly rested — not 
 merely because it was the principal feature of attraction to the 
 expectant guests, but by reason of its proud pre-eminence — was the 
 table itself. It was a fitting place for the celebration of the com- 
 bined rites of Ceres and Bacchus. Reared upon a massive platform 
 — six feet at least above the floor — approached by a triple flight of 
 steps — covered both as to its mimic stairs and summit, with cloths 
 of dazzling whiteness {fort mignonnement daniasse^ as we learn from 
 a contemporary authority) — this mighty table, extending the whole 
 length of the vast hall, looked like a mountain of snow, or, perhaps, 
 to vary the simile, like a prodigious frosted cake baked in the oven 
 of Gargantua by the skilful Fouaciers de Lerne, the culminating 
 • point of which cake or mountain was formed by a cloudy repre- 
 sentation of Olympus, in which Henri and his favourites figured 
 as presiding divinities. 
 
 A nearer approach to the table showed that the surface of its 
 damask covering v/as, according to the lashion of the court, ribbed 
 in fanciful and waving plaits, so as to resemble the current of a 
 stream crisped by a passing breeze. This stream bore upon its 
 ' bosom a proud array of gold and silver vases, crystal goblets, and 
 cups, all of rarest workmanship, and many wrought by the hand 
 of the matchless Benvenuto Cellini during his visit to Francis 
 the First at Fontainebleau. In the words of brave Ben Jonson, 
 there were 
 
 Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded 
 
 With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies. 
 
 Nothin"- could exceed the magnificence of the repast. 
 
TDE BEZOAR. 105 
 
 The material of the feast was worthy of Apiclus or Lucullus. 
 Every dainty that the most consummate epicure of the time could 
 require, was to be met with in profusion. Fancy ran riot amid the 
 countless covers, and the endless varieties of piquant viands dis- 
 played on their removal. Pyramids of confectionery — piles of 
 choicest fruit appeared at intervals ; while, scented from afar like 
 the aromatic groves of Lebanon, appeared antique-shaped urns 
 steaming with the rich produce of tlie grapes of Crete, Cyprus, or 
 Syracuse ; wines being then, for the most part, drunk hot and 
 spiced, or, as we shoukl say, mulled. Here and there might be 
 seen the ushers and chamberlains with their lleur-de-lys-covered 
 wands of oflice — butlers with embossed flagons and salvers — troops 
 of valets and pages — and, distributed at certain stations of the 
 board, servitors, each with a napkin on his shoulder, and an 
 enormous knife in hand, seemingly impatient for the signal of 
 attack. 
 
 Amid loud fanfares of trumpets, blended with the gentler notes 
 of the hautboy and viol, Henri, accompanied by Esclairmondc, 
 led the way to the banquet. The monarch, however, tarried 
 not within the hall we have described. His orgies were held 
 in a smaller and more retired salle-a-mangcr, opening from 
 the grand festal chamber, and separated from it by an arched 
 door-way; within which Avas placed a line of high gilded railing, 
 an unequivocal evidence of exclusiveness on the part of the 
 monarch, that called forth much sarcastic remark from his sub- 
 jects ; and, amongst other pasquinades, gave rise to the following 
 quatrain aifixed to the olfensive partition — 
 
 Puisqd'Henri, roi des Fran9ois, 
 KVii aimc que qtiatre on trois, 
 II taut que ses trois on qiiatre 
 Aillciit ses enncmis combattre. 
 
 To the king's private table his favourites only, and thcit favourites, 
 were admitted. Ushers of the least were stationed at the door with 
 a hst of the guests expected. No others were allowed to pass. 
 Towards this room Henri now repaired, followed by a jocund troop 
 of dames and revellers. He was in the most buoyant spirits, and 
 descanted with the greatest animation on all that passed. A sin- 
 
 fular change seemed to have been wrought in the demeanour of 
 Isclairmonde. She replied to Henri's lover-like assiduities with a 
 > vivacity bordering almost upon levity, which a nicer observer might 
 have imputed to distraction and despair, but from which Henri 
 drew a lavourable augury. Her cheek was Hushed, and her eye 
 shone with unwonted lustre. Once only, as she entered the oval 
 chamber, of which some rumours had reached even her ears, she 
 started, and a slight shiver ran through her frame. But she in- 
 stantly recovered herself 
 
 The oval chamber was a retreat fitted for a voluptuary. Heavy 
 
106 CRICIITON'. 
 
 with perfume, the atmosphere struck upon the senses of the guests 
 as they entered, producing a soft inebriating effect. Pages, equipped 
 in fanciful attire, sustained torches, the odorous wax of which shed 
 a warm hght upon the richly painted arras, charged with the glow- 
 ing legends of antiquity ; in which in the guise of nymphs and 
 goddesses of old, were represented the chief beauties who had 
 bloomed within the atmosphere of the Louvre. In this suit of 
 tapestry the lovely Diane de Poitiers was represented, as the god- 
 dess her namesake, disporting after the chase : — in that, Venus 
 Anadyomene sparkled from the sea-foam in the shape and linea- 
 ments of La Belle Feronniere — the gallant Francis, blowing his 
 wreathed conch as an attendant Triton, Here the fascinating Fran- 
 goise de Foix bloomed as Egeria, Francis appearing again as Numa 
 — there the captivating Marie Touchet, whose anagram " Je 
 charme tout," so well described her, was given as Callirhoe ; her 
 lover, Charles IX., being drawn as the hunter Eurlmedon ; while 
 in the last compartment figured our bon Henri, who was repre- 
 sented, strangely enough, as Ulysses surrendering himself to the 
 blandishments of Circe, the features of the enchantress bearing evi- 
 dent resemblance to those of his first mistress, la belle Chateauneuf. 
 Upon the frescoed ceiling were depicted the silver fountains and 
 dragon-watched fruit of the Hesperidcs. 
 
 The supper to which Henri sat down was the triumph of his chef 
 — the inimitable Bcrini — a cook, Avhose name deserves to be asso- 
 ciated with that of Luther, Calvin, Knox, and other great reformers 
 of the sixteenth century, the spirit of which stirring age he repre- 
 sents as strongly as the great Ude stamped the character of our own 
 time. The signal revolution which took place in the science of 
 cookery at this remarkable epoch may be clearly traced to the 
 unwearying efforts of Berini. Comprehending the growing wants 
 of his species, with the prescience of a true philosopher, he saw 
 that a change must be effected, and he accomplished it. He over- 
 threw many old and tough abuses ; and if he increased the demand 
 for good cheer, he did not diminish the supply. To him, amongst 
 a thousand other gifts, mankind is indebted for the fricandeau, a 
 discovery which his biographer judiciously remarks, required une 
 gvande force de tcte! He projected sauces so savoury that terms 
 of alchemy were required to express their stimulative effects upon 
 the system. These sauces, however, we regret to say, modern 
 science has pronounced injurious. And, finally, he trampled down 
 popular prejudices which still remained in favour of the finger, 
 and introduced tlie fork. 
 
 The only stain attached to the memory of Berini is, that he was 
 an instrument of Catherine de Medicis — in other words, that he 
 occasionally mingled other compounds with his sauces than Avere 
 prescribed by the recipes of his art. For the sake of so great a 
 professor of so great a science we hope this is mere scandal. No 
 wonder, with dishes so exquisite placed before him, that a great 
 
THE BEZOAR. 107 
 
 man sliould occasionally die from indigestion ; but surely the cook 
 is not to be blamed for an occurrence so very natural. Rather let 
 us look, to the goblet as the origin of ill. We have mentioned that 
 the wines were at this time generally drunk mulled and spiced — 
 a practice which, wliile it presented abundant facilities for the 
 insidious admixture of poisonous drugs, completely baffled all pre- 
 cautions of the drinker. Leaning, therefore, to the side of genius, 
 we are inclined to discredit this charge against the gifted Berini, 
 and impute the criminality of these transactions to Catherine's 
 cup-bearer, whose name is deservedly buried in oblivion. 
 
 The repast, we have said, was Berini's triumph. In conception 
 — in execution it was periect. The eye of the gourmand Marquis 
 de Villequier glistened as he gazed upon the dainty fare. Ronsard 
 insinuated that with such ragouts before him, it was easy to under- 
 stand how Vitellius and Heliogabalus exhausted an empire ; a 
 remark which, luckily for the poet, did not reach the cars of the 
 king. Henri, in fact, was too much engrossed by Esclairmonde 
 to attend to the pleasantries of his guests. So soon as his majesty 
 and the demoiselle, whom he honoured with his smiles, were 
 served, the monarch graciously expressed his pleasure that the 
 company, whom etiqutte had hitherto kept upon their feet, should 
 be seated. 
 
 The carouse now began in earnest. The guests were few in 
 number, consisting merely of some half dozen of Henri's favourites, 
 the dames of honour of Marguerite de Valois, one or two of 
 Catherine's prettiest attendants, the Abbe de Brant6me, and, as we 
 have just hinted, the poet Ronsard. The latter, who was by no 
 means inditlerent to good cheer, as his gout testified, Avas trans- 
 ported into a seventh heaven of delight with a ragout of ortolans 
 with which the considerate Abbe had loaded his plate; Villequier 
 had fallen to with equal industry and zeal. Esclairmonde was 
 placed at his majesty's right hand. On his left, two scats remained 
 unoccupied. 
 
 Behind the royal chair stood Chicot, and next to him another 
 buffoon, whom we have hitherto omitted to notice: a strange mali- 
 cious wight, yclept Slblot, infinitely more disliked by the courtiers 
 than his companion In lolly, Chicot, inasmuch as his jests were 
 chiefly practical ones, and his liits for the most part made with his 
 marotte. In face — in figure, and in agility, he resembled an ape. 
 His head Avas clotlied with sleek, sable, shining liair, like the skin 
 upon a mole's back. His nature was so snarling and malignant 
 that, when seized, he would snap and bite like an enraged cur, 
 and even severest chastisement was found InefFectual to change 
 or restrain his mischievous propensities. Slblot's costume only 
 differed from that of his brother buffoon in its hues. Embroidered 
 on the front and at the back with the royal blazon, the surcoat 
 was of sable, slashed with white: his marotte was of ebony. Slblot 
 was a favourite with Henri, who being a genuine lover of mischief, 
 
108 CRICHTON. 
 
 was diverted with his monkey tricks; an-.l he would often laugh 
 till the tears ran down his checks at the confusion created by the 
 buffoon amongst the grave ambassadors, the scarlet-capped eccle- 
 siastics, and stately cavaUers, who attended his audiences. 
 
 JMeanwhile, the feast proceeded. Henri continued unremitting 
 in his attentions to Esclairmonde, who, though she could not be 
 prevailed upon by all his importunities to partake of the banquet, 
 maintained an exterior of perfect calmness and composure. Be- 
 neath that mask of smiles Avas hidden acute suffering. The de- 
 moiselle was, however, an object of envy to the other dames of the 
 party, who attributed her indifference to the monarch's gallant 
 regard to mere coquetry. 
 
 '• By my faith, monsieur le vicomte," said the gay Torignl to 
 Joyeuse, who was placed on her right hand, " the Demoiselle Esclair- 
 monde is a finished coquette. Her coyness is admirably assumed. 
 Where she can have acquired such arts I cannot imagine. But 
 some people are born with a genius for their vocation — and conquest 
 is hers, 1 suppose. She would have the king believe she has a 
 perfect horror of his freedoms. 1 need not tell you that I have 
 had some experience in the art of entanglement, and I declare upon 
 my reputation, I could not have played the part better myself." 
 
 "1 am quite sure of it," replied Joyeuse, "because I think his 
 majesty's attentions are not so perfectly to her taste as you might 
 conceive they would be to yours. Her thoughts, I suspect, are 
 wandering upon Crichton." 
 
 " Pi h I " rejoined La Torigni, " no such thing. She is not such 
 a simpleton. Why should her love for Crichton prevent her be- 
 stowing an occasional smile elsewhere ? He is not a mirror of 
 constancy, whatever he may be of chivalry ; nor wholly insensible, 
 as you know, to the supreme attractions of our royal mistress. The 
 thing is quite natural." 
 
 " Your reasoning is perfectly convincing, demoiselle." 
 
 " The Chevalier Crichton is very well in his way — but a klngi 
 you know — " 
 
 " Is irresistible. You have found it so, demoiselle.'* 
 
 "You are impertinent, monsieur le vicomte.'' 
 
 " A la bonne hcure. You have prodigiously fine eyes, demoi- 
 selle. Italy boasts the darkest eyes in the world — Florence the 
 darkest eyes of Italy, and the lovely Torigni the darkest eyes of 
 Florence. I pledge them in a bumper of Cyprus." 
 
 " Your France is a nation of courtiers," replied La Torigni, 
 laughing, " and the Vicomte de Joyeuse the most finished courtier 
 in France. I return your pledge, monseigneur. After all," conti- 
 nued the lively Florentine, in a tone half jest, half earnest, " I 
 should not object to be in Esclairmonde's situation." 
 
 *' Indeed! " replied Chicot, who happened to overhear this latter 
 exclamation. 
 
 At this moment Marsuerite de Valois entered the room. Some 
 
THE BEZOAB. 109 
 
 slight ceremony was observed at her appearance, but tlie fair queen 
 took her place at Henri's left hand, without attracting his notice. 
 
 " Your majesty suffers from some sudden indisposition," observed 
 Brantome, in a tone of sympathy, remarking the haggard looks of 
 the queen. 
 
 "No, no," returned Marguerite, " I am perfectly well, Abbe." 
 
 " Will your highness allow ine to recommend this couUs d la 
 car</iwaZ to your attention," said Villcquier. " Konsard pronounces 
 it thoroughly Catholic, and I were an heretic to doubt him. Suffer 
 me, madame — " 
 
 Marguerite declined the tempting offer of the marquis, and 
 suffered her eyes to stray over the company. Crichton was not 
 amongst the number. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, he is not here !" exclaimed the queen, giving 
 involuntary utterance to her thoughts, and sighing deeply as if 
 some heavy oppression were removed from her bosom. 
 
 " Who is not here?" asked Henri, turning quickly round at the 
 exclamation. 
 
 Chicot stepped suddenly forward. 
 
 " Methinks," said he, famiharly placing his hand upon the klnp- 's 
 shoulder, " methinks, iiotre onclc, you are in need of some excite- 
 ment, you lack somewhat to give a fillip to your spirits— a spice to 
 your wine — what can we direct you to? Shall it be a song? I 
 have a rare charivari on Madame the Duchess d'Usez's third 
 espousals — a Pantagruelian legend on Pope Joan's confinement 
 before the conclave — or a ditty on the devil's exploit, at Pope 
 Fcagueland — at your service. Or if you like not this, shall I bid 
 my gossip Siblot smack the rosy lips of all the coyest dames at 
 table, beginning with the Demoiselle Torlgni, and afterwards cut a 
 lavolta on the board itself to the blithe accompaniment of rin^-Inn' 
 glass? Or if a gayer mood possess you, will it please you to com- 
 mand Maitre Samson to bring forth that quaint drinking cup, the 
 merry devices and playful grotesques whereof are wont to excite so 
 much amusement, and such mirthful exclamations from our dames 
 of honour — and which cup, moreover, is so much to the fancy of 
 our grave and discreet gossip, Pierre de Bourdeille?" 
 
 " Cousin of Brantome," said Henri, smiling ; " our jester llbeb 
 you." 
 
 " Nay," replied Brantome, laughing, " I care not to own that 
 the goblet of which the knave speaks has afforded me amusement, 
 though I must, on the score of propriety, venture to oppose its 
 introduction upon the present occasion."" 
 
 " Propriety !" echoed Chicot, derisively ; " propriety sounds 
 well in the hps of the Abbe de Brant6me ; ha, ha, which of the 
 three shall it be, gossip — the song, the kiss, or the cup ?" 
 
 " A song," returned Henri, " and see that thy strains lack not 
 spice, gossip, or look for no hippocras from the hands of Samson aa 
 thy meed." 
 
no CRICriTON'. 
 
 " Spice!" repeated Chicot, witli a droll grimace; "my strains 
 shall smack of pimento itself." And assuming the air of an impro 
 visatore, the jester delivered himself as follows: — 
 
 ^ll=^p(cc, or n ^pic£ of mi 
 
 The people endure all, 
 The men-at-arms cure all, 
 The favourites sway all. 
 Their reverences flay all. 
 The citizens pay all. 
 Our good king affirms all, 
 The senate continr.s all. 
 The chancellor seals all, 
 Queen Catherine conceals all, 
 Queen Louise instructs all, 
 Queen Margoi conducts all, 
 The Leaguers contrive all, 
 The Jacobins shrive all, 
 The Lutherans doubt all, 
 The Zuiugliaiis scout all. 
 The Jesuits flout all. 
 The Sorbonnists rout all. 
 Brother Henri believes all, 
 Pierre de Gondy receives all,* 
 , ' Ruggieri defiles all, 
 
 INlad Siblot reviles all, 
 
 The bilboquets please all, 
 
 The sarbacanes tease all, 
 
 The Due de Guise tries all. 
 
 Rare Crichton outvies all. 
 
 Abbe Brantome retails all, 
 
 Bussy D'Amboise assails all, /■■ 
 
 Old Ronsard recants all, •., 
 
 Young Jodelle enchants all, -t 
 
 Fat Villequier crams all. 
 
 His Holiness damns all, 
 
 Esclairmonde bright outshines all. 
 
 And wisely declines all, 
 
 La Rebours will bless all, 
 
 La Fosseuse confess all. 
 
 La Guyol will fly all, 
 
 Torigni deny all, 
 
 John Calvin misguide all, 
 
 Wise Chicot deride all, 
 
 Spanish Philip-j- may crave all. 
 
 The Bcarnaist brave all, 
 
 The Devil will have all I 
 
 " Gramercy," said Henri, as Chicot came to a pause ; more, it 
 would appear, from want of breath, than from lack of material for 
 the continuance of his strains; " thou hast fairly earned thy hip- 
 
 " Bishop of Paris, 
 t Philip IL % llcnri of Navarre, afterwards Henri IV. 
 
THE BEZOAB. 
 
 pocras, were it only for the justice rendered to tlie lovely Esclair- 
 monde, who, as thou truly sayest, outshines alL But, by our lady, 
 messeigneurs, we must not neglect the service of Bacchus for tliat 
 of Apollo. Samson, ihy choicest Cyprus — a health !" 
 
 Every glass was raised — every eye bent upon the khiir. " To 
 her," continued Henri, draining liis goblet ; " who in licr own 
 person combines all the perfections of iier sex — la belle Esclair- 
 monde !" 
 
 " La belle Esclairmondc !" echoed each guest, enthusiastically 
 clasliing his glass against tliat of his neighbour. 
 
 Amidst the confusion incident to this ceremony, Crichton entered 
 the room. Eor an instant his gaze rested upon that of the demoi- 
 selle; and, momentary as was that glance, a world of sad and pas- 
 sionate emotion was conveyed to the hearts of both. He then took 
 the seat which had been reserved for him, by the side of ]Marrrue- 
 lite de Valois. Conversation in the meantime proceeded. " I 
 would finn inquire from your majesty," 5{iid Brantome, in a tone 
 which showed that the Cyprus he had quailed had mt been v/ithout 
 its effect iipon liis brain ; " Avhat are the precise notions \v]iich you 
 entertain respecting beauty. For, with a due appreciation of 
 diaphonous orbs and hyacintliine tresses, 1 cannot entirely," and 
 here the abbe cast a look, inebriate as that of Septimius on Acme, 
 upon Marguerite de Valois ; " I cannot, I say, admit their supre- 
 macy over eyes black as night, and locks dark as the raven's wini/. 
 Both styles have merit, no doubt; but surely your majesty cannot 
 be aware of the ' thirty requisites,' or you would never assign the 
 palm of perfect beauty to a blonde." 
 
 "Thou art a heretic, cousin," replied Henri, laughing; "but 
 we plead ignorance as to thy ^ thirty requisites.' Let us hear 
 them; we shall then see how far our own opinions correspond with 
 thine." 
 
 " I had them from a fair dona of Toledo," replied Brantome, 
 *' a city where there are many gracious dames; and thoui2:h I have 
 never, except in one instance," he added, again glancing at i\lar- 
 guerite ; " met with a combination of such excellencies, vet I 
 may fairly enough assert that I have encountered them all in 
 detail." 
 
 " The requisites, cousin !" said Henri, impatiently. 
 
 " Your majesty will excuse my rhymes," replied the abbe, with 
 becoming modesty; " I am no poet, like Ronsard. Thus they 
 run — 
 
 '^ijt ^ijixt^ Requisites.* 
 
 Thirty points ot perfection each judge understands, 
 Tlie Standard of feminine beauty demands, 
 
 •These verses are imitated from a trentawe of beaux Sis, recorded in the Dame» 
 Galantes. Brantome gives them in Spanisli prose from the hps of a tair To- 
 ledan, mentioned in the te.xt ; they are, however, to be met witli in an old French 
 
Ii2 CRICHTON. 
 
 Three white : — and, witlioiil further prehide, we know 
 That the skin, hands, and teeth, should he pearly as snow. 
 Three hlack : — and our standard departure forbids 
 From dark eyes, darksome tresses, and darkly-fringed lids. 
 Three red: — and liie lover of comeliness seeks 
 For the hue of the rose in the lips, nails, and cheeks. 
 Three long : — and of tiiis you, no doubt, are aware ? 
 Long the body should be, long the hands, long the hair. 
 Three short : — and herein nicest beauty appears — 
 Feet short as a fairy's, short teeth, and short ears. 
 Three large ; — and remember this rule as to size, 
 Embraces the shoulders, the forehead, the eyes. 
 Three narrow : — a maxim to every man's taste — 
 Circumference small in moutli, ancle, and waist. 
 Three round : — and in this I see infinite charms — 
 Kounded fulness apparent in leg, hip, and arms. 
 Three fine : — and can aught the enchantment eclipse, 
 Of fine tapering fingers, fine hair, and fine lips? 
 Three small ; — and my thirty essentials are told — 
 Small head, nose, and bosom, compact in its mould. 
 Now the dame who comprises attractions like tliese, 
 Will require not the cestus of Venus to please, 
 While he who has met with an union so rare. 
 Has had better luck than has fall'n to my share." 
 
 Brantome's song was exceedingly well received, inasmuch as it 
 enabled tlie gallants to offer various compliments, direct and indi- 
 rect, to the fascinations of their fair companions. Neither did Henri 
 fail to take advantage of the plea it afforded him, of scrutinising 
 the charms of Esclairmonde, as the particular features of beauty- 
 passed in review before the abbe. 
 
 Crichton looked sternly on. His blood boiled within his veins, 
 and his indignation might have carried him to some extremities, 
 if Esclairmonde's imploring looks had not restrained him. 
 
 Amidst the laughter and acclamations of the guests Marguerlte*s 
 voice shouted hollowly in his ear, " I have watched your glances, 
 Crichton. In your kindling eyes I read your thoughts. Your 
 minion is wholly in Henri's power. You cannot deliver her." 
 
 Crichton 's reply was interrupted by a wild scream of laughter 
 proceeding from the buffoon Siblot, who, regardless of the confusion 
 he created, or the risk which the costly vessels on the board might 
 incur from his antics, suddenly whirled himself into the very 
 centre of the table, taking up a position on the cover of a vase 
 supported on three feet, upon the knob of which he described 
 various rapid circles with the dexterity and ease of the most perfect 
 posture-master. No sooner was this feat accompHshed amidst the 
 laughter and astonishment of the guests, than bounding — without 
 injury to the economy of the banquet — over enamelled dish and 
 plate, with a velocity which left little time for consideration, he 
 
 work anterior to our chronicler, entitled De la Lounage et BeauU des Dames. The 
 «ame maxims have been turned into Latin hexameters by Francois Corniger (an 
 ominous name for a writer on such a subject), and into Italian verse \>j Vinoentio 
 Calmeta. 
 
THE BEZOAR. 1 ] 3 
 
 brushed with his shaggy beard the fair cheeks of every dame he 
 passed, not excepting even iMarguerite de Valois, and only paused 
 when he arrived at last before Esclairmonde. He then chuckled 
 and nodded at Henri, as if consulting his inclinations, as to whether 
 the demoiselle should be submitted to the same disgusting ordeal 
 as the others, but receiving no signs of encouragement from the 
 monarch, he retreated to his vase, where, like a priestess of Apollo 
 upon her tripod, after a brief prelude of gyrations, with a rapidity of 
 utterance almost as bewildering as his antic mazes, and an infini- 
 tude of grotesque gesticulations, he burst into the following amphi- 
 gouri : — 
 
 ^5e ^nnptatfon of ^t. antljonn.* 
 I. 
 
 Saint Anthony weary 
 
 Of hermit cell dreary. 
 
 Of penance, and [iraying. 
 
 Of orison saying, 
 
 Of mortiiicaiion. 
 
 And flesliiy vexation. 
 
 By good sprites forsaken. 
 
 By sin overtaken. 
 
 On flinty coiicli lying. 
 
 For deatii, like Job, crying. 
 
 Was suddenly shrouded 
 
 By thick mists, that clouded 
 
 All olijects with vapour. 
 
 And through them, like taper, 
 
 A single star shimniered, 
 
 And with blue flame glimmered. 
 
 IT. 
 
 What spell then was muttered 
 
 IMay never be uttered ; 
 
 Saint Anthony prayed not — 
 
 Saint Anthony stayed not — 
 
 But down — down descending 
 
 Through caverns unending, 
 
 Whose labyrinths travel 
 
 May never unravel. 
 
 By thundering torrent, 
 
 By toppling crag horrent. 
 
 All perils unheeding, 
 
 As levin swift speeding, • 
 
 Habakkuk out-vying 
 
 On seraph-wing flying. 
 
 Was borne on tieud's pinion 
 
 To Hell's dark dominion. 
 
 * See Callot's magnificent piece of diablerie, upon thig subject, and the less ex- 
 travagant, but not less admirable picture of Teniers ; and what will well bear 
 comparison with either, Retzch's illustration of the Walpurgis Night Ecvels of 
 Goethe. 
 
 I 
 
114 craCHTON. 
 
 III. 
 
 Oh ! rare is the revelry 
 Of Tartarus' devihy ! 
 Above him — around him— 
 On all sides surround him— 
 With wildest grimaces 
 Fantastical faces ! 
 Here huge bats are twittering. 
 Strange winged mice flittering, 
 Great horned owls hooting, 
 Pale hissing stars shooting, 
 Red fire-drakes careering 
 With harpies are fleering. 
 Shapes wliizzing and whirling, 
 Weird Sabbath-dance twirling. 
 Round bearded goat scowling, 
 Their wild refrain howling — 
 " "aif grtmonos 'airgrcmos 
 ^ucgcntc nuc hti Untmos"* 
 
 IV. 
 
 Here Lemures, Lares, 
 
 Trolls, foliots, fairies, 
 Nj'mph, gnome, salamander, 
 In frolic groups wander. 
 Fearful sliapes there are rising, 
 Of aspect surprising, 
 Phantasmata Stygia, 
 Spectra, Prodigia! 
 Of aspect horrific, 
 Of gesture terrific. 
 \Vhere cauldrons are seething, 
 Lithe serpents are wreathing, 
 And wizards are gloating 
 On pois'nous scum floating. 
 While skull and bone placed out 
 In circle are traced out. 
 Here witches air-gliding 
 On broomsticks are riding. 
 A hag a fawn chases, 
 A nun Pan embraces. 
 Here mimic fights waging, 
 Hell's warriors are raging ; 
 Each legion commanding 
 A chief is seen standing. 
 Beelzebub gleaming. 
 Like Gentile god seeming-- 
 Proud Belial advancing, 
 With awful ire glancing ; 
 Asmodeus the cunning, 
 Abaddon, light shunning, 
 
 • According to Delancre, the usual refrain of the Sorcerers' Sabbath-song. See 
 his " Description of the Inconstancy of Evil Angels and Demons." " Delancre's 
 Description of the Witches' Sabbath," observes the amusing author of Monsieur 
 Oujie, " is so very ample and particular, that I don't believe I should be better 
 in armed concerning it if I had been there myself." 
 
THE BE20AR. 115 
 
 Dark Moloch deceiving, 
 His subtle webs weaving ; 
 Meressin air-dvvellin<:. 
 Red Mammon gold-telling, 
 
 V. 
 
 The Fiend, then dissembling, 
 Addressed the saint trembling ; 
 *' These are thine if down bowing. 
 Unto me thy soul vowing, 
 Thy worship thou'lt offer." 
 
 " Back, Tempter, thy proff 
 With scorn is rejected." 
 
 ' Unto me thou'rt subjected, 
 For thy doubts, by the Eternal J* 
 Laughed the Spirit Infernal. 
 
 At his word then compelling, 
 Forth rushed from iier dwelling 
 A sluipe so inviting, 
 Enticing, delighting. 
 With lips of such witchery, 
 Tongue of such treachery, 
 (That sin-hiring smile is 
 The torment of Lilis,) 
 Like Eve in her Eden, 
 Our father misleading. 
 With locks so wide-flowing, 
 Limbs so bright-glowing, 
 That Hell hath bewrayed him, 
 If Heaven do not aid him. 
 
 " Her charms are surrendered 
 If worship is rendered." 
 
 " Sathan, get thee behind nie I 
 My sins no more blind me — ■ 
 By Jesu's temptation ! 
 By lost man's salvation ! 
 Be this vision banished ! * 
 
 And straight Hell evanished. 
 
 And suiting the action to the phrase, at the conclusion of bis 
 son^, Siblot threw himself head over heels from the table, an^ 
 Vanished likewise. Acclamations were heard on all sides. What- 
 ever the festive assemblage might think of the jester's song, they 
 Trere infinitely amused by his summerset. By this time, too, the 
 generous wines, with which each goblet was constantly replenished, 
 had begun to do their duty. Every eye grew bright — every 
 tongue loud, and a greater degree of licence reigned throughout. 
 Crichton alone partook not of the festivities. 
 
 " Par la Mort-Dieu, mon brave Ecossois," said Henri, with a 
 
 I 2 
 
116 CRICHTON. 
 
 smiie of exultation, " you are not in your usual spirits to-niglit. 
 You have not a smile lor a lair dame — you do but indifferent jus- 
 tice to Berini's supper (and Villequier, or your brother bard, Ron- 
 sard, will tell you it has merit) — and you wholly neglect Samson's 
 goblets, though this Syracuse hath potency enough to turn the blood 
 to flame. Try it, I pray of you. Your thoughtful visage assorts 
 ill with our sprightly associates. Let your spirits sparkle like our 
 wine, like the eyes around us, and drown your despondency in the 
 flowing bowl." 
 
 "An excellent proposal, sire," said D'Epernon ; "Crichton is 
 liither in love oi jealous — perhaps both — he eats not, talks not, 
 drinks not, signs infallible." 
 
 "Pshaw," replied Joyeuse, *'he has lost a favouiite hawk, or a 
 horse, or a thousand pistoles at play, or — " 
 
 " He thinks of his duel with the mask," added Saint Luc ; " he 
 has confessed and received the Holy Communion, and the priest 
 has enjoined a night of fasting and repentance." 
 
 " He has lost a supper, then, which, like lirantume's beauty, has 
 every requisite," said Villequier, with his mouth full of marchpane. 
 " I pity him." 
 
 " Or his appetite," said Ronsard, " without which even a supper 
 at the Louvre would be thrown away.'^ 
 
 " Or a rliyme," said Torigni ; *' a loss to make a bard look sad, 
 eh, jMonsieur Ronsard ?" 
 
 "Or a sarbacane," said Chicot. 
 
 " Or a bibloquet," said Siblot. 
 
 *' Or a toy of less moment than either," hiccuped Brantome — 
 "a mistress." 
 
 Here a loud laugh was raised. " A truce to raillery," said 
 Henri, laughing with the rest; " Crichton is a little out of sorts — 
 fatigued, naturally enough, with his disputation of the morning, 
 and his exertions in the ball-room — however, I trust he has not 
 entirely lost his voice, but that he will favour us with one of those 
 exquisite chansons-a-boire, with which of old he was wont to 
 enliven our waissalry." 
 
 " A song 1 — a song !" echoed all the symposiacs, laughing louder 
 than ever. 
 
 " ]My strains will scarcely harmonise with your revel, sire," 
 replied Crichton, gloomily; "my livelier thoughts desert me." 
 
 " No matter," replied Henri, " be they sad as those of Erebus— 
 *twill give a sharper edge to our festivity." 
 
 In a voice then which, as he proceeded, gradually hushed all dis- 
 position to mirth, Crichton sang ? — 
 
 I 
 
THE BEZOAR. 117 
 
 ^fte Sl^rcc Orgies. 
 I. 
 
 In banquet hall, beside tlie king, 
 Sat proud Thyestes revellinj;. 
 The festal board was covered fair, 
 The festal meats were rich and rarei 
 Tliye^les ate full daintily, 
 Thycbtes laughed full lustily ; 
 But soon his haughty visage fell — 
 A dish was brought — and, wo to tell I 
 A gory head that charger bore! 
 An infant's look the features wore ! 
 Thyestes shrieked — Mng Atreus smiled- 
 The father had devoured his child! 
 
 Fill the gohlel—fill it high— 
 
 To Thi/cstes tcvelry. 
 
 Of blood-red wines the brighlcst choose, 
 
 '1 'he gloi ious g rape of Syracuse t 
 
 11. 
 
 For a victory obtained 
 O'er the savage Getae chained, 
 In his grand Caesarean hall 
 Doniitian holds high festival. 
 To a soleiiiii feast besought 
 Thither are the senate broiight. 
 As he joins the stately ctowd, 
 Smiles each pleased patrician proud. 
 One by one each guest is led: 
 Where Domiiian's feast is spread ; 
 Each, iccoiling, stares aghast 
 At the ominous repast : 
 Kound abacus of blackest shade 
 Black triclinia are laid. 
 Sable vases de-ck the board 
 With dark-coloured viands stored ; 
 Shaped like tombs, on either hand. 
 Rows of dusky pillars stand ; 
 O'er each i)iliar in a litie. 
 Pale sepulciiral lychni shine ; 
 Cinerary urns are seen, 
 Carved each with a name, I ween. 
 By the sickly radiance shown 
 Every guest may read his own ! 
 Forth then issue swarthy slaves. 
 Each a torch and dagger waves ; 
 Some like Manes liabited. 
 Figures ghastly as the dead ! 
 Some as l.emures attired, 
 Larvae some, with vengeance fired. 
 See the throat of every guest 
 By a murderous gripe is prest ! 
 While the wretch, with horror dumb^ 
 Thinks his latest hour is come! 
 Loud then laugh'd Domitian, 
 Thus his solemn feast befran. 
 
118 CRICHTON. 
 
 Fill the gohlct—fdl it high-' 
 To Domitimi's revelry. 
 Let our glowhig gob/< t be, 
 Crown'd with nine of Sicily 
 
 III. 
 
 Borgia* holds a papal ftte, 
 And Zizime, ■with heart elate, 
 Witli ills chiefs barbarian 
 Seeks tlie gorgeous Vatican. 
 Tis a wondrous sight to see 
 In Christian hall that company I, 
 But the Otliman warriors soon 
 Scout the precepts of Mahoun. 
 Wiues of Sicily and Spain, 
 Joyously those paynims drain; 
 Wiiile Borgia's words their laughter stlFj 
 " Bibiimis Papiililcr .'" 
 At a signal — pages three, 
 With gold goblets, bend the knee • 
 
 Borgia pours the purple stream | 
 
 Till beads upon its surface gleam. \ 
 
 I " Do us a reason, noble guest," 
 
 Thus Zizime, the pontift' pressed : 
 ** By our triple-crown there lies, 
 In that wine-cup Paradise!' 
 High Zizime the goblet raised — 
 Loud Zizime the Cyprus praised— 
 To each guest in order slow, 
 Next tlie felon pages go. 
 Each in turn the Cyprus quaffs. 
 Like Zizime, each wildly laughs,-^ 
 Laughter horrible and strange! 
 Quick ensues, a fearful change. 
 Stifled soon is every cry, 
 Azrael is standing by. 
 Glared Zizime — but spake no more: 
 Borgia's fatal feast was o'er! 
 
 Fill the goblet— fill it high — • 
 
 With the wines of Italy ; 
 
 Borgia's ivorcls our laughter stir— 
 
 Bibimus Panaliter ! 
 
 " Bibimus regalitcr!" exclaimed Henri, as Cricliton's song con- 
 cluded. " Dicu Merci ! wc have no dread of sucli a consummation 
 at our orgies. A reveller might well stand in awe of the bowl, if 
 after his nocturnal banquet he should awaken in Elysium. You 
 must now perforce pledge us, mon Ecossois, or we shall think you 
 hold our leasts in the same horror as those of Borgia — a cup of 
 Cyprus — you will not refuse us ?" 
 
 * Pope Alexander VI., of the family of Lenzuoli, but who assumed previous to 
 his pontificate the name of Borgia, a name rendered infamous, as well by his 
 own crimes and vices, as by those of the monster offspring Caesar and Lucrezia, 
 whom he had by the courtezan Vanozza, according to Gordon, instigated to the 
 murder of Zizime or Djem, son of Mahomet II., by a reward of 300,000 ducats, 
 promised by Bajazet, brother to the ill-fated Othman Prince. 
 
THE JESTER. 119 
 
 " He will not refuse we," said Marguerite de Valois. '* Give me 
 a goblet, Loisel." 
 
 A page approached with a flagon of gold. " Fill for mc," said 
 the Queen. And the wine was poured out. " To our reunion," 
 "whispered she, drinking. '^ La forza d' amore non risguarda al 
 delitto." 
 
 " I pledge you, madame," answered Crichton, raising the goblet. 
 
 Marguerite's eyes were fixed upon him. All trace of colour had 
 deserted her cheeks. " How is this?" exclaimed Crichton, laying 
 down the goblet untasted. " Poison ! Do Borgia's drugs find 
 entrance here?" 
 
 " Poison !" echoed all, rising in astonishment and dismay. 
 
 " Ay — poison !" reiterated Crichton. " See the ruddy bezoar 
 in this ring has become pale as opal. This wine is poisoned." 
 
 " / have drunk of it," said Marguerite, with a withering look. 
 ** Your own faint heart misgives you." 
 
 '* Some poisons have their antidotes, madame," observed 
 Crichton, sternly. " The knife of Parysades was anointed on one 
 side only." 
 
 " Bring Venetian glass," cried Henri, " that will remove or 
 con firm your suspicions. Sangdicu ! Chevalier Crichton, if thi.<' 
 interruption be groundless, you sliall bitterly repent it." 
 
 " Give me the Venice glass," said Crichton, " I will abide the 
 issue." 
 
 A glass was brought, bell-shaped, light, clear as crystal. Crich- 
 ton took it and poured within it the contents of his own goblet. 
 
 For a second no change was observed. The wine then suddenly 
 hissed and foamed. The glass shivered into a thousand pieces. 
 
 All eyes were now turned on the Queen of Navarre. She had 
 fainted. 
 
 "Let her be cared for," said Henri, affecting indifference, 
 ** Miron must attend her — he will understand — " and the king 
 whispered a few words to Du Halde. "Fair dames, and you, 
 messeigneurs," added he to the guests, who looked on aghast, "this 
 incident must not interrupt our revel. Samson, we appoint thee^ 
 our taster — wine — wine." 
 
 CHAPTER VHL 
 
 THE JESTER. 
 
 Le Marchant. Vous estes, ce croy-jc, Ic joyeulx du Roy ? 
 
 Panurge. Voire. 
 
 Le Marchant. Fourchez la. 
 
 Rabelais. Pantagruel. Liv. IV. Ch. VJ. 
 
 The effect of the occurrence, just detailed, was visible in the 
 altered complexion and demeanour of the dames, and it required 
 ail the gallantry and attention of the cavaliers, in any degree, to 
 
120 CRICIITON. 
 
 restore their gaiety. Conversation, liowever, soon became more free 
 
 and discursive. Each galliard boasted, in his turn, of his prowess 
 in arms — of his dexterity in horsemanship — of his unerring aim 
 with the pistol — of his flital stroke with the poignard — of his abihty 
 with the rapier — in short, of his perfect acquaintance with the 
 whole " theoric and practic" of the duello — a subject which neces- 
 sarily involved the discussion of Crichton's approaching combat. 
 The discourse began to take a very animated turn, many specula- 
 tions being hazarded as to the rank and name of the challenger, a 
 subject upon which the dames appeared singularly curious, and 
 even Esclairmonde manifested anxiety; when, as if brought thither 
 to gratify their wishes, the sable mask suddenly presented himself 
 at the entrance of the banquet-chamber. 
 
 Henri instantly commanded admittance to be given to him, and 
 the mask was, in consequence, ushered to the seat which Mar- 
 guerite de Valois had abandoned, thus bringing him into immediate 
 contact with his adversary Crichton. Their situation appeared to 
 be agreeable to neither party; but it was now too late to remedy 
 the mistake, and Henri laughed it off in the best way he could. 
 
 " Nothing can be further from my intention than to interrupt 
 the harmony of your majesty's table," said the mask, in reply to 
 the king's apology, " and, I trust, I shall not incur the censure of 
 your brave gentlemen, by offering a second offence to one, whom 
 I have already defied to the combat. I am no faith-breaker, sire. 
 But I crave your pardon for trespassing on your patience. I came 
 not hither to join yoxir revels. 
 
 "'Fore Heaven, then, mon cousin!" replied Henri, regarding 
 the mask with some astonishment, " if not to festivity, unto what 
 hath your visit relation ?" 
 
 The mask looked with some anxiety towards Crichton. The 
 Scot instantly rose. 
 
 " I am in the way, sire," he said. " Your counsels will be more 
 securely carried on if I quit the banquet." 
 
 *' No, by our Lady !" cried Henri, rising, and with great courtesy 
 motioning Crichton to resume his seat — " this shall never be. 
 If any one must suffer inconvenience, it shall be ourself I am at 
 your service, mon cousin, though 1 must need say you have chosen 
 a strange season for an audience." 
 
 So saying, the monarch reluctantly led the way towards an 
 embrasure — 
 
 " Chicot," he said, in an under tone as he passed, " do thou 
 assume our seat for the nonce? We must not attend to the in- 
 terests of others to the entire exclusion of our own — and hark 
 ye, gossip, as you value your ears, suffer not a syllable to pass 
 between Crichton and our mignonne, Esclairmonde — ^you under- 
 stand." 
 
 With a mock dignity, infinitely diverting to the guests, Cliicot 
 instantly installed himself in Henri s vacant chair ; his first pro- 
 
THE JESTER. 121 
 
 ceeding being to plnce his marotte between the lovers, which he 
 laughing termed " his ambasfudor's sword, whereby they were to 
 understand they couia only speak by proxy." His next, was to 
 call upon Ronsard for a song. The bard would willingly have 
 declined the jester's invitation, but the voices of the revellers were 
 against him, and he wab necessitated to promise compliance. 
 
 " Fool," muttered Crichton, sternly, who had already taken 
 advantage of the king's absence to hazard a Avhisper to Esclair- 
 monde — " wilt thou mar this opportunity afforded us, by chance, 
 of devising means for her escape ? Why should she not fly now ? 
 I alone will Avitlu'aid every attempt at pursuit." 
 
 "And who will then be the fool?" replied Chicot. "No — no, 
 my addle pate hath hatched a scheme worth two of yours. Set 
 yourself at ease. Borrow a sarbacane from the Vicomte de 
 Joyeuse ; and meanwhile suffer the ' law-giver of Parnassus,' 
 as his flatterers term him, to proceed with his roundelay. 
 See you not that it diverts the attention of the guests, and 
 leaves us at liberty. — Fool, quotha ! — recant that appellation, 
 brother." 
 
 " I cry thee mercy, gossip," rejoined Crichton, " thou art, 
 indeed, a very miracle of wit. Joyeuse," he added, addressing the 
 vicomte; "1 prithee, lend me thy sarbacane." 
 
 " To despatch a billet to some distant fair one in the outei 
 banquet-hall; ah! galliard ; here 'tis." And with this, Joyeuse 
 sent his page with the long tube of chased silver resting by his side, 
 to the Scot. 
 
 Ronsard, meanwhile, commenced his song, which, if it should not 
 be found to equal in merit some better known lyrics of the bard, 
 *' qui, en frangois, parla Grec et Latin,'' its failure must be attri- 
 buted to the supper he had eaten, and the Cyprus he had swallowed 
 (both, according to his former patron, Charles IX., unfavourable to 
 the jMuse), and, iu some degree, to the quaintness of the measure he 
 selected. 
 
 ®5e UcgtniJ of Fallic?. 
 I. 
 
 Tis night! — forth Valdez, in dissuisc. 
 
 Hies; 
 And his visage, as lie gUdes, 
 
 Hides. 
 Goes he to yon church to pray? 
 
 Eh! 
 No, that fane a secret path 
 
 Hath, 
 Leading to a neighbouring pile's 
 
 Aisles ; 
 V/here nuns lurk — by priests cajoled 
 
 Old. 
 Thither doth Don Valdez go— 
 
 Oh! 
 Thither vestal lips to taste 
 
 Haste. 
 
122 CRICHTON. 
 
 II. 
 'Neatli yon arch, wliv doth he stand? 
 
 And 
 Haps it that he lingers now 
 
 How? 
 Suddenly cowl'd priests appear 
 
 Here. 
 Vo'ces chant a dirge-like dim 
 
 Hymn : 
 Mutes a sable coffin drear 
 
 Rear ; 
 Where a monument doth lie 
 
 High 
 'Scutcheons nroud Deatli's dark parade 
 
 Aid. 
 Valdez sees, with fresh alarms, 
 
 Arms, 
 Which his own — (gules cross and star !) 
 
 Are. 
 
 III. 
 An hour — and vet he hath not gone 
 
 ■ On; 
 Neither can he strength to speak 
 
 Eke. 
 Hark ! he cries, in fear and doubt, 
 Out, 
 ' " Whom inter ve in that tomb? 
 
 ' \\hom?— " 
 " Valdez! — He'll be, ere twelve hours, 
 
 Ours!— 
 Wait we for his funeral 
 All!" 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Monk! thou brincst, if this be truth, 
 
 Rudi !" 
 Valdez his own fite with dread 
 
 Read. 
 Question none he uttered more; — 
 
 O'er 
 'Twas; and lie doth peacefully 
 
 Lie 
 In the tomb he saw, tlius crazed. 
 
 Raised. 
 
 H'lsnfaog. 
 
 Jltcmcnto J^ori— Life's a stale 
 Tale. 
 
 During the progress of Ronsard's song, the jester had not remained 
 idle. Amidst a thousand absurd grimaces, intended for the amuse- 
 ment of the company, he had contrived in various ways to make 
 known the nature of his intentions respecting Esclairmonde's 
 dehverance_ to Crichton, and the latter, struck, ^apparently, with 
 the feasibility of his plan, traced a hurried line on the paper- 
 
TUE JE^TEK. 123 
 
 covering of a dragee, wliich he took from a pile of confectionery 
 before him, and then applying the sarbacane to his lips, winged 
 with dexterous aim, the sugared missive into the lap of the De- 
 moiselle Torigni. This incident, if it attracted any notice at all, 
 passed for a mere piece of gallantry, a supposition abundantly 
 confirmed by the conduct of the fxir Florentine, whose sparkling 
 eyes and throbbing bosom, as she perused the paper, as well as her 
 nod of acquiescence, while she finally crushed it within her hands, 
 sufficiently attested the nature of her feelings. Brantome, who 
 was her neighbour, hemmed significantly. Torigni crimsomed to 
 the temples ; but nothing more passed iipon the matter. 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed Crichton, who, Hushed with the anticipated 
 success of his scheme, had now entirely recovered his spirits, and 
 joined enthusiastically in the applauses bestowed upon Ilonsard''8 
 performance ; though it may be suspected, from the warmth of 
 his praises, that not a Avord of the song had reached his ears. 
 " Bravo !" he cried, with well-feigned rapture ; " the strains we have 
 listened to are worthy of him who has won for himself the proud 
 title of the ' Povte Fra>i(;oi.'<, par Excellence; of him who will enjoy 
 a kindred immortality with the Teian and Mceonian bards ; of him 
 whom beauty has worshipped, and sages honoured ; and to whom 
 one fairer than the fxirest nymph of antiquity — the loveliest pearl 
 of Scotia's diadem hath inscribed her priceless gift. 
 
 A RoNSARD I'Apollon tie la source des Muses. 
 
 Happy bard ! i;pon whom such a queen hath smiled. Not Alain 
 Chartier, upon whose melodious lips, when closed in sleep, Margaret 
 of Scotland impressed a burning kiss ; not Clement INIarot, the as- 
 piring lover of Diane de Poitiers, and of the royal Marguerite, was 
 so much to be envied. Plappy ! — happy bard ! upon whom all 
 lovely things smile." 
 
 " Except the lovely Torigni," interrupted Chicot, " and she 
 alone, who smiles on all, frowns upon him. For my part, I have 
 Jie bad taste to prefer my own verses, or those of Alellin dc Saint 
 Gelais, our ' French Ovid,' or the elegies of my cousin, Philippe 
 Desportes, (our ' Tibullus,' if llonsard is to be our ' Anacreon' — 
 bah !) A'5 sonnets are worth all the erotic poesy indited 
 
 By Honsard on these ladies three, 
 Cassandra, Helen, or JNlaric." 
 
 " Peace !" said the Scot, " and to confound thee and all such 
 unbelievers, I will, if my memory serves me, recite an ode recently 
 written by the bard thou hast traduced, worthy to be classed with 
 the most fervid strains ever poured out by him who sang of old, of 
 love, and of the vine. Attend !" And addressing the poet, whose 
 handsome countenance glowed with satisfaction, and who acknow- 
 ledged the compliment (for your bard is never insensible to flattery) 
 by kissing his wine-cup, Crichton, with the grace and fervour of 
 an Alcibiades, delivered himself of the followin2; ode. 
 
124 CKICnTON. 
 
 Anacreontic* 
 I. 
 
 When Bacchus' <;ift assails my brain, 
 Care flies, and all her gloomy train ; 
 My pulses throb, my youth returns. 
 With its old tire my bosom burns ; 
 Before my kindling vision rise 
 A thousand glorious phantasies! 
 Sudden my empty coffers swell, 
 With riches inconsumable ; 
 And mightier treasures 'round me spring 
 Than Croesus owned, or Phrygia's king, 
 
 11. 
 
 Nought seek I in that frenzied hour, 
 Save love's intoxicating power; 
 An arm to guide me in the dance, 
 An eye to thrill me with its glance, 
 A lip impassioned words to breathe, 
 A hand my temples to en wreathe : 
 Rank, iionour, wealth, and worldly weal, 
 Scornful, I crush beneath my heel. 
 
 III. 
 
 Then fill the chalice till it shine 
 
 Bright as a gem incarnadine ! 
 
 Fill ! — till its fumes have freed me wholly 
 
 From the black phantom — Melancholy I 
 
 Better inebriate 'tis to lie, 
 
 And dying live, than living die! 
 
 " Trinquons, mon cher," cried Ronsard, holding out his goblet 
 as Crichton concluded ; " my verses acquire a grace from you, 
 such as they never possessed before." 
 
 " Forget not tlie rhymes of the good Pantagruel," said Chicot — 
 
 " Et veu qu'il est de cerveau phanaticque, 
 Ce me seroit acte de trop picqueur, 
 Penser mocquer ung si noble trincqueur." 
 
 At this moment the Vicomte de Joyeuse slightly coughed, and 
 directing a glance of intelligence at Crichton, volunteered and 
 executed, with much vivacity and spirit, the following — 
 
 iSirge of 23ourbon. 
 I. 
 
 When the good Count of Nassau 
 
 Saw Bourbon lie dead, 
 " By Saint Harbe and Saint Nicholas! 
 
 Forward !''he said. 
 
 II. 
 
 •* Mutter never prayer o'er iiiin« 
 
 For litter ne'er halt ; 
 But sound loud the trumpet — 
 
 Sound, sound to assault I 
 
 * Paraphrased from Eonsard's Ode. — Lorsque Bacchus entre chez mot, ^ 
 
THE JESTER. 125 
 
 III. 
 "Bring engine — bring ladder, 
 
 Yon old walls to scale ; 
 All Rome, by Saint Peter! 
 
 For Bourbon shall wail." 
 
 And now, to follow the king and the mask. 
 "We Avould willingly serve you in this enlevement of the 
 Gelosa," said Henri, continuing a conversation Avith the unknown, 
 the earlier part of which it is not necessary :o repeat ; " wilHngly — 
 but shall I own to you a weakness ! — I have apprehensions — "" 
 
 " Of Crichton?" asked the mask, scarcely able to repress his 
 scorn. 
 
 " Of my mother, caro mio. I hold it a rule never to interfere 
 with her plans, unless they interfere with my own, and in this in- 
 stance I see not how our interests can be mixed up with your 
 wishes. Besides, to speak plainly, 1 have an affair on hand at 
 this moment which may not improbably excite her displeasure ; 
 and I am vinwilling to hazard aught that may occasion serious 
 grounds of difference between us. Why not tarry till to-mor- 
 row ?" 
 
 " Because — but I have already stated my reasons for this urgency 
 — it must be to-night — " 
 
 " You have as little reliance on Ruggieri as I have, mon cou- 
 sin," laughed the king. 
 
 " I am as little accustomed to baulk my inclinations as your 
 majesty," replied the mask, impatiently — " The prey is stricken. 
 Shall I hesitate to seize it ? By Saint Paul, no. I detain you, 
 sire. Suffer me to quit the presence. Since you decline giving 
 me your authority I will act upon my own responsibility." 
 
 " Stay," replied the king, vacillating between the awe in which 
 he stood of Catherine's resentment, and his anxiety to serve the 
 mask, " the guard stationed round the Hotel do Soissons refused 
 you admittance, you say. This ring will obtain it lor you. Take 
 it, and take the girl, and Ruggieri, too, if you list. So that you 
 rid us and our good city of Paris of him and his accursed waxen 
 images, I care not. If you encounter the queen-mother I leave you 
 to make your own excuses. Take care not to compromise me in 
 the matter. You need fear no interruption on the part of Crich- 
 ton. He is safe Avithin this chamber, and I will give instant 
 orders that the doors of the Louvre be closed till dawn." 
 
 " In an hour that caution will be needless," exclaimed the mask, 
 triumphantly. " Ere that space be past, my views will be accom- 
 plished." 
 
 And with a haughty salutation the unknown departed. 
 
 The king remained an instant in conference with Du Halde. 
 Chicot, who, upon the departure of the mask, had vacated his 
 seat, approached them. Our iester had a strong penchant foi 
 eaves-dropping. 
 
 " Let the portals of the Louvre be instantly closed/' said Henri, 
 
126 CRICIITON. 
 
 '* not a fi'ucst must go forth till dawn — above all, the Chevalier 
 Crichtoii." 
 
 The chief valet bowed. 
 
 *' I liave further commands for thee," continued the king, lower- 
 ing iiis tone — " at my wonted signal thou wilt extinguisli the Hghts." 
 
 A scarcely perceptible smile played upon Du Halde's courtier- 
 like countenance. 
 
 *' Ha ! runs it so?" said Chicot, drawing nearer to the group. 
 And here we leave him to return to the lovers. 
 
 " Esclairmonde," Avhispered the Scot, as the buffoon quitted the 
 table, " place your trust unhesitatingly in that man. He is your 
 safeguard. Confide in him, and fear nothing." 
 
 " I do not fear, Chevalier Crichton," replied the demoiselle, in 
 the same low tone. " In my extremity I liave one friend who 
 will not fail me — the good Florentin Chretien.'" 
 
 " You liave one who will perish foi' you, or tvith you," re- 
 turned Crichton. " We shall meet again?" 
 
 " Perhaps," answered Esclairmonde ; "and yet I know not — the 
 future is a gulf into which I dare not gaze. If possible I will quit 
 this palace — this city — on the morrow. One tie alone can detain 
 me, if I am free from this hateful bondage." 
 
 "And that is— ?" 
 
 " Henri de Valois," rejoined a voice. 
 
 CHAPTER. IX. 
 
 THE SARBACANE. 
 
 Je dis, et je le sgai quele Roy ayant pris une merveilleuse frayeur de ces choses, 
 des le terns de la Sarbacane, devint enfin si peureux qu'il trembloit a la vue du 
 moindre eclair. Confession de Sancy. 
 
 The king, whose quick ear caught the last words of their con- 
 versation, had approached the lovers unperceived. In vain did 
 the jester attempt to warn them by slightly coughing. Henri 
 was too rapid in his movements to allow him to proceed, and he 
 was fearful of awakening suspicion by any overt display of his sym- 
 pathy with their situation. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said the monarch, angrily regarding the 
 Scot, " I would not have to remind you a second time of your 
 pHghted word. Take heed how you rouse my choler. I have 
 something of the Medicis in my composition, though it may not 
 often manifest itself" 
 
 " And I," returned the Scot, fiercely — 
 
 " Le monde est un boiifFon, riiomme une comedl^ 
 L'lin porte la marotte, et Taiitre est la folia," 
 
 chanted Chicot, adding in a whisper to Crichton, " Your Intempe- 
 rate Scotch blood will ruin all — bethink you what you do." 
 
 " You talk boldly, chevalier," said Henri, " and I trust you 
 
THE SAKBACANE. 127 
 
 will demean yourself as stoutly on the morrow with 3'our sword. 
 Your adversary of the mask threatens to rob you of your laurels, 
 and to put a stain upon the spotless order, with which I have in- 
 vested you." 
 
 " The modest precepts of chivalry teach us, sire," replied Crich- 
 ton, " that to vaunt is not to vanquish — 
 
 Un chevalier, n'en doiitez pas, 
 Doit ferir liaut, et parler bas. 
 
 I shall abide the issue — content to rely upon a sword which has~ 
 never yet failed me, and a cause which I maintain to be the riglit." 
 " Enough," repUed Henri, whose petulance was readily dissi- 
 pated. " 1 have bidden Du II aide give orders for the proclama- 
 tion of the jousts at noon upon the morrow, witliin the lesser 
 gardens of the Louvre, and I bid yc all, fair dames and puissant 
 knights, to grace it with your presence — 
 
 Servans d'amoiirs, regarclez doulcement 
 Aux escliafFaiix aiiges de Paradis: 
 Lors jousterez fort et joyeuscment 
 Et vous screz lionorez et clieris." 
 
 As Henri sung this refrain of an old ballad of the Tourney by 
 Eustache Deschamps, with much taste and some feeling, his features 
 assumed, for a moment, the expression whicli might liave animated 
 them, when, flushed with tlie promise of a glorious manhood, his 
 youthful valour had achieved the victory of Montcontour. 
 
 " Ah, Crichton !" he sighed, as he concluded ; " the days of 
 Tannegui Du-Chatel, and Gaston do Foix are past. With iny 
 brave father, Henri de Valois, chivalry expired !" 
 
 " Say not so, sire," replied Crichton, " while yourself can yet 
 wield a lance, and while a Joyeuse, a D'Epernon, and a Saint-Luc, 
 yet live to raise their banners." 
 
 " To say nothing of a Crichton," interrupted Henri, *' whose 
 name will gild our reign hereafter, when others are forgotten. — ■ 
 With the Bearnais in the field — the Balafre coquetting Avith my 
 crown, and my brother of Anjou in open revolt against me, I 
 have need of loyal hearts and true. Joyeuse, mon enfant, I heard 
 thy voice just now — hast thou not some stirring strain of knightly 
 days, to chime with the chord which chance has struck within my 
 breast ?" 
 
 " If such be your pleasure, my gracious liege," replied Joyeuse, 
 " you shall have the lay of the truest knight that ever served monarch 
 of 3'our realm — the valiant constable, Bertrand Du Guesclin." 
 
 With a fire and spirit which evinced how completely the glorious 
 prowess of the warrior, whose brave deeds he celebrated, was in 
 unison with his own ardent aspirations after chivalrous renown, 
 ^byeuse then sang, in a rich melodious voice, the following 
 
1£8 cuicnroN. 
 
 iBittiJ of Bu (Sutsclfn.* 
 1. 
 
 A silver shield squire diil wield, cliarged witli an eagle black, 
 
 With talon red, and two-fold iiead, wlio followed on the track 
 
 Of the best knight that ere in tijzht hurled mace, or couched the lance, 
 
 Du Guesclin named, who truncheon claimed as Constable of France. 
 
 II. 
 ' In Brittany, where Kennesf doth lie, Du Guesclin first drew breath ; 
 Born for emprize — in counsel wise, brave, loyal unto death. 
 With hand and sword, with heart and word, served well this baron bold 
 The azure scutcheon that displayed three fleur-de-lis of gold.J 
 
 "ill. 
 Like Guesclin bold of warriors old in prowess there was none, 
 'Mid peers that stood 'round Arthur good, Baldwin or brave Bouillon; 
 IS'or, as I ween, hath kniglithood seen a chief more puissantly 
 \\ ith staff advance the flower of France 'gainst hostile chivalry. 
 
 IV. 
 
 — Guesclin is dead ! and with him fled the bravest and the best, 
 Tliat ever yet, by foe beset, maintained fair Gallia's crest ! 
 His soul (iod shrive! — were he alive, his spear were couched again 
 To guard the three gold lilies from the white cross of LorrairiliJ 
 
 " Heaven rest the soul of tlie valiant constable !" sighed Henri, 
 as Joycuse brought his ballad to a close. " Would he were living 
 now ! — but wherefore," he added, glancing affectionately at the 
 vicotnte, " should I indulge the wish while thou, my gallant 
 D'Arques, remainest to me ? — With thee by my side," he con- 
 tinued, smilin^;", " I need have little anticipation of the third 
 crown which the Duchess de Montpensier promises me — Poland's 
 diadem I have already borne — that of France I now possess — 
 but the monk's tonsure — " 
 
 •• Will become her brother, the Balafre, better than you, my 
 gracious liege," interrupted Joycuse, " to Tartams, with the felon 
 cross of Lorrain and its supporters." 
 
 • A free version of an " olde scntil" Breton lay of the age of Charles V. of 
 France, a stanza is subjoined, tlmt the render may have a taste of its freshness 
 and simplicity. Tlic ballad, it may be observed, lias remained wholly inedited, 
 until the publication by 'M. Crajiclet, of the golden manuscript of the Combat 
 des Trente, extracted from the Bibliotltique du lioi. 
 
 3le 3DI$tfc tii iHons. Ucrtran i3e Glasguin. 
 lilcscH Ijnrgcm n . 1". cglc tic sable 
 "3 . i|. testes et . ];, rogc fiaston 
 ^Dourtoist li preti.x le ijallant tonncstdble 
 Cljui lie Glasguin 13evtran nuoist a nom 
 "a ftron ftt ncs le cl)el)alier brcton 
 ^iJreux et Ijartii cottragcux cume . 3:. tor 
 Cijui tant serui tit louial tuer et Ire bon 
 l-'escu tia^ur a . iij. flours tit lis Uor. 
 "t The Chateau de la IMotte-Broon, near Rennes. 
 X The royal arms of France. 
 
 § The cognizance of the house of Guise. The double Cross of Lorrain wm 
 adopted as an ensign by the T.eagucrs, of Avhom the Duke of Guise, was t/* 
 prime mover : — a circumstance which gave rise to the following sarcastic and 
 somewhat irreverent quatrain, quite in the spirit of the times : — 
 Mais, dites moi, que signifie 
 Que ies Ligueurs ont double croix ? — 
 C'est qu'en la Ligue on crucifie 
 Jesus Christ encore une fois. 
 
THE SAKBACANE. 1 29 
 
 *' An ! Joyeuse — my brother," said Henri, smiling affectionately, 
 *• thou art, indeed, as brave as Du Gueschn, as loyal as Bayard." 
 
 " Bayard!" exclaimed Crichton, " my heart leaps up at that 
 name, as at the clarion's call. Would that my life miijht be like 
 Bayard's, and," he added, fervently ; " my hle's close likewise !" 
 
 " To that prayer, 1 cry amen with my whole soul," said Joyeuse, 
 *' But while our hearts are warmed with the thoughts kindled by 
 such glorious recollections, prithee, Crichton, clothe somewhat of 
 thci:* gallant deeds in thine inspiring verse. Thou art a minstrel 
 worthy of Bayard. Even my friend, Philippe Desportes must 
 yield the palm of song to thee." 
 
 " Joyeuse is in the right," said Henri. " A nobler subject for 
 the bard could not be found, nor better bard to rehearse such 
 subject. Three well beneficed abbeys were the meed of as many 
 sonnets from Desportes. 1 know not how I shall requite your 
 performance, mon cher." 
 
 " Bestow not such unmerited praise on me, I beseech your 
 majesty," replied Crichton, " or I shall scarce adventure my lay 
 on a theme I cannot dwell upon without deepest emotion." 
 
 " First let us pledge the memory of the reproachless chevalier," 
 said Henri, "and then embalm his deeds in song." 
 
 The goblets were filled — and drained. Crichton pronounced his 
 pledge with devotion, and quaffed the sparkling contents of his 
 "wine-cup to the dregs. 
 
 In a tone, then, which showed how deeply his own sympathy 
 was enHsted in the subject-matter of his strains — with an unstudied 
 simphcity of manner perfectly in unison with the minstrel measure 
 he had chosen, and with much knightly fervour — he sang the 
 following ballad: — 
 
 ^5f ^tuortr of 33aj.)artr. 
 I. 
 
 ** A boon I crave, my Bayard brave :" — 'twas thus King Francis spoke; 
 " The field is won, the battle done,* yet deal one other stroke. 
 For by this light, to dub us knight, none worthy is as thou, 
 Whom nor reproach, nor fear approach, of prince or peer we trow." 
 
 'Sire !" said the knight, " you judge not right, who owns a kingdom faiFi 
 'Neath his command all knights do stand — no service can he share." 
 " Nay ! by our fay !" the king did saj', " lo .' at thy feet we kneel, 
 Let silken rules sway tiltyard schools, our laws are here of steel." 
 
 III. 
 
 With gracious mien did Bayard then, his sword draw from his side ; 
 
 " By God ! Saint Michael ! and Saint George ! 1 dub thee knight!"' he cried. 
 
 • The famous engagement with the Swiss, near Milan, in which Francis the First 
 came off victorious. Fleuranges places the ceremony of the king's knighthood 
 before the battle. The " Loyal Servant," however, states that it occurred, as is 
 most probable, after the conflict. 
 
 S 
 
130 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Arise, good king! weal may this bring — such grace on thee confer. 
 As erst from blow of Charles did flow, Roland or Oliver !' 
 
 IV. 
 
 With belted blade, the kingarraved— the kniglit tlie spur applied, 
 And then his neck with chain di(i deck — and accolade supplied — 
 "Do thy devoirat ghostly choir — nnxintain liigli courtesie, 
 And from the fray in war's array, God grant thou never flee !'' 
 
 V. 
 
 "Certes, good blade,"* tlien Bayard said, his own sword waving high, 
 " Thou slialt, pordie, as relic be prefervcd full carefullv! 
 Right fortunate art thou, good sword, a king so brave to knight! 
 And with strong love, all arnTs above, rest honoured in my sight. 
 
 VI. 
 And never more, as heretofore, bj' Christian chivalry, 
 My trenchant blade, slialt thou be rayed, or e'er endangered bel 
 For Paynim foes reserve thy blows — the Saracen and Moor 
 Thine edge shall smite in bitter ligiit, or merciless estour!"f 
 
 VII. 
 Years, since that day, have rolled away, and Bayard hurt to death, 
 'Neath gray Rebecco's walls outstretclTd, exhales his latest breath. 
 On Heaven he cried, or ere he died — but cross had none, I wist. 
 Save that good sword-hilt cruciform, which with pale lips he kissed J 
 
 VIII. 
 Knight ! whom reproach could ne'er approach, no name like unto thine. 
 With honour bright, unsullied, white, on Fame's proud scroll shall shine! 
 But were it not to mortal lot denied by grace divine, 
 Should Eajard's life, and Bayard's deatli, and his good sword be mine. 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed Jojeuse, " may tlie same spirit which 
 animated Bayard animate you on the morrow ! 
 
 A bien joustergardez votre querelle 
 Et vous serez honorez et cheris, 
 
 as runs the old refrain. ' Souvins toi,' as the poursuivants-at-arms 
 are wont to cheer us at the tourney, ' de qui tu es fils, et ne forligne 
 pas !' " 
 
 " My father's sword will, I trust, be grasped by no degenerate 
 hand," replied Crichton, smiling, " and prove as fortunate to 
 me as Orlando's resistless blade Durandal, or thy namesake 
 Joyouse, the trenchant weapon of Charlemagne. I shall neither 
 forget of wliat worthy gentleman I am the son, nor," he added, 
 glancing at Esclairmonde, " of what fair dame I am the servant." 
 
 "Will not the dame you serve," asked the vicomte, smiling, 
 "in accordance with the good old practice of chivalry, too much 
 
 • " Tu es bien heurcuse d'avoir atijourdhui, u un si beau et si puissant roi, donne 
 I'ordre de chevalerie. Certes, ma bonne tpce, vous serez comme reliques gardee, 
 et sur tout autre honore !" — Precis de la Chevahrte. 
 
 t Estour — a grand melee. 
 
 X " This sword has been lost. Charles Emanuel, Duke of Savoy, requested it 
 Df Bayard's heirs. One of them, Cliarles du jMotet, Lord of Chichiliane, sent him, 
 in default of it, the battle-axe of which Baj-ard made use. The duke told the 
 Daupliinese gentleman, wlien he wrote to tliank him for the present, ' That is 
 the midst of the pleasure he felt at beholding this Aveapon placed in the worthiest 
 part of his gallery, he could scarce choose, but regret that it was not in such good 
 hands as of its original owner.' " — Champier. — See also the account of Bayard'i 
 death in the Chronicle of the Loyal Servant. 
 
THE SAREACANE. 131 
 
 neglected, I grieve to say, now-a-days, bestow some token or favour 
 upon you? The dame De Fluxasgave her sleeve to Bayard, when 
 he gained the prize of the tourney at Carignan." 
 
 " I have no other token but this to bestow," said Esclairmonde, 
 blushing, and detaching a knot of ribands from her hair, " which 
 I now give to the Chevalier Crichton, and pray him to wear for my 
 sake." 
 
 Crichton took the gage, and pressing it to his lips, exclaimed 
 with fervour, 
 
 " I will bear it upon my lance ; and if my adversary boast like 
 token of his lady's favour, I trust to lay it as an offering at your 
 feet." 
 
 " No more," interrupted Ilcnvi, impatiently. " I, myself, 
 will break a lance in your behoof, belle Esclairmonde, and here 
 appoint you Queen of tlie Lists. Remember, mcsseignc\irs, the 
 heralds Avill proclaim the joust to-morrow. I, myself, will enter 
 the barriers, which I have appointed with niore than usual mag- 
 nificence. Thus much I owe to the combatants. Do thou, 
 Joyeuse, array fourteen of thy followers in white scarves, and thou, 
 D'Epernon, the like number of thy Quarante-Cinq, in yellow. I 
 will have the courses, a la foule, take place by torchlight, as was 
 the custom of my chivalrous father — at which time, also, I will 
 make trial of -my Spanish jennets in the new Ballet des Chevaux, 
 devised by my chief equerry. Par la ISIort-Dieu I if my reign bp, 
 remembered for nothing else, it shall be referred to for its ceaselesv 
 festivities." 
 
 " And now," he added, gallantly, " that we have listened to the 
 lay of preux chevalier, 1 trust the response of gentle dame will 
 not be denied us. The fair Torigni, I know hath a witching 
 skill upon the lyre, but the voice I chiefly desire to hear is that 
 of my lovely neighbour. Nay, fair demoiselle, I am peremptory, 
 and will take no refusal. She whose lightest tones are music, 
 cannot be held excused on plea of want of skill. You need but 
 to link your voice Avith the words of some simple legend, and 
 I will engage that your performance shall exceed in attraction 
 the most finished effort of the choicest Italian cantatrice, even 
 though your opponent should be (with a glance at Crichton) the 
 divine Gelosa herself, whose notes attracted all our good citizens 
 to the Hotel de Bourbon." 
 
 Aware that remonstrance would be unavailing, with the best 
 grace she could assume, and in a voice, the tones of which, as 
 Henri justly remarked, were perfectly musical, Esclairmonde, 
 without hesitation, complied with the king's request, and with 
 much natural and touching pathos, executed the following 
 Spanish romance: — 
 
 2k 
 
132 CRICHTON. 
 
 |9us£f anti SSoraytia.* 
 I 
 
 Through the Vega of Granada, where the silver Darro glides — 
 From his tower within the Alpuxar — swift— swilt Prince Yiisef ridef 
 To her wlio holds his heart in tlirall — a captive Christian maid — 
 On winss of fear and doubt he flies, of sore mischance afraid. 
 For ah! full well doth Yusef know with what relentless ire, 
 His love for one of adverse faith is noted by his sire : 
 " Zorayda mine," he cries nloud — on — on — his courser strains- 
 ••Zorayda mine ! — thine Yusef comes!" — the Alhambra walls he gains 
 
 II. 
 
 Through the marble Court of Lions — through the stately Tocador— 
 To Lindaraxa's bowers he goes — the Queen lie stands before ; 
 Her maidens round his mother group — but not a word she speaks. 
 In vain amid that lovely throng, one lovelier form he seeks ; 
 In vain he tries 'mid orient eyes, orbs darker far to meet ; 
 No form so light, no eyes so bright, as hers his vision greet, 
 "Zorayda mine — Zorayda mine ! ah whither art thou fled?" 
 A low, low wail returns his cry — a wail as for the dead. 
 
 III. 
 
 No answer made his mother, but her hand gave to her son — 
 To the garden of the Generalif together are they gone ; 
 Where gushing fountains cool the air — where scents the citron pale, 
 Where nightingales in concert fond rehearse their love-lorn tale, 
 Wlipre roses link'd with myrtles make green woof :igainst the sky, 
 Half hidden by their verdant screen a sepulchre duth lie; 
 "Zorayda mine — Zorayda mine! — ah! wiierefore art thou flown. 
 To gather flowers in Yemen's bowers while I am left alone !" 
 
 IV. 
 
 Upon the ground kneels Yusef— his heart is like to break ; 
 
 In vain the queen wc ul 1 comfort him — no comfort will he take. 
 
 His blinded gaze he tur is upon that sculptured marble fair. 
 
 Embossed with gems, and glistening with coloured pebbles rare ; 
 
 Red stones of Ind — black, vermeil, green, their mingled hues combine, 
 
 With jacinth, sapphire, amethyst, and diamond of the mine. 
 
 *' Zorayda mine — Zorayda mine !" — thus ran sad Yusef's cry, 
 
 " Zorayda mine, within this tomb, ah ! sweet one ! dost thou lie ?" 
 
 V. 
 
 Upon that costly sepulchre, two radiant forms are seen, 
 
 In sparkling alabaster carved like crystal in its sheen ; ; 
 
 The one as Yusef fashioned, a golden crescent bears. 
 
 The other, as Zorayda wrought, a silver crossiet wears. 
 
 * The incidents of this ballad are, with some slight variation, derived from 
 those of the exquisite French romance, Flore et Blancheflor, the date of which may 
 be referred to the thirteenth century, and which unquestionably, as its recent 
 editor, M. Paulin, Paria, supposes, ia of Spanish or Moorish origin. 
 
THE SARBACANE. 133 
 
 And ever, as soft zephyr sigl)s, the pair his breath obey. 
 And meet within eacli other's arms like infants in their play.* 
 " Zoraydi fair — Zorayila fair" — thus golden letters tell 
 " A Christian maid lies buried here — by Moslem loved too well. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Three times those golden letters with grief sad Yusef reads, 
 To tears and frantic agony a fearful calm succeeds — 
 " Ah ! wo is me ; Zoiayda mine — ah ; would the self-same blow- 
 That laid thee 'neath this mocking tomb, had laid tliy lover low; 
 Two faithful hearts, like ours, in vain stern death may strive to sever^ 
 A moment more, the pang is o'er, ihe grave unites us ever, 
 Zorayda mine — Zoraj'da mine — this dagger sets me free — 
 Zorayda mine — look down — look down — thus — thus I come to thee l" 
 
 VII. 
 
 ** Hold ! Yusef, hold!" a voice exclaims, " tiiy loved Zorayda lives'^ 
 Thy constancy is well approved — thy sire his son forgives. 
 Tiiinc ardent passion doubting long — thy truth I tiius have tried, 
 Behold her whom thy faith hath won — receive her as thv bride!" 
 In Yusef s arms — to Yusef's heart, Zorayda close is prcs^'d. 
 Half stifled by a flood of joy, these words escape his l)rcast : — 
 "Zorayda mine— Zorayda mine! — ah! dtubly dear tliou art 
 Uninterrupted bliss be ours, whom death has failed to part !" 
 
 The monarch's loud applauses at the close of the song were reite- 
 rated to the echo by the assen^Llage. Crimsoning with shame, 
 Eslairmonde ventured a glance towards her lover, wliosc silent admi- 
 ration was of more value in her eyes than the courtly compliments 
 which were so freely lavished upon her efforts. 
 
 " And now for the lay of the belle Torigni," said Henri, " her 
 songs are wont to be of a more sprightly description — ah! Signorina 
 mia ! Shall we sue in vain?'' 
 
 Torigni needed little pressing ; but with much archness and 
 spirit, complied with the king's request in the following ballad: — 
 
 Yolanticf 
 
 A golden flower embroidering, 
 A lay of love low murmuring ; 
 Secluded in the eastern tower 
 Sits fair Yolande within her bower: 
 
 Fair — fair Yolande 1 
 
 ♦ This circumstance is thus depicted in the French Romance i 
 En la tombe et quartre tuiaus 
 Aus quartre cors bien fait et biaus. 
 Es quiex li quartre vent feroient 
 Chascuns, ainsi com'il ventoient. 
 Quant li vens los enfans tochoit, 
 L'un beisoit I'autre et accoloit ; 
 Si disoient, par nigromance 
 De tout lor bon, de lor enfance. 
 
 Flore et BtAwcnEFLon. 
 
 t A very free adaptation of a sparkling little romance by Audefroy-le Bastard 
 to be found in the liomancsro Francois, entitled Bele Yolans. Aliicli liberty lias 
 been taken with the conclduin^' Kt^iniz* — iadeed the song altogctlier bears bufe 
 •light resemblance to its original 
 
134 CRICHTON. 
 
 Suddenly a voice austere, 
 
 W'itli sharp reproof breaks on her earv— 
 
 Her motlier 'tis wlio silently 
 
 Has stolen upon her privacy — 
 
 Ah ! fair Yolande! 
 *' Mother ! why that angry look ? 
 Mother I why that sharp rebuke? 
 Is it that I while away 
 My solitude with amorous lay? 
 Or, is it that my thread of gold 
 Idly I weave, that thus you scold 
 
 Your own Volande — Your own Yolande? 
 
 II. 
 
 It is not that you while away 
 Your solitude with amorous lay. 
 It is not that your tijread of gold 
 Idly you weave that thus I scold 
 
 My fair Yolande I 
 Your want of caution 'tis I chide .- — 
 The Baron fancies that you hide 
 Beneath the cushion on your knee, 
 A letter from tlie Coiuit Mahi : — 
 
 Ah ! fair Yolande ! 
 Busy tongues have filled his brain 
 With jealousy and frantic pain ; 
 Hither liastes he with his train! — 
 And if a letter there should be 
 Concealed 'ueath your embroidery? 
 Say no more. Hut give it me. 
 
 My own Yolande — my own Yolande." 
 
 " By our Lady !" exclaimed Henri, laugliing, " that ditty likes 
 me well. Samson, a cup of Syracuse — messeigneurs, I pledge our 
 fair minstrels — Ah ! — par la Mort Dieu ! — I have a feeling of such 
 unwonted exhilaration in our heart, that I must perforce give vent 
 to it in song. My Hippocrcne is this fiery wine — my inspiration 
 the lovely Esclairmonde." 
 
 This gracious intimation on the part of his majesty was received, 
 as might be anticipated, coming from such a quarter, with acclama- 
 tions. 
 
 *' Henri is certainly drunlc, abbe," ol)served Joyeuse. 
 
 " Beyond a doubt," returned Brantome, shakmg his head, and 
 perfectly unconscious of his own condition, " wine speedily assaults 
 his brain — ha — ha ! But do you not perceive, my dear vicomte, 
 that tlie banquet draws to a close ?" 
 
 "Do you think so?" asked Torigni — "my heart flutters verj' 
 unaccountably. Moiisieur le vicomte, bid your page give me the 
 least possible drop of Cyprus. I have not entirely recovered the 
 shock her Majesty of Navarre gave me." 
 
 " Or the effects of Crichton's billet," returned Brantome, hem- 
 ming significantly. 
 
 " His majesty's song," interposed Joyeuse. 
 
THE SARBACANE. 135 
 
 With a taste and skill that showed how highly cultivated had 
 been the musical talent he possessed, Henri then gave the 
 following rondel : — 
 
 15scIairmoutic. 
 I. 
 
 The crown is proud 
 
 That (Jocks our brow ; 
 Tlie laugh is loud — 
 
 Tliat glads us now. 
 The sounds that fall 
 
 Around — above 
 Are laden all 
 
 With love — with love — 
 
 ^^ ith love — with love. 
 
 II. 
 
 Heaven cannot show, 
 
 'Mid all its sheen 
 Orbs of such glow 
 
 As here are seen. 
 And monarch ne'er 
 
 Exulting own'd, 
 Queen miglit compare 
 
 With Esdairmonde. — 
 
 With Esdairmonde. 
 
 III. 
 From Bacchus' fount, 
 
 I)ee[) drauglits we drain; 
 Their spirits mount. 
 
 And tire our brain ; 
 But in our heart 
 
 Of hearts enthroned, 
 From all apart, 
 
 Ilcbts Esdairmonde — 
 
 Rests Esdairmonde 
 
 "Perfect!" exclaimed Ronsard. 
 
 "Perfect!" repeated every voice. 
 
 " His late majesty, Charles IX., never improvised strains more 
 delightful," continued the bard. 
 
 ""Never," replied Chicot, " Charles's unpremeditated strains 
 beinrr generally understood to be rjour composition. Monsieur de 
 Ronsard. I think nothing of them. Mediocrity is the prerogative 
 of royalty. A good king must be a bad poet. But you have all 
 praised his majesty's performance, now listen to the moral of the 
 gtory — though morality 1 must own is a little out of fashion in the 
 Louvre." And mnnicking, so far as he dared, the looks and tones 
 of the king, the jester commenced his parody as follows : 
 
 The crown is proud, 
 
 But brings it peace? 
 The laugh is loud — 
 
 Full sooii 'iw'.l- cease. 
 
136 CRICHTON. 
 
 The sounds that fall 
 
 From hglitest breath, 
 Are laden all 
 
 With death — with death. 
 
 U ith death— with death. 
 
 " Enougli, and too much," interrupted Henri, "we will not have 
 our flow of spirits checked by thy raven croaking. Be prepared,' 
 he whispered, *' with the signal; and now, messeigneurs," he con- 
 tinued aloud, " the night wears, the music sounds again, the new 
 masque of ' Circe and her nymphs"" awaits you. Nay, mignonne," 
 he added, in a low impassioned tone, and forcibly detaining Esclair- 
 monde ; " you must remain with me." 
 
 At tliis hint from the monarch the guests arose ; and each gallant 
 taking a dame under his arm, left the banquet-hall. Crichton and 
 Torigni were the last to quit the room. A significant look passed 
 between the Scot and Chicot, as he lingered for an instant at the 
 doorway, the meaning of which the latter appeared clearly to 
 comprehend, for waving his hand, as if in obdicnce to the royal 
 command, the perfumed torches were suddenly extinguished. 
 Page, valet, usher, and buffoon, disappeared ; the tapestry was 
 swiftly drawn together ; the valves were closed ; and Henri was 
 left in darkness with the demoiselle. 
 
 All this was the work of a moment. The king was taken a little 
 by surprise. Chicot had given the signal sooner than he intended. 
 
 Concluding himself alone with Esclairmonde, Henri addressed a 
 passionate exclamation to her, at the same time endeavouring to 
 obtain possession of her hand. The demoiselle, however, with a 
 cry of terror, eluded his *j^rasp, and fled, so far as she was able to 
 determine in the obscurity in which all was wrapped, towards the 
 door. 
 
 " Ah, ah, fair bird ! you cannot escape me now," exclaimed 
 Henri, exultingly, following in pursuit. 
 
 And as he spoke, with outstretched hands he grasped at some- 
 thing which, in the darkness, appeared to be the flying figure of 
 the damsel. The sudden prostration of his royal person, and the 
 subsequent loud jingle of falling glass, mixed with the clatter of 
 plate, soon, however, convinced him of his error ; while a stifled 
 laugh, proceeding, as he concluded, from the demoiselle, completed 
 his mortification. 
 
 The king arose, but said nothing, and, suspending his own 
 respiration, listened intently. For a moment not a sound waf 
 heard. Henri then thought he detected a light step stealing 
 towards the other side of the room, and directed his attention to 
 that quarter. A noise, as of arras being raised, followed by a faint 
 creak, such as might be produced by a sliding panel, was just 
 audible. " Diable ! the secret door — can she have discovered 
 it ?" ejaculated Henri, rushing in the direction of the sound. 
 " She may elude me after all." 
 
 A light laugh, however, issuing; from a different part of the 
 
THE SARBaCANE. 137 
 
 chamber, and which, questionless, originated with his inamorata, 
 satisfied him that she was still in the room. Gliding noiselessly 
 forward, guided by the sound, ere another instant he had grasped a 
 small soft hand, which he covered with a thousand kisses, and 
 which, strange to say, palpably returned his pressure. 
 
 Henri was in positive raptures. 
 
 " How much one may be deceived !" exclaimed the enamoured 
 monarch ; " this delightful gloom makes all the difference in the 
 world. I was quite right to have the torches extinguished. You, 
 fair Esclairmondc, who, a few minutes ago, were all coyness and 
 reserve — a very belle dame sans merci — are as amiable and complai- 
 sant as — (whom shall I say ?) — as the obliging Torigni." 
 
 " Ah, sire T' murmured a low voice. 
 
 " I'fliith, fair demoiselle,'' continued the delighted Henri, " so 
 charming do I find you, that I am half tempted to become a 
 heretic myself. On these lips I could embrace any faith proposed 
 to us—" 
 
 At this moment, a hollow voice breathed in the very portals of 
 his ear, these words — " Vilain Herodes" — an anagram framed 
 by the Jacobins upon his own name — Henri de Valois. 
 
 The king started, and trembled. 
 
 It has already been stated, that Henri was bigoted and super- 
 stitious to the last degree. His hand now shook so much, that 
 he could scarcely retain the fair fingers he held within his grasp. 
 
 " Did you speak, demoiselle ?" he asked, after an instant's pause. 
 
 " No, sire," replied his companion. 
 
 " Your voice appears strangely altered," returned Henri, " I 
 scarcely recognise its tones as those of Esclairmondc." 
 
 " Your majesty's hearing deceives you," returned the lady. 
 
 " So much so," replied Henri, " that I could almost fancy I had 
 heard your voice imder similar circumstances before. This shows 
 how one may be mistaken." 
 
 " It does, indeed," replied the lady ; " but perliaps your majesty 
 found the voice to which you allude more agreeable than mine." 
 
 " By no means," replied Henri. 
 
 *' You would not then change me for any other ?" asked the 
 lady, timidly. 
 
 " Not for my kingdom," exclaimed Henri, " would I have any 
 one else in your place ! She of whom I spoke was very different 
 from you, ma mi».'^ 
 
 " Are you quite sure of that, sire ?" 
 
 *' As of my salvation," replied Henri, passionately. 
 
 " Of which thou art by no means assured," breathed the deep 
 sepulchral voice in his ears. 
 
 " There — again — did you hear nothing, demoiselle ?" asked the 
 king, in new alarm. 
 
 " Nothing whatever," rejoined the lady. " What odd fancies 
 you have, sire !" 
 
138 CKICHTON. 
 
 '■' Odd, indeed !" answered Henri, trembling. " I begin to tliink 
 I acted wrongly in lovino; a Huguenot. — Par la Saint-Barthelemy 
 you must reform your faith, demoiselle." 
 
 " 'Tis thou, Henri de Valois, who must reform," returned the 
 sepulchral voice, " or thy days are numbered." 
 
 " Averte faciem tuam a pcccatis meis .'" exclaimed the terrified 
 king, dropping on his knees, " et omnes iniquitates meus dele /" 
 
 " What ails your majesty ?" asked his companion. 
 
 "Hence — hence — fair delusion!" exclaimed Henri — "avoid 
 tliee ! — Doceho iniquos vias tuus, Domine /" 
 
 *' Trouble not the virtuous Hugvienot," continued the voice. 
 
 " In peccatis concepit me matej-,'^ continued Henri. 
 
 "True," replied the voice, " or the memory of Fernelius hath 
 been scandalously calumniated." 
 
 "Fernelius!" echoed Henri, scarcely comprehending what was 
 said to him, and fancying in his terror that the voice had acknow- 
 ledged itself to belong to the shade of his mother's departed phy- 
 sician — " Art thou the spirit of Fernelius arisen from purgatory to 
 torment me ?" 
 
 " Even so," was the response, which seemed mingled with 
 diabolical laughter. 
 
 " I will have nightlj^ masses said for the repose of thy soul, 
 unhappy Fernelius," continued the king — " so thou wilt no more 
 perplex me. In Poradisum deducant te Angeli ! Suscipiant 
 Martijres !" 
 
 ''Thou must do more," returned the voice. 
 
 " I will do any thing — every thing you enjoin, gracious Ferne- 
 lius," said the king. 
 
 " Cherish thy jester Chicot," continued the voice. 
 
 " As my brother," answered the king. 
 
 "Not as thy brother — but as thyself," returned the shade of 
 Fernelius. 
 
 " I will — I will," replied Henri. " What more ?" 
 
 " Abandon this vain quest of the virtuous Esclairraonde, and 
 return to her whom thou hast abandoned." 
 
 " Whom mean you ?" asked the king, somewhat perplexed — 
 *' to whom have your words especial reference, most excellent 
 Fernelius — to my Queen Louise ?" 
 
 "To the Demoiselle Torigni," rejoined the voice. 
 
 " Torigni 1" echoed Henri, despniringly — "any of my formei 
 loves were preferable to her. Is there no other alternative ?" 
 
 " None whatever," sternly answered the spectre. 
 
 *' Sooner then," replied Henri, " will I incur — ha! — diahlc! — 
 a ghost indulge in merriment — this is some trick — " he exclaimed, 
 suddenly recovering his confidence, and starting to his feet, while, 
 with his right hand, he grasped at some object near him. " We 
 have traitors here," he continued, as steps were heard retreating. 
 *' This is no ghost — no Fernehus — " 
 
TUE SAUBACANE. 139 
 
 " What in the name of wonder has your majesty been talking 
 about all this time ?" asked the lady with affected astonishment. 
 
 " You shall hear anon. 'Fore Heaven, demoiselle, yon will have 
 reason to repent this conduct — and your accomplice likewise will 
 rue his rashness. We can readily divine who is the author of this 
 mistaken pleasantry. What ho ! lights ! liglits !" And applying 
 a whistle to his lips, the doors were instantly thrown open, and the 
 attendants ruslied in with flambeaux. 
 
 The torchlight fell upon the monarch and his companion, 
 Abaslied probably at the presence of so many sj^ectators, the lady 
 covered her face witli her hands. 
 
 " Look up, demoiselle !" cjacvdated Henri, angrily — " Nay, I, 
 will not spare your blushes, depend upon it. Our whole court shall 
 learn the trick you would have put upon your sovereign : — our 
 whole court shall witness your exposure. Look up, 1 say — if 
 your effrontery could carry you thus i'ar, it may bear you still further. 
 A few moments back the laugh was on your side, it is now on mirs 
 — ah ! — ah ! — Par Dieu ! — I would not spare you this infliction 
 for our best barony. Look up — look up, Demoiselle Esclair- 
 monde — " 
 
 And forcibly withdrawing the hands of the lady, her features 
 were revealed to the general gaze. 
 
 They were those of Torigni ! 
 
 Despite the presence in which they stood, the courtiers found it 
 impossible to repress a titter. " Diantre !'' exclaimed Henri, pet- 
 tishly — " Duped ! — deceived ! — what — what has become of Esclair- 
 monde?" 
 
 At this moment the crowd respectfully drew aside, and the 
 Queen Louise stepped forward. 
 
 " The Demoiselle Esclairmonde has placed herself under my 
 protection," she said, approaching his majesty. 
 
 " Under your protection, Louise!" said the monarch, in amaze- 
 ment. '* Do you afford sanctuary to a Huguenot ? By the four 
 Evangelists ! madaine, we esteemed you too good a Catholic to 
 hazard even the chance contamination of a heretic's presence." 
 
 " I trust I may sympathise with the distress of those whose 
 opinions differ from my own without offence to Him who is in 
 Himself all charity," replied Louise, mildly; •' and in this ca=c where 
 innocence and purity have sought refuge with me, I could lay 
 little claim to the first of Christian virtues — Mercy — had I refused 
 it. I have passed my Avord for her safety." 
 
 •* You have done wisely — very wisely — I must say, madame," 
 exclaimed Henri, contemptuously, " and no doubt your father 
 confessor will concur with your sentiments. We shall see. I shall 
 not argue the point now. There is one person, however, with 
 whom we can deal. Where is the demoiselle's loyal servant? 
 Where is Crichton? He has not taken shelter under your wing 
 likewise. Your word we conclude is not passed for /«*/«." 
 
140 CRICHTON. 
 
 "The Chevalier Crichton has quitted the Louvre, Henri," 
 replied Louise. 
 
 " Impossible !" exclaimed the king; " the gates are closed by an 
 express order.'^ 
 
 *' He is gone, nevertheless," rejoined Torigni. 
 
 " Gone !" echoed Henri. " By your contrivance, madame," 
 he added, looking angrily at the queen. 
 
 " No, Henri," replied Louise, gently; *' neither had he a hand in 
 Esclairmonde's liberation. The demoiselle sought me alone.'' 
 
 '* How then did he contrive his flight?" demanded the king, 
 turnincf to Torio-ni. 
 
 The demoiselle glanced towards the secret panel and nodded. 
 Henri understood her. 
 
 " Enough," he said, " I see it all, but where is your accomplice 
 — the spectre ?" 
 
 " Here — sire — here," cried Siblot, dragging forth Chicot, whose 
 feet he had detected peeping from under the table, " here is — " 
 
 " The Doctor Fernelius," replied Chicot, with a look of droll 
 contrition, "pardon — pardon, sire." 
 
 " Thou Fernelius! " exclaimed Henri, who, notwithstanding his 
 displeasure, could scarcely forbear laughing at Chicot's grimaces, 
 " How didst thou produce those awful sounds, thou treacherous 
 knave ?" 
 
 " By this tube," replied Chicot, holding up the sarbacane of the 
 Vicomte de Joyeuse. " You must own I played my part with 
 spirit." 
 
 "A sarbacane!" exclaimed Henri — "henceforth I banish all 
 tubes of this description from the Louvre, and thou mayst thank 
 our clemency, deceitful varlet, that I do not banish thee with them." 
 
 " Surely your majesty would not pass a sentence of self-exile," 
 returned the jester. " Sire you promised the v\orthy Fernelius to 
 cherish me as yourself" 
 
 " Coquin," cried Henri, " I am half disposed to send thee to 
 keep Fernelius company. But enough of this. Joyeuse," lie added, 
 " go with thy followers to the Hotel de Soissons, and if thou 
 encountorest this wayward Crichton or the mask within its walla 
 place both under arrest till to-morrow. Lose not a moment on 
 the way. Madame, I attend you." 
 
141 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE HOTEL DE SOISSONS. 
 
 Voila done son execrable palais ! palais de la luxure, palais de la trahison, palaU 
 ie tous It-s crimes! — 
 
 Victor Hugo. 
 
 Quitting the Louvre, its festivities, and its enraged and dis- 
 contented monarch, and descending into the gardens of the palace, 
 we shall now pursue the footsteps of a masked cavalier, who, wrapped 
 in the folds of a sable domino, took his hasty way through its 
 embowered walks and trim arcades. 
 
 The whole of the space, at this time crowded by the courts and 
 other buildings forming the offices of the Louvre was, at the period 
 of our narrative, disposed in noble alleys bordered with exquisite 
 shrubs — shadowed by tall trees — with here and there terraces and 
 patches of the smoothest verdure — balustred with marble steps and 
 low pillars — and watered by gushing fountains of the clearest 
 crystal ; anon diverging into labyrinths and bowers, in wliich 
 gleamed Faunus or Diana, or haply some "nymph to the bath 
 addressed," and displaying throughout the luxury and magnifi- 
 cence of the monarch (Francis L), by whom the plaisance had 
 been laid out. 
 
 The moon shone clear and cold m the highest heavens as the 
 cavalier hui'rled swiftly through this region of beauty. For one 
 instant he paused to gaze at the Aving of the Louvre fronting the 
 spot on which he stood. The casements were briglitly illuminated 
 with the torches of the fete — the music resounded blithely from 
 afar — but the masker's eye rested not upon the festive lights, nor 
 did he listen to the gay symphonies. His eye was fixed upon a 
 lamp shining like a star from one of the higher towers of the period 
 of Philip Augustus that flanked the palace, and his ear was 
 strained to catch the faint sound produced by the closing of a 
 lattice. He then plunged into a dark avenue formed by two 
 rows of cHpped yews before him. 
 
 The gardens of the Louvre were bordered on the one hand by 
 the waters of the Seine, across Avhich river-chains were drawn so as 
 to cut off all approach in this quarter, while on the other, they were 
 defended by a turreted wall and external moat, which separated it 
 from the encroaching buildings of the Rue du Coq. Emerging 
 suddenly from the alley in which he had disappeared, the ca- 
 valier stood beneath the shade of a spreading elm, whose branches 
 overtopped the wall upon which he gazed. 
 
 The figure of a sentinel, with arquebuss in hand, was seea 
 
142 CRicnr^v. 
 
 slowly parnding the ranipuvt-walk, his steel cap and habergeon 
 gleaming in the pale moonlight. To divest himself of his domino, 
 underneath which appeared a rich satin ball-room costume — to 
 swathe the folds of tlie cloak around his left arm, and with his right 
 hand pluck his poignard from its slieatli, and strike it deeply into 
 the bark of the tree, by which means he rapidly climbed it — to pass 
 along its branches — to drop within a few paces of the astonished 
 sentinel — and swift as thought to place the weapon at his throat, 
 was with the cavalier little more than the work of a moment. 
 
 So unexpected had been the assaidt, that the sentinel scarcely 
 attempted any resistance, and was so closely griped, as to be vniable 
 to raise a cry: his arquebuss was wrested from his hold, and hurled 
 into the foss ; while his antagonist, having apparently accomplished 
 his purpose in disarming him, bounded over the parapet of the 
 wall, and, clinging to the rough side of a buttress, descended with 
 the utmost velocity and certainty to the very edge of the water, 
 where, taking advantage of a projecting stone, he contrived to bring 
 both feet together, and with a single spring, cleared the wide deep 
 moat, and alighted in safety on the other side — disappearing in- 
 stantly afterwards in the far-cast shadows of the gloomy Rue du 
 Coq — and accomplishing what appeared in the eyes of the sen- 
 tin?!, Avho had watched his efTorts from above, a marvellous and 
 almost superhuman feat. 
 
 " Mille tonnerres !" exclaimed the sentinel, who had made 
 sure that the cavalier would have fallen midway into the moat, 
 rubbing his eyes in astonishment as he beheld him arrive on the 
 opposite bank, " it must be the fiend in person !" Whereupon he 
 devoutly crossed himself, adding, " no man of mortal mould, save 
 one, perchance, could have taken that leap, and he who might have 
 done it, the Scottish galliard Crichton, people say, is something 
 more than mortal. I recollect seeing him leap flve-and-twenty feet 
 in the hall of arms, but that was nothing to this moat, which, if 
 it be an inch, m.ust span nine yards, with scarcely a resting place 
 for the point of a toe to spring from — to say nothing of a run. 
 Tu-dicu ! — if it be the Chevalier Crichton, and he be not the devil, 
 he has had a narrow escape of it to-night, in more ways than one ; 
 for had he passed through any gate of the Louvre, instead of down 
 that break-neck wall, he had encountered the dagger of INIaurevert, 
 or some of Madame Catherine's mouchards. Notre-Dame ! if it 
 be Crichton, I am not sorry he has escaped, as we shall have the 
 combat to-morrow in that case. But peste ! why did he throw 
 away my arquebuss ?" 
 
 With his vain lamentation, and his vain search for his gun, we 
 shall leave the sentinel, and once more track the steps of the 
 cavalier, who had no sooner gained the shelter of the houses, than 
 he resumed his domino. Swiftly shaping his course through the 
 deserted streets, he glided along like a phantom, without encoun- 
 tering so much as a stray serjeant of the guet royal, some of whom 
 
THE HOTEL DE SOISSONS. 143 
 
 were, for tlic most part, to be met -svith at all hours in this fre- 
 quented quarter, when, at the very moment he passed it, tlie door 
 of a small tavern, the Falcon, situate where the Rue Pelican turns 
 from the Rue Saint- Honore, was suddenly thrown open, and forth 
 issued two roystering blades, members of the university, it would 
 seem from their scholastic caps and gards, who had evidently been 
 indulging in copious libations, and were now, in all probability, re- 
 treating to their place of rest for the night. 
 
 In figure, the one was tall, light, and not without a certain air 
 of dignity in his deportment. Despite its uncertainty, his step was 
 light and agile as that of a mountaineer, and about his shoulders 
 light, long, yellow hair depended in great profusion. The second 
 scholar was more squarely and stoutly built, and moved forward as 
 if urged into his present quick movement by the energy of his 
 companion. A small square cap surmomitcd a head of rough 
 brown curling hair, shading an open manly countenance, lighted 
 up by a keen gray eye, sparkling at this moment with unwonted 
 fire. His whole appearance, while it betokened the possession of 
 great personal strength, showed also that his vigour was united 
 with a sluggish temperament. With a step almost as heavy 
 as that of his master, a huge dog plodded at his heels, bearing 
 undoubted marks of his English origin. And if any doubts 
 could be entertained as to wliat country either dog or master mii^ht 
 belong, the student settled that question by roaring at the top of 
 a strenuous voice the following chaunt, in a tongue which requires 
 no translation on our part to place it before the reader. 
 
 Bit anlr ^acft. 
 I. 
 
 Your Gaul may tipple his tliin, thin wine. 
 And prate of its hue, and its fragrance fine. 
 Shall never a drop pass throat of mine 
 
 Again — again ! 
 
 His claret is meagre (but let that pass), 
 I can't say much for his liippocrass, 
 And never more will I fill my glass 
 
 With cold champagne. 
 
 il. 
 
 But froth me a flaggon of Englisli ale. 
 Stout, and old, and as amber pale, 
 Which heart and head will alike assail — 
 
 Ale— ale be mine I 
 Or brew me a pottle of sturdy sack, 
 Sherris and spice, with a toast to its back, 
 And need shall be none to bid me attack 
 
 That drink divine! 
 
 The reader will have been at no loss to discover in tncse 
 
144 CRICHTON. 
 
 Students his somewhat neglected friends Ogilvy and Blount. 
 To the cavalier also they would appear to be equally well known, 
 for lie instantly joined them, addressing the former by his name. 
 Ogilvy at once came to a halt, uttering an exclamation of delight 
 and astonishment. " You are fortunately encountered, Jasper," 
 said the cavalier ; " you can serve me." 
 
 " Show me but how !" exclaimed Ogilvy — " my arm shall second 
 your wishes." 
 
 " If your head have discretion enough to guide it, I am assured 
 It will," returned the cavalier; *' but the enterprise on which I am 
 bent requires coolness as well as courage, and you were better able 
 to assist me had your libations been poured from the fountain 
 rather than from the wine-flask." 
 
 " Our libations have been poured forth in honour of the victor 
 of the University of Paris — of the admirable Crichton," returned 
 Ogilvy, somewhat reproachfully, " and if blame is to be attached 
 to our carouse, he who is the cause of it must be content to bear 
 the burthen. My pulse beats quick 'tis true, but my brain is 
 calm enough — and if need be, I will plunge into the first well we 
 encounter on our road." 
 
 "And I," said Blount, " have little to observe, noble sir, except 
 that I will follow you wherever you list to lead me. The wines I have 
 swallowed — as sour as Flemish beer, with (Heaven save the mark !) 
 your honoured name upon my lips ; and the stupifying lierbe a la 
 reme, as these Frenchmen call their tobacco leaves, which I have 
 puffed away, may have muddled my intellects; but they have not 
 extinguished my courage. I can if need be, put some guard upon 
 my tongue, having no great fancy for talking at any time. And I 
 can still (I would fain hope) wield staff or sword, as occasion may 
 require, to some purpose. But if I should fail in my devoir, there 
 is a follower at my heels, whose brain is at all seasons as bright as 
 my own ; who is no toper, and who will serve you loyally tooth 
 and nail What ho, Druid !" 
 
 A deep-toned growl from the dog answered h^ master's call. 
 
 " Brave dog," said the cavalier, patting the animal's leathern side, 
 "would thou couldst go with me !" 
 
 '* By Saint Dunstan ! he shall go with you if you desire it, worthy 
 sir," rejoined Blount. 
 
 *' Will he leave, then, his master," asked the cavalier incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 " He will do aught I bid him," answered Blount. " Here, 
 sirrah," and stooping for an instant, he muttered somewhat in 
 Druid's ear, accompanying his intimation with an emphatic gesture, 
 perfectly intelligible, it would seem, to the dog, who instantly 
 quitted his side, and attached himself to that of the cavalier. *^ He 
 will not quit you now till I recall him," said Blount, " Druid knows 
 his duty as well as the most trusty retainer."" 
 
 "His sagacity is indeed wonderful," sai the cavalier, "and I 
 
CriciiLon's .rencojji 
 
THE HOTEL DE SOISSONS. 145 
 
 thank you for your confidence in trusting me with so valued a 
 iriend. But I pray you to recall your boon. The risk I run is 
 imminent." 
 
 " I have given you my dog as a gage, noble sir," returned Blount, 
 firmly, " and I may as well throw my own life into the bargain, 
 seeing I would ahnost as soon part with one as the other. I 
 give you both, therefore, freely. Be the result of this adventure — 
 whither tending, to what concerning I know not — what it may, 
 it matters not ; my prayers are soon said ; my tenure to this world 
 is but slight, and I h.ave never yet heard of the danger I would 
 not confront. In which respect 1 am somewhat of honest Druid's 
 opinion, who holds all antagonists unworthy of his teeth who will 
 not rouse his ire ; and who will not turn his back on any beast that 
 ever walked. Lead on, sir, I have that within mc, that prompts 
 me to be doing." 
 
 *' And you, Jasper Ogilvv ?" — 
 
 A tight grasp of the cavaher's hand was all Ogllvy's answer. 
 
 *' Enouirh !" said the leader, hastenincr forward. 
 
 And as they proceeded with the same rapid pace as heretofore, 
 the mask briefly developed his project. " And so the Gcloso, 
 whom that assassin Spaniard stabbed, turns out to be a girl after 
 all," said Ogilvy. — " By Saint Andrew, the interest I i'elt in her 
 behalf is not so unaccountable as I conceived it to be. Bight 
 gladly Avill I lend a hand to her deliverance from this cursed astro- 
 logers roost, and i'rom her persecutor. I marvelled much to see 
 you in that mask and guise, but now 'tis all explained. Vou are 
 in the right to undertake her rescue ; and were none other to be 
 found, I would alone attempt it. A maiden — by my troth 'tis 
 passiuiij strange." 
 
 " Not so strange, friend Jasper," remarked the Englishman, 
 laughing ; " as the change which this metamorphosis, in point of 
 sex, appears to have wrought in thy sentiments. This morning 
 thou hadst a holy horror, Avorthy of John Knox himself, of every 
 thing savouring of a player. iS^ow, when a pair of bright eyes 
 stare thee in the flice, thou carest not to avow thine errors. Ah ! 
 I fear thou art lidlen into the wiles of the enemy. Those dark 
 looks and dark eyes are but snares, Jasper, and her calling is a 
 vain one." 
 
 " Tush," returned Ogilvy, *' my abomination of her calling is 
 not a whit diminished. And if I have expressed any concern 
 respecting her, it is because — " 
 
 '* She iinds favour in thine eyes — I am at no loss to perceive it," 
 rejoined the Englishman. 
 
 " No such thing," answered Ogilvy, sharply ; " and if you 
 repeat that assertion, IMaster Blount, I shall think you desire to 
 put an affront upon me. I repeat I care not for the girl. 
 Of a verity slie liatk charms. But what of that ? INIarian Gra- 
 ham, to whom I plighted my troth, hath a far sweeter smiiO: 
 
 L 
 
146 CRICHTON. 
 
 thougla her eyes may not be so bright, or her tresses so near rival 
 io the raA^en's wing. I care not for her — nay, now I bethink me 
 of her calhng, were it not the pleasure of my patron and friend 
 that I should accompany him upon this adventure, she mio-ht even 
 tarry with Ruggieri in his tower, for any effort I would make to 
 release her." 
 
 " Your want of interest in her occasions some slight discrepancy 
 in your sentiments^ Jasper," returned Blount, laughing; " but 
 since you find the matter irksome, leave it to us, and return to the 
 Ecossais. We will accomplish the adventure alone, I warrant 
 you." 
 
 "No!" exclaimed Ogilvy, impatiently; "it shall never be 
 said — " And he was proceeding witli some warmth, when his 
 speech was cut short by the cavalier, who addressed him with some 
 coolness — " It was not without reason, Jasper, that I told thee thy 
 tongue was scarcely under the control of thy reason. I may not 
 accept of thy assistance, if I am to purchase it at the hazard of 
 failure." 
 
 Thus rebuked, the choleric Scot held his peace, and the party 
 moved on for some moments in silence. 
 
 Arrived within the Rue des Deux-Ecus, at that time shadowed 
 by the tall trees which formed the avenues and groves of Catherine's 
 stately gardens, the cavalier, pointing out the high Belvidere of the 
 vast Palladian structure, constituting the Hotel de la Reine, now 
 distinctly defined against the fleecy clouds of the moon-Ht sky, 
 exclaimed, " You now behold the castle of the enchantress. I 
 have not disguised the peril you will incur by entering it. "Will 
 you go on ?" 
 
 Both answered in the afiirmative. The party, therefore, turned 
 the corner of the palace, and entering the adjoining Rue du 
 Four, along one side of which its lofty walls ran, the principal 
 front of the magnificent building, and its grand portal, erected by 
 Bullan upon the model of the Farnese Palace at Caprarola (upon 
 which an immense shield of marble displayed the blazon and 
 cypher of the queen-mother), were at once brought into view. In 
 that still hour, and m that mysterious light, there was something 
 ominous in the appearance of the gigantic building which stood 
 before them. Perliaps, in no instance was the superstition of 
 Catherine's character more strongly evidenced, than in the con- 
 struction of this proud but needless palace — needless, we say, 
 because she had already expended vast sums upon the erection of 
 the Tuileries, ha^vdng after her husband's death abandoned the 
 Tournelles, when terrified by the predictions of her astrologers, 
 who foretold that she would perish in some place bearing the name 
 of Saint Germain ; and the Tuileries unfortunately happening to 
 bo in the parish of Saint Germain PAuxerrois — for this idle reason 
 unly did she abandon the glorious edifice of her own construction, 
 a^'l at an infinitude of trouble, accompanied by prodigious outlays, 
 
THE HOTEL DE SOISSONS. 147 
 
 required when her exhausted funds could ill brook such wanton 
 expenditure, together with the secularisation of an abbey and the 
 overturning of a nunnery (Lcs Filles Penitentes), for which pur- 
 poses she had to procure bulls from the Pope ; on this account 
 alone, we say, did she proceed to cumber the ground with this 
 huge structure — not a stone of wliicli is now left standing, with 
 the exception of the column or observatory attached to its courts, 
 toward which building we are shortly about to repair, and shall 
 then more particularly describe. It may not, perhaps, be here 
 altogether out of place to mention, as a sequel to the story, a cir- 
 cumstance which has been much dwelt upon by the supporters of 
 judicial astrology, and which would almost seem to verify the 
 propliecy of her soothsayer: viz., that Catherine, notwithstanding 
 all her precautions, eventually expired in the arms of iSaint Ger- 
 main Favyn, Bishop of Nazareth, chief confessor to lier son, 
 Henri III. 
 
 The party now approached the grand portal, before which was 
 arrayed a guard of some half-dozen musketeers with their ser- 
 geant at their head — the royal blazon upon their doublets glim- 
 mering in the moonlight — who placed their long musketoons in 
 the rests, and blew their lighted tow-matches as they drew nigli ; 
 ■while the sergeant, in a loud tone, commanded a halt. 
 
 A brief parley ensued. But, perceiving the queen's glove dis- 
 played upon the cap of the cavalier, the sergeant immediately 
 drew his men aside and suffered them to pass. The gate was 
 unbarred at their summons, and as the porter somewhat slowly 
 performed his office, the following remarks from the sergeant 
 reached the cars of the cavalier and his companions — 
 
 " Vcntrebleu ! Chopin — we have a strange night of it. We 
 are set here to prevent Ruggieri's escape, and it seems as if he had 
 called all the fiends in Tartarus to his aid. First comes that mask 
 and seeks admittance : we refuse him. Anon he comes again with 
 a crowd of imps blacker than himself, demanding the deliverance 
 of a player girl. Then, for a third time he appears, with the king's 
 signet, which we dare not disobey, and gains admission with his 
 comrades. Well ! no sooner do we think we are rid of him, than, 
 by Proteus ! here he is again, with a couple of familiars in the 
 shape of scholars, and a dog the like of which I never saw before. 
 Diable m'emporte ! if I can understand it. One thing is clear, 
 he has got the queen's license, and so we must not say him nay, but 
 he must have the devil's watch-word if he would return again, for, 
 by holy Peter! he comes not forth without a bullet to try the proof 
 of his pourpoint." 
 
 " Heard you not that ?" Avhispered the cavalier, " our foe is be- 
 forehand with us. Not a moment is to be lost." 
 
 The porter started, as he beheld the mask, and involuntarily 
 placed his hand before his eyes to ascertain whether or not his 
 vision deceived him. He bowed, however, to the ground as he 
 
 L 2 
 
148 CRICHTON 
 
 recognised the ensign of tlie queen-motlier, and tlie next moment 
 the party found themselves within the court-yard of the palace. 
 
 Before them stretched a smooth parterre, in the midst of which, 
 bathed in the moonlight, glimmered a lovely statue of the Queen. 
 of Love, the workmanship of the famous sculptor Jean Goujon, 
 the restorer of the art in his own country, and surnamed the Phi- 
 dias of France, who perished by the hands of Charles IX., 
 at the massacre of Saint Barthelemy. But it was not to gaze on 
 this miracle of art that the cavalier now paused. Neither was it 
 to admire the gorgeous and illuminated windows of Catherine's 
 embowered chapel — the then wonder of Paris — to listen to the 
 choral hymn resounding from its shrines, and breaking the mid- 
 night stillness around them — nor to note the majestic towers of 
 Saint Eustache, which commanded the spot whereon they stood. 
 Pointing out a tall column which might be discerned spiring from 
 out a grove that skirted an extensive esplanade, and indicating the 
 path that led to it through the gardens of the palace, the cavalier 
 was about to quit his companions, when Ogilvy's quick ej'e detected 
 figures o-liding at some distance from them amoncjst the trees. 
 
 COO ^ ^ O 
 
 " They are yonder, by Saint Andrew !" exclaimed the Scot, 
 '* there is yet time." 
 
 Scarcely had the words escaped him ere the cavalier disap- 
 peared ; and the two scholars instantly commenced a pursuit of the 
 ligures they had descried. Druid regarded his master wistfully 
 for a moment, but receiving a fresh command from him to that 
 effect, put himself upon the track of the cavalier. 
 
 The doors of the hotel were opened to the cavalier's summons. 
 Not a word was exchanged between him and the ushers, from one 
 of whom he received a torch. Alone he passed through a magni- 
 ficent hall, the ceiling of which was decorated with exquisite 
 frescoes — ascended a vast staircase of carved oak, and entered a 
 long and glorious gallery crowded with trophies and panoplies 
 collected by the chivalrous Henri IL, and streaming with painted 
 glass, " blushing with blood of queens and kings." This gallery 
 he swiftly traversed, and finally reached a recess, within which, as 
 Catherine had informed him, were placed three bronze statues. 
 Touching the spear of the central figure, it yielded to his pressure, 
 disclosing a dark and tortuous passage, into which the cavalier 
 unhesitatingly plunged 
 
149 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE LABOIIATORT. 
 
 Foresight. But I liavc travelled in the celestial spheres, know the signs, and 
 plaiKits, and their names — can jutljie of motions direct and retrosirade ; of sextiles, 
 quadrates, trines, and oppositions, liery trigons, and aquatical trigons. 
 
 CoNGREVE. Love for Love. 
 
 Leaving the cavalier to pursue his subterranean path alone, we 
 shall endeavour, in the meantime, to give the reader some idea of 
 the singular scene that awaited his arrival in tlie laboratory of the 
 astrologer. 
 
 Let him picture to liimself a high vaulted chamber, cylindrical 
 in shape, massive in construction, dungeon-hkc in aspect. Let 
 him darken its gray granite walls with smoke — erect within it four 
 pilasters, and decorate the lluted shafts of each witli crowns, lleurs- 
 de-lis, broken mirrors, horns of abundance, and with the letters (IT. 
 and ?i,'J. interlaced and surrounded with love-knots, devices emble- 
 matic of the widowhood and queenly state of the builder of the 
 turret. Let him next place witb.in each subdivision of the wall, 
 created by these pillars, talismanic eliigies of superstitious import, 
 and lest his fancy should not be wild or extravagant enough to 
 supply sculpture sufficiently grotesque, we will endeavour to give 
 some direction to it. hi the nrst compartment, then, let him 
 imagine " a kingly and crowned shape" seated astride upon an 
 eagle ; grasping in one baud a thunderbolt, and in the other a 
 sceptre ; Avhile a female figure, beaked like the Ibis, holds to his 
 gaze an enchanted jnirror. Let him surround tins group Avith 
 hieroglyphics and cabalistic characters, and engrave beneath it the 
 word fl^ncitcl: the intelligence of Satan. \\\ the next compart- 
 ment let him place another female shape of rare beautv, witli 
 dishevelled hair, grasping in the right hand a serpent, and in the 
 left a singularly Ibrmed kniie — let him encircle this medallion Avith 
 Hebrev/ and Chaldaic sentences, and inscribe at the head iictlCincl 
 — the spirit of Venus ; and at the feet ^SlUOtlcI — one of the 
 twelve angelic governors of the celestial signs. "We may add, 
 also, that these tahsmans, esteemed of sovereign virtue, and of 
 power to aid in the acquisition of mystical lore, were composed of 
 divers metals, molten when the constellations presiding over the 
 nativity of the queen, by whose command they were fabricated, 
 lield sway ; and were soldered together with human gore, and the 
 blood ot goats. The third compartment is occupied by a group 
 yet more fantastical. Here may be seen an altar of ivory, against 
 \yhich is placed a crimson cushion sustaining a huge cruciHx of 
 silver, inclosing a lesser cross of ebony. On either side stands 
 a satyr, wrouglit in bixsnze, supporting his rugged person with a 
 
150 CRICHTON. 
 
 club, and bearing upon his shoulder a vase of pure and shining 
 crystal, containing certain unknown drugs, destined, it would ap- 
 pear, for some impious oblation to the Evil One at the celebration 
 of the Sorcerers' Sabbath. 
 
 Within the fourth and last compartment some mystery is evi- 
 dently shrouded beneath the close-drawn folds of a thick and 
 gloomy curtain. 
 
 Ruggieri's laboratory would have been incomplete had it wanted 
 ■what, in the jargon of hermetic philosophy, would be termed the 
 keeper of secrets, the producer of immortal fire, the athanor, or 
 furnace. Behold it ! — in shape round, as directed by the formula 
 of the science, capped and winged on either side with a thin tube, 
 with door and Avindow, brazen plate, mattrass, and cucurbite 
 complete. Upon the furnace door, this profane application of the 
 sacred text has been made — " QucBvite, qucerite ct invenieds, ■pulsate 
 et apcrietur vobis." Around the square pane of the little window 
 is traced the following enigmatical inscription, the solution of 
 which must be left to tlie reader's ingenuity : — 
 
 Nunc dimittis Super furidamenta 
 Fiindamenta Super verba mea 
 Verba mea Super diligam te 
 Diligain te Super attendite. 
 
 Upon the furnace is placed a gourd-shaped, bolt-headed glass vessel, 
 hermetically scaled, and filled with a red fluid, the label of which 
 purports to be lac virginis. Next to this stands another cucurbite 
 plunged ill balneo, containing a specific prepared according to the 
 recipes of Flarael, Artephius, Pontanus, and Zacharius, for the 
 cure of all astral diseases. Affixed to the copper vessel, deno- 
 minated Saint Mary's Bath, in which this bolt-head is deposited, 
 is the following inscription : 
 
 Maria mira sonat 
 Quae nobis talia donat 
 Gummis cum biuis 
 Fugitivum fugit iuimis 
 Horis in trinis, 
 Tria vinclat f'ortia finis 
 Fiiia Plutonis 
 Consortia jungit amoris. 
 
 On the floor near to the furnace is strewn all the heterogeneous 
 lumber proper to the retreat of an adept : to wit, earths, metals, 
 " vitriol, sal-tartar, argaile, alkali," gums, oils, retorts, alembics, 
 " crosslets, crucibles, and cucurbites." Nor must we omit a slab of 
 black marble, on which are deposited certain drugs and small 
 phials, together with a vizard of glass, a circumstance sufficiently 
 attesting the subtle and deadly nature of the tinctures sometimes 
 extracted by the inmate of the chamber. 
 
 Having thus put the reader in possession of the features of the 
 room, we shall now place before him its occupants. 
 
THE LABORATORY. 151 
 
 At a table, quaint and grotesque in its character as the rest of 
 the furniture, lighted by the dull red flame of a silver lamp, 
 furnished with an hour-glass and a scull, with a mystical scroll 
 stretched out before him, and apparently buried in deep cal- 
 culations in a high-backed oaken chair, wrought with the same 
 bizarre devices as the table, sat an old man in a black velvet garb 
 with flowing sleeves — whose livid countenance and bald furrowed 
 brow, clotlicd with a velvet scull-cap, proclaimed him to be the 
 presiding influence of this weird abode. Beside Ruggieri sat 
 another stately figure, in whose hai:ghty, imperious demeanour and 
 proud brow tlae reader, we apprehend, will have no difiiculty in 
 recognising the queen-mother. 
 
 Underneath the table, and almost appearing with his broad, 
 hunched shoulders to lend it support, glared tlie dwarf, Elberich ; 
 his red luminous eyes sparkling like phosphoric coruscations in the 
 gloom. Nothing of the mannikin's swart and shapeless figure could 
 bo discerned in the obscurity, beyond the outline, Avhicli resembled 
 that of a grisly bear. But his hand would seem to grasp the 
 wheel of some hidden machinery, serving to raise a trap-door, 
 carefully contrived within the floor of the turret. At the dwarf's 
 feet was rolled, what appeared to be a roimd furry ball, but 
 Avhich, in reality, was a small black cat, of the civet species : 
 an animal held in great request by the ancient necromancers for 
 the confection and perfection of various charms, a certain pebble 
 lodged beneath its tongue, being supposed to confer the gift of 
 vaticination. 
 
 At the moment when we raise the curtain of this picture for the- 
 reader's inspection, the group we have portrayed Avas silent and 
 motionless. Ruggieri pursued his calculations with earnest zeal; 
 and the progress of his studies was watched with intense interest by 
 the queen-mother. The dwarf remained immoveable as an ebon 
 image. Nothing but the flashing of his eye-balls betokened ani- 
 mation. 
 
 Suddenly a sharp musical ring was heard vibrating in the air, 
 like the sound produced by a glass vessel accidentally stricken. Tlie 
 «5[uecn-mother raised her eyes, and fixed them upon a curiously 
 constructed astrological instrument, placed on a stand in her imme- 
 diate vicinity. Framed according to the instructions delivered by 
 the star-wise seers of antiquity, this machine represented seven 
 figures symbolical of the planets (whom ^Nlcrcurius Trismegistus 
 calls the seven Governors of the World) — wrought with inlinite 
 labour and cost when each orb was in ascendance, of the most 
 precious stones, earths, and metals, supposed to be under its 
 especial influence. The figure upon whicli Catherine*'s gaze now 
 turned was that of an armed man of ruddy brass, mounted upon 
 a lion of the same metal, 2:raspin<2: in Jiis rijrht hand a naked 
 Bword, and m his lelt a trunkless head, carved in a blood-stone. 
 Upon the helm of this martial image flamed a beryl; and in 
 
152 CRICHIOX. 
 
 its slow ascent, the weapon within its grasp coming in contact with 
 a bell-shaped glass above it, had given the alarum. 
 
 '* The mask comes not,'' exclaimed Catherine, regarding the 
 image with some dismay. *' Bright Jove hath no more dominion, 
 we are now under the rule of fiery Mavors — a planet of ma- 
 lignant aspect towards us." 
 
 "True, my daughter," returned the astrologer. '*And see the 
 red orb ascends within the second face of Aries. Would he had 
 arrived ere this conjunction had occurred! Our scheme will 
 scarcely prosper." 
 
 "Say not so, father," replied Catherine, confidently: "If 
 Crichton perish we sliall have achieved much towai'ds its accom- 
 plishment. And when did thy tinctures, or Maurevert's poignard 
 fail us ?'' 
 
 " If the blow be dealt, or the potion swallowed, never, my 
 daughter, but — " 
 
 " But what, father ? Why these misgivings ?" 
 
 " The heavenly configurations presage danger to the Scot, not 
 death," answered the astrologer, gravely. " For, though in his 
 horoscope the giver of life meets with the interficient at this hour ; 
 though the lord of the fourth house is in conjunction with the lord 
 of the ascendant in Aries, within the orbs of a square of Saturn ; and 
 Capricorn descends upon the cusp of the eighth ; yet there are other 
 strong and countervailing signs. He may escape us, daughter." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Catherine. 
 
 " Methinks I see his star still shining in the heavens," continued 
 Ruggieri ; " majestic and serene it traverses the skies. A halo of 
 glory surrounds it. Malignant and cross aspects dart their baneful 
 rays athwart its track. In vain they scowl. Jt pursues its course 
 in splendour undisturbed." 
 
 " Does thine art tell thee this?" demanded Catherine, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " My silent and unerring counsellors thus admonish me, my 
 daughter," replied the astrologer, " I am but their interpreter." 
 
 " Say on, tlien," continued Catherine, coldly. 
 
 " The star has become a meteor," returned Ruggieri. " Its 
 lustre is blinding." 
 
 "What more ?" 
 
 " I gaze again. The heavens are void and dark: the meteor 
 ihat dazzled me has sunk — the star of Crichton has set for ever." 
 
 " And when will this occur ?" 
 
 " Ere half a lustre shall have elapsed, my daughter." 
 
 " So long ! and how will his doom be accomplished ?" 
 
 " The sign is fiery, and Saturn the afflicting planet," returned 
 ihe astrologer. " Within his leaden sphere Hylech is cadent. The 
 native will perish by the edge of the sword." 
 
 " And if the unerring counsellors tell thee thus much concerning 
 this Scot, what import do they bring touching ihine own fate?" 
 
j'PE LABORATORY. 153 
 
 " Shall I erect a scheme, my daughter?'' 
 
 " It were needless,'^ returned the queen-mother, sternly, " I will 
 read it for thee. Thy destiny is hnked Avith that of Crichton. 
 Or he or thou wilt perish. If he survive the night the stake will 
 be thy portion on the morrow ; I Avill not stretch forth my hand, 
 as heretofore, to redeem thee from the wheel." 
 
 " ■'^•'y gi'acious mistress ! — " 
 
 *' If the heavenly influences fail thee, wrest aid from darker 
 powers. Summon to thy assistance by potent spells, such as thou 
 boastest to have won from thy magical lore, a demon, like that 
 which served the wise Cardan ; and bid him smite thine enemy. 
 For, by my soul, if Crichton live to annihilate my projects, thy 
 ashes shall be strewn by the winds over the Place de Greve, ere 
 night once again draw lier veil over the city 1" 
 
 " The gnome who served the wise physician you have named, 
 replied liuggieri, firmly, "had not power over life. Jerome 
 Cardan could foresee, but not avert ; and yet he was Avell versed 
 in the language of the stars. When he foretold that your august 
 spoufc, Henri II., was menaced with a fearful and sudden death, he 
 could not unfold the means of its avoidance ; neither could his 
 art turn aside the fatal lance of Montgomery. The end of the 
 illustrious monarch was decreed on high. And when my long 
 communing with the celestial intelligences informs me that your 
 own great career Avill close within the limits of Saint-Germain, I 
 can do no more than point to the term of destiny. It is not enough, 
 that your majesty has abandoned the Tournclles and Tuileries ; nor 
 that you abstain from setting loot within the district bearing that 
 name ; your destiny will infallibly be accomplished, despite your 
 precautions. I have promised you length of days, power, and 
 dominion ; and my prognostications will be fulfilled. But the 
 means of their fulfilment rests with myself I have shown you how 
 your dominion may be maintained, your power extended, and by 
 what means length of days may be ensured. If I perish, your 
 honours, your rule, your sway over the king, your power will depart 
 from you, and moulder like a worm-eaten truncheon into dust. 
 Deliver me to my enemies, and ere a week have elapsed, I predict 
 that Louise de Vaudemont will have absolute sway over her hus- 
 band's affections. Joyeuse will be in power, the League destroyed, 
 Guise and his partisans, who indirectly aid your schemes, crushed ; 
 Henri of Navarre and the Huguenots will regain their strength in 
 Paris, and your majesty will be without a party, and perchance in 
 exile with your son the Due D'Alen^on. These results, which I 
 foresee, my skill enables me to avert ; and when my dust whitens 
 the pavement of the Place de Greve, and your foes exult in your 
 downfall, you will then call to mind mv warning." 
 
 Catherine uttered a single exclamation of displeasure, but she 
 offered no interruption to the astrologer. 
 
154 CRicriTON. 
 
 " To summon a spirit of darkness were matter of little difficulty," 
 continued Rugp;ieri, who had entirely regained his confidence, " to 
 him who possesses the treasured hieroglyphics of Nicholas Flamel 
 — who can draw the names of the evil angels from Holy Writ, as 
 did the learned Hebrew Mecubuls — who can search the ancient 
 Chaldean sages for a genius in the rays of Sol or Luna — who un- 
 derstands the characters and seals of spirits, the kingly writing of 
 the ]Malachim, that which is termed by the soothsayers of the east 
 ' the passing of the river,' and the Notariacon of the Cabalists. 
 But a spirit invoked without due preparation, like the extraction 
 by yon athanor of the argcnt-vif, in which strange colours, called 
 out of season, endanger the magisterium, may, in lieu of assistance, 
 bring destruction. Nevertheless, if your majesty desires it, I will 
 prepare to raise a phantasm, proceeding according to the directions 
 of Apollonius, Triphonius, Albertus, and Raimundus Lulllus, and 
 shall make use of the signs given by the wise Porphyrins in his 
 occult treatise ' De Responsis,' " 
 
 " 1 do not desire such evidence of thy skill," returned Cathe- 
 rine, coldly. " Choose some more convenient season for thy con- 
 sultations with the powers of darkness. I would not have my 
 own soul placed in jeopardy by such unhallowed intercourse. But 
 if thou hast, in truth, a familiar spirit who serves tliee, he r-hould 
 have guarded thee against thine enemy. Crlcliton should never 
 have found entrance here." 
 
 " Crichton obtained admittance by stratagem, gracious madam 
 — I was at the moment engaged in tending the wounds of the 
 Gelosa, and Elberich for the first time neglected his trust. The 
 Scot had seized the image and the scroll ere I could prevent him, 
 or destroy them." 
 
 " And by Ills acquaintance with the character of that scroll, he is 
 master of all our intrigues with the Guise and the Bourbon — of our 
 communication with his holiness, and above all, of the hidden pur- 
 port of our mission to Mantua — " 
 
 "He is, madam ?" 
 
 " And he is aware of this mask's connection with our plot — of 
 the part which he was destined to play in aiding our son, the Due 
 D'Alengon, to the throne of his brother Henry — all this thou hadst 
 set down in thy accursed document." 
 
 " It were vain to attempt to disguise my inadvertence from your 
 majesty — I had done so." 
 
 '* And by consequence, he is acquainted with the name and rank 
 of tills mask." 
 
 '* Unquestionably, madam." 
 
 " And does my name — mark me, Ruggierl — answer, and equi- 
 vocate not, — does my name, I say, appear in connection with that 
 of the Due D'Alen9on in the plot for Henri's dethronement ?" 
 
 '* No, madam," returned Ruggieri, boldly. 
 
 *• Art thou sure of this ?" 
 
THE LABORATORY. 155 
 
 ** As cf my existence." 
 
 "Cosmo RuG:f>;ieri, thou hast sealed thine own fate." 
 
 " How, madam ?" 
 
 *' The king requires a victim. I must make a virtue of ncces 
 ^ty. Justice must take its course upon the morrow." 
 
 " And your majesty will surrender me to the tribunal?" 
 
 '* If Henry demand it, I cannot ofTer resistance." 
 
 " Have you reflected on the consequences of such a step, 
 madam?" returned Kuggieri, with sullen audacity. 
 
 *' The consequences — ha !" 
 
 " The question may enforce strange truths from me." 
 
 " Who will credit an accusation from thee — and against me — if 
 ■written proof exist not ?" 
 
 Tlie furrows upon Ruggieri's sallow brow were Avrinkled into 
 a bitter smile. 
 
 " But if written proof slwidd exist, madam — if I can produce 
 your own despatches — subscribed with your own hand, sealed with 
 your own signet ?" 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " If I can exhibit your own confessions that you have poisoned 
 two of yoiir sons, and are now conspiring to dethrone a third — 
 what appearance will the charge assume tlien, madam ?" 
 
 " Hast thou not destroyed my letters V" demanded Catherine, 
 trembling with wrath — '•' but no — no — 'tis false — thou triflcst with 
 me." 
 
 " Behold them !" cried Ruggicri, drawing a packet from hig 
 bosom. 
 
 " Traitor !'' exclaimed Catherine, " thou hast preserved those 
 papers to betray me." 
 
 " No, madam," replied Huggieri — " but to protect myself. I 
 have served your majesty faithfully. I have betrayed no trust 
 confided in me ; and the rack sliall tear me limb from limb ere it 
 shall wrest word from me to your dishonour. Deliver me to Henri's 
 tribunal. Surrender me to the Chambre Ardente — and do so fear- 
 lessly. Here are your papers." 
 
 " I was indeed mistaken in thee, Ruggieri," rejoined the queen- 
 mother, moved. — " While aught of power remains to me, not a 
 hair of thy head shall be injured." 
 
 " I have ever found you a noble and generous mistress," cried 
 the crafty astrologer, respectfully kissing the hand which Catherine 
 extended to him. 
 
 " Commit this packet to the flames, my loyal servant," said 
 Catherine, "it may fall into other and less loyal hands than thine." 
 
 " Before I do so, will it please your majesty to examine its con- 
 tents ?" returned Ruggieri. " There are certain papers which you 
 may not choose to have destroyed." 
 
 " I know of nothing I should care to preserve," said Catherine, 
 
158 CRIOHTOX 
 
 musing. " Speak if tliere be auglit I call not to mind, good 
 father." 
 
 " Amongst other matters, that packet contains the proofs of 
 Esclairmonde's birth, which may be needful, should your majesty 
 ever reinstate the fortunes of her house — or use her as a hostage 
 against the Huguenot party — ^' 
 
 " True — true," replied Catherine, *' give them to me — these 
 proofs are needed now. I must lay them before Henri. 1 must 
 reveal to him the secret of her birth. I observed to-night, that he 
 looked with eyes of devotion upon the demoiselle. Thy enchant- 
 ments have wrought upon him in a quarter least expected. I must 
 caution him against further advances." 
 
 " Ahreman grant your caution come not too late, madam," said 
 Ruggieri ; "his majesty is greatly enamoured ; and he hath a rival, 
 moreover, to give a spur to his passion." 
 
 "Indeed !" exclaimed the queen-mother, '"'who has dared to 
 approach my protegee in the character of a lover ?" 
 
 " He who dares every thing." 
 
 " Thou canst not allude to Crichton ?'' 
 
 " I have his majesty's assurance that the accursed Scot is her 
 favoured suitor,^' returned Ruggieri. 
 
 " Insolent !" exclaimed Catherine ; " and yet I might have 
 guessed as much from Marguerite's vindictive ravings, with which 
 I thought Esclairmonde's name was strangely coupled." 
 
 " His majesty has, no doubt, carried his design into execution, 
 and roused the suspicions of the Queen of Navarre," returned the 
 astrologer ; "he threatened as much in my liearing." 
 
 "Doubtless he hath done so," answered Catherine ; "and if 
 jealousy befriend us with Marguerite, little more is to be feared 
 from Crichton. On that score we need entertain no further appre- 
 hension. Thy phial was entrusted to her — " 
 
 " To Marguerite ?" exclaimed Ruggieri, uneasily. 
 
 " Upon a solemn pledge, which she dares not disobey. Be 
 tranquil — Crichton will trouble us no more." 
 
 " A woman s will may waver," muttered Ruggieri, " of all your 
 sex, your majesty is the only one I have met with possessing in- 
 flexibility of purpose." 
 
 At this instant a sound was heard within the wall of the apart- 
 ment, as it a key were turned within the wards of a lock. 
 
 " He comes !" eiaculated Catherine, joyfully — " all is Avell." 
 
 And the next moment a door, so carefully conoealed within the 
 masonry of the turret as to be wholly undistinguishable, was thrown 
 open, and the masked cavalier stood before them. Druid lollowed 
 at his heels 
 
(^"^' 
 
157 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 THE INCANTATION. 
 
 Voulez-vous en etre convaincu tout ii I'licure (reprit le Comtc) sans tant de fa- 
 cons! Jeni'cn vasfiiire venir les Sylphesde Cardan, vous cntendrez deleiir propre 
 nouche ce qu'ils sont, et ce que je vous en ay ai>piis. 
 
 Le Cojite de Gabalis. Qtiat/ilme Entretien. 
 
 A COURTEOUS greeting passed between the cavalier and the 
 queen-mother ; but inicquivocal symptoms of dissatisfaction were 
 exliibited by the dwarf and his fehnc companion at Druid's intru- 
 sion into tlicir domain. Bristhng, spitting, and erecting her back, 
 the cat, Hke an enraged virago, seemed prepared to attack tlie 
 stranger with tooth and talon, while the dwarf, no less offended, 
 searched about for some more formidable weapon of offence. 
 Druid, however, taking up his position at the feet of his new mas- 
 ter, treated these hostile demonstrations with disdain, kcepinf^ his 
 glowing eyes fixed upon the movements of the astrologer, in 
 whom he appeared to recognise an enemy. 
 
 Catherine's first inquiries from the cavalier were, whether he 
 had been present at the royal supper ; and receiving a reply in the 
 affirmative, she continued her interrogations ; " and your adversary 
 was there likewise," she asked, " was he not ?" 
 
 " He was, madam," answered the mask. 
 
 *' Did he occupy the seat wont to be reserved for him bv our 
 daughter Marguerite ?" demanded Catherine, eagcrlv. 
 
 " The Chevalier Crichton was placed next to the Queen of Na- 
 varre," returned the mask. 
 
 " And she — she pledged him — did you observe so much, 
 signer ?" 
 
 " I saw the wine poured out. I heard your daughter's whis- 
 pered pledge. Crichton raised the cup to his lips — " 
 
 " Now the Virgin be praised !" exclaimed Catherine, trium- 
 phantly ; " that draught has rendered him immortal. Ruggieri, 
 the stars have deceived thee. Thine horoscope was false. Thy 
 potion hath been swallowed. Our enemy is removed. You are 
 right welcome, signer. You bring us glad tidings. I promised 
 •you you shoidd learn more of Crichton's fate wdien you came 
 hither. That cup — " 
 
 " Was poisoned," rejoined the mask ; " I know it, madam." 
 
 " Ha 1 — was its effect so sudden ? — Is he then dead ?" 
 
 ♦' He lives." 
 
 « Lives !" 
 
 " A jewel within his ring gave him timely warning of his dan- 
 ger. The deadly potion did not pass his lips." 
 
 ** Confusion!" exclaimed Catherine. "^ 13ut though the poison 
 
158 CRICDTON. 
 
 has failed, twenty poignards invest the Louvre — he cannot avoid 
 them all." 
 
 " Cricliton has quitted the Louvre, and is yet in safety," returned 
 the mask ; " he has baflled the vigilance of your spies." 
 
 " My horoscope deceived me not, you find, good daughter,' 
 said Ruggieri, who, despite the ill success of their schemes, could 
 not repress his exultation at this testimony to his astrological skill, 
 — " ]\Iy apprehensions were not groundless." 
 
 " Peace !" cried the queen-mother, " when I requested your 
 attendance here, signor, it was to confer on matters of more 
 moment than this Scot's escape, and 1 crave yoiir pardon ]f 1 
 dwell too much upon it. I am not accustomed to defeat. Mo- 
 ther of Heaven ! it would not now surprise me if this minion of 
 fortune, deeming himself invincible, and puffed up by his success, 
 should adventure hither and attempt the rescue of the Gelosa — as 
 he vaunted he would do, in the presence of my son's assembled 
 court. Heaven grant he may carry his boast into execution. But 
 no, even his audacity hath its limits." 
 
 " Your desires may be gratified, madam. Crichton, I doubt 
 not, will fulfil his word. Are you sure he is not here already?" 
 
 " Signor !" 
 
 " Nay, madam, the question is not irrelevant. He is aware of 
 your appointment with myseli^ — he quitted the Louvre in a disguise 
 in all respects like my own — he has escaped your guard — he has 
 vowed to atiempt the Gelosa's rescue — why should not I look for 
 him here ?" 
 
 '• You forget, signor, that you alone possess our glove. Your 
 enemy may have the same masquerade attire in all respects ; but, 
 without that passport, he could not gain entrance to our palace." 
 
 "My enemy possesses the king's signet, madam," returned the 
 mask, " which even your guard m^ust respect." 
 
 " Ha! doth he so?" exclaimed Catherine, "this is news indeed. 
 Ruggieri, who waits without'.'" 
 
 " Some half-dozen trusty blades, with a Spaniard, and a son of 
 Anak, whom I have taken this night into your majesty's service. 
 Knaves who fear not to use the stiletto ; and who have, moreover, 
 a wrong to avenge upon this Scot, being somewhile students of the 
 University.'^ 
 
 " Enough — summon them to my presence." 
 
 Ruggieri stamped upon the floor. 
 
 " Madam," said the mask, sternly; " I am accustomed to meet 
 my adversaries in the field — sword to sword. I cannot sit by and 
 see murder done." 
 
 " Murder !" laughed Catherine, derisively ; " that phrase suits 
 not with the justice of a queen. What ho ! Ruggieri, come they 
 not ?" 
 
 The words had scarcely escaped her lips, Avhen several dark 
 figures ascended from the trap-door, the bolts of which were with- 
 
THE INCANTATION. 159 
 
 drawn by the dwarf, and arranged themselves in silence before 
 the queen. Amongst them were the Spanish student Caravaja, 
 and the giant Loupgarou. These desperadoes appeared to be 
 now in their native element ; and their fierce and reckless coun- 
 tenances well assorted with the nature of the occupation for which 
 they were now apparently destined. 
 
 " Get behind yon carvings," said Catherine, motioning to the 
 darkling group ; *' yet stay — let him who has the surest daijrjei 
 remain Dchind. 
 
 " Por la vida del Rey ! I claim that honour from your majesty," 
 said Caravaja ; " m^ dagger hath never failed me." 
 
 " Let thy blow be dealt with more certainty, braggart, than wa3 
 his, who this morn aimed at the same breast — that of the Chevalier 
 Crichton." 
 
 *' Por I'alma de mi madre !" ejaculated the Spaniard ; "is it 
 Crichton whom your majesty — ?" 
 
 *•' Ha ! dost parley with us, knave ? Take thy place above the 
 trap-door — strike as he ascends." 
 
 Caravaja drew his dagger, and took the position indicated by the 
 queen. 
 
 " He will not escape us now, mcthinks," exclaimed Catherine, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " Is it possible, madam, you can witness this slaughterous deed 
 unmoved ?" 
 
 " You shall behold my calmness. You know me not, signer." 
 
 " I hear a footstep," exclaimed Ruggieri ; " he comes." 
 
 " Art ready ?" asked the queen of the Spaniard. 
 
 '* My dagger thirsts for liis blood,'' returned Caravaja; *' I see 
 the waving of a domino within the vaulted passage below ; it is a 
 masked figure, your majesty — not Crichton." 
 
 " Be silent, fool, 'tis he." 
 
 " IMadam,"" exclaimed the mask, firmly, " this must not be. 
 No assassin's blow shall be struck while I stand by." 
 
 " Would you assist your enemy ?" said Catherine, scornfully : 
 " an Italian, and forgive !" 
 
 '* I do not ask Crichton's life of your majesty ; I see well you 
 are relentless. I entreat you only to delay the stroke till you have 
 confronted him Avith me. Seize him, and stay his speech. But 
 strike him 7iot till I withdraw my mask." 
 
 A terrible smile played upon Catherine's features. 
 
 " Though you begged this boon upon your bended knee," said 
 she ; '* though my own soul were set upon the issue, I would not 
 delay my vengeance one second. Are you answered, signer ?" 
 
 " I am," replied the mask sternly, and laying his hand upon hia 
 sword. 
 
 A profound silence ensued. Not a breath was drawn. There 
 was something so appalling in this momently-anticipated assassina- 
 tion, that the hearts of the spectators grew chill with horror, and 
 
160 CRICHTON. 
 
 even Ruggieri's livid clieek took a more ghastly hue. Catherine 
 alone was superior to this weakness of humanity. Her countenance 
 was lighted with a glance of triumph — and she listened intently for 
 the approaching footsteps. The sounds drew nearer, and the points 
 of a sable feather could now be discovered, emerging from the 
 trap-door. 
 
 Catherine motioned to Caravaja : the latter raised his dagger and 
 drew back to give more certainty to the stroke. The new comer 
 slowly ascended, uttering an exclamation as his eye rested upon the 
 queen and her companions. At this moment the Spaniard's weapon 
 gleamed in the lamp-light ; but he struck not — his arm was disabled 
 and pinioned by the teeth of Druid, and his poignard rolled upon 
 the floor. The new comer, whose attire and mask in all respects 
 resembled that of the sable cavalier, started and looked round 
 irresolutely, 
 
 " Hence !" exclaimed the cavalier, " your plans are foiled — your 
 stratagem is discovered — your life endangered — hence !" 
 
 " My followers are within hearing," returned the mask, raising 
 a call to his lips. 
 
 But ere sound could be emitted, the trap- door closed with a 
 hollow clangour beneath his ieet : the machinery having been 
 suddenly turned, and the bolts shot into their sockets by the dwarf. 
 
 Catherine arose and fixed her piercing eyes upon the cavalier. 
 
 "A moment ago I told you, signor, that you knew me not. 
 Take heed you purchase not that knowledge too dearly. I for- 
 give this indiscretion on the score of your youth — but beware how 
 you incur my displeasure a second time. The proverb would tell 
 you that the offender writes in sand — the offended in marble. My 
 wrong is engraven in adamant. This man liath defied me, and by 
 my father's head, he shall die the death." 
 
 " What am I to understand from this, madam ?" inquired the 
 mask, in a voice so exactly resembling that of tlie cavalier, that the 
 nicest ear could not detect a shade of difference in the intonation, 
 and even Catherine started at the sound. 
 
 *' Now, by our lady of good succour," cried the queen, address^ 
 ing the cavalier, " were 1 not assured of your identity, signor, I 
 should almost doubt the evidence of my senses — the delusion is 
 wonderful."" 
 
 '•No delusion is practised on my part," returned the mask, 
 haughtily. "Your majesty is the dupe of other artifice.'' 
 
 " You bear yourself boldly, messire," returned Catherine, "but 
 your confidence will not long avail you. Tear off his mask !'^ 
 
 At this command of the queen the men-at-arms, headed by 
 Loupgarou, sprang from their concealment. 
 
 "Ha! — Saint Anthony to the rescue ! — off!" cried the mask, 
 fiercely, putting himself in a posture of defence. " He dies, who 
 first advances." 
 
THE INCANTATION. 161 
 
 ** Soh ! — you refuse to remove your vizard," seid the queen ; 
 " you are selt-convicted, messlre.'* 
 
 *' To you, madam, I should not hesitate to reveal my features," 
 replied the mask, " but before these rude assailants— never. You 
 forget to whom you offer this indignity." 
 
 " By my soul, no — I forget it not," returned Catherine, scorn- 
 fully ; " I offer it to one who hath openly defied my power — who 
 threatened to snatch a captive maiden from my grasp, and who 
 volunteered his own head as the price of his failure. He has failed, 
 and think not I will omit the penalty." 
 " Those were Crich ton's words, madam." 
 " And Crichton's are the features I would unmask." 
 " Then let your attendants tear off his vizard who stands beside 
 
 "Insolent!'' exclaimed the queen, "I trifle — upon him, varlets 
 — strike first — I shall have leisure to peruse his lineaments after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Hold, miscreants," cried the cavalier, drawing his sword, and 
 placing himself between the mask and the assailants — " hold, or — " 
 
 " Your blood be upon your own head," ejaculated Catherine, 
 impatiently. " I have already warned you." 
 
 " On one condition, madam, I will sheathe my sword," said 
 the cavalier. 
 
 " If that condition be the life of Crichton, you will in vain pro- 
 pose it,'' returned Catherine. 
 
 " I do not ask Crichton's life," rejoined the cavalier — " I ask 
 you only to defer your vengeance. Grant me a few minutes con- 
 ference with your majesty, and let the removal of my mask be 
 the signal to your executioners to assail their victim." 
 
 " Be it so," replied Catherine. 
 
 And, at a gesture from the queen, ere he could offer any effectual 
 resistance, the mask was disarmed and secured by Loupgarou and 
 his crew, and his arms bound together by the leathern girdle of 
 one of the men-at-arms. Caravaja by this time, not without the 
 loss of much of his raiment, and somewhat of his skin, had libe- 
 rated himself from Druid"s teeth, and muttering deep execrations, 
 retired crest-fallen amongst his comrades. 
 
 " Per laoreja sagrada de Malchos !" growled he to Loupgarou — 
 " that hound must certainly be a wizard. I may say, with old 
 Cornelius Agrippa, ' abi, perdita bestia, qua me totum perdidisti.^ " 
 
 *' Hear me, madam !" exclaimed the mask, furiously, as soon as 
 his choler allowed him utterance. " I repeat, you are the dupe of 
 artifice. Let both vizards be removed, and you will then judge 
 between us." 
 
 *' I shall exercise my own pleasure upon that head, messire," 
 returned Catherine — " away with him, varlets, to the guard-room. 
 See that the doors are barred against his followers ; and if rescue 
 be attempted, tarry not for further orders." 
 
 M 
 
162 CRICHTON. 
 
 " We understand your majesty," replied Loupgarou, In a hoarse 
 tone, inclining his enormous person towards the queen in such 
 manner as a tail cedar might be bent by the desert blast towards 
 some tree of meaner growth — the giant, we may remark, had been 
 aicontinentl)' cliosen (such is the reverence in which brute force 
 and stature are held by the vulgar) to the cominand of this bravo 
 troop. "Have you any further commands, madam?" asked the 
 Titan, with a second obeisance. 
 
 The cavalier again interposed. 
 
 '• Your majesty will, I trust," he said, " issue your commands, — 
 that your captive be treated with the courtesy and respect to which 
 his condition entitles him. I have your promise that he shall 
 receive no injury till I withdraw my mask. But I will rather 
 remove it now, and bring his fate to an instant issue, than expose 
 a gentleman to the debasing taunts of a felon band like this ; 
 whose insults, were I in his place, it would be more difficult to 
 brook than their daggers' points." 
 
 " I see not wherefore we should respect his honour who re- 
 garded not mine, signor," returned Catherine, sarcastically — "but 
 be it as you desire. Remove the captive," she continued, address- 
 ing Loupgarou. " Treat him with all consideration consistent 
 with his safe custody. It were well if he bestowed the few minutes 
 of grace left him, in preparation for the eternity he will so soon 
 enter upon. Look to him well — the lives of all shall answer for 
 his life." 
 
 " Madam Y' exclaimed the mask — " by my soul, you are de- 
 ceived." 
 
 " Away !" cried the queen. And without allowing him time for 
 further speech, the mask was hurried down the trap-door, and the 
 iron valve instantly closed over him. 
 
 The dwarf expressed his satisfaction at his disappearance by a 
 multitude of elfin gambols. Catherine clapped her hands — her 
 custom when greatly pleased — and turning to the cavalier, said, 
 with a benignant smile, 
 
 *' T will now come to the subject nearest your heart, signer, 
 and speak of her whose deliverance this luckless Crichton was to 
 have effected — the Gelosa. You may desire to behold her." 
 
 " I came hither for that purpose, madam,'' replied the cavalier. 
 
 The queen motioned to Ruggieri. Followed by the dwarf, the 
 astrologer withdrew to that side of the chamber across which the 
 curtains were drawn, and busied himself in describing certain lines 
 with his Jacob's staff upon the floor, while his companion proceeded 
 to set fire to various spicy woods in a brasier, in which from time 
 to time, he cast other odoriferous ingredients, presently filUng the 
 chamber with a cloud of vapour. 
 
 " Hath a magical ceremonial to be performed previous to her 
 appearance ?" asked the cavalier, in a tone of impatience. 
 
 " Said I not there was sorcery in the case," returned Ruggieri — 
 
THE INCANTATION. 163 
 
 " The girl is under the dominion of invisible but powerful essences, 
 over whom these spells have control. 1 ou shall not only behold 
 her in person, but learn by what charms she has so long held your 
 soul in subjugation." 
 
 " It needs no conjuration to discover the nature of those allure- 
 ments," returned the cavalier impatiently. " She whose eyes shame 
 the star Aldeboran in lustre, and whose ibrm rivals that of the sylph 
 Agla in lightness, need not resort to enchantment to hold her lover's 
 heart in thraldom. I can divine whence her fascination arises 
 without thine aid, good father." 
 
 " Can you likewise divine whence arises her repugnance towards 
 your suit, noble signor ? Can you tell by what power she is 
 enabled to resist your passionate suit?'' 
 
 " By that power, over which no art or enticement, human or 
 superhuman, can prevail — that of virtue," returned the cavalier. 
 
 " Pish !" exclaimed Ruggieri, scornfully shrugging his shoulders 
 — " the honour of man and the faith of woman, like trinkets used 
 to decorate apparel, are excellent embellishments to discourse, but 
 of little real utility to the possessor. I understand not the advan- 
 tage of such ornamental qualities, and have no strong belief in 
 their existence. Virtue, however, has little to do with this girl's 
 repugnance to you, signor. She prefers another ; and has been, 
 moreover, in possession of a charm, which, as 1 told you, I removed 
 this morning from her neck. Take this key, signor, I have 
 plunged it into a collyriura of such efficacy, that it cannot fail to 
 draw her love towards him who wears it. Her heart will no longer 
 dwell upon Crichton, but upon you." 
 
 The cavalier took the key and examined its curious workman- 
 ship attentively. Ruggieri withdrew to continue his mysterious 
 rites. 
 
 " While the astrologer is occupied with his suffumicration," said 
 Catherine, assuming a confidential tone; " you shall learn the secret 
 1 have to disclose to you — a secret which, as I have already 
 observed, nearly concerns yourself." 
 
 '* A secret which concerns me, madam?" said the cavalier, whose 
 eye was still fixed upon the golden key he held ; " does it relate in 
 liny way to the Gelosa?" 
 
 " By our Lady !" exclaimed Catherine, scornfully, " Ruggieri was 
 not far from the truth, when he said you were bewitched by this girl. 
 Your thoughts run on nought else. But do you imagine, fair^sir, 
 I am equally the subject of her fascinations, that 1 should trouble 
 myself with the aflairs of a minstrel?" 
 
 ^ " Your pardon, madam. But I thought you had made some 
 discovery touching the condition of this girl. There is an inscrip- 
 tion graven upon this key, from which I gather somewhat of her 
 history." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Catherine, " what imports it?" 
 
 M 2 
 
154 CRICHTON. 
 
 "That she is the daughter of a dame of Mantua, of rank; her 
 name Ginevra." 
 
 " How learn you this, noble signer ?" asked the astrologer, 
 anxiously returning towards him. 
 
 "From the handle of this key, upon which these characters, 
 revealed by the powerful acid thou hast appHed, have become 
 apparent — ' Ginevra, daughter of Ginevra Malatesta — Mantua.' " 
 
 " Taphthartharath !" exclaimed the astrologer, shaking as if a 
 vision had passed before him. 
 
 " What ails you, father?" inquired the queen. 
 
 " Nothing, madam — nothing, stammered Ruggieri, desirous, it 
 would seem, to conceal the interest he took in the cavalier's disco- 
 very; " but there is more, is there not, noble signor? Give me that 
 ]jey — -^hy did I part with it from mine own keeping?" 
 
 " Of what avail had it been to thee ?" said Catherine, scornfully; 
 " thy boasted art could not enable thee to detect those hidden 
 characters. But what mean those mystic letters and that figure? 
 Can you unravel this further mystery, signor?" 
 
 " The figure is that of the planet Saturn, under whose dominion 
 rhe metal of which this key is wrought, is placed by the disciples 
 of occult philosophy. The letters are (cabalistic characters, refer- 
 ring by numbers to those of the Hebrew alphabet; and forming, 
 when placed together, a legend in that tongue, which may be thus 
 
 interpreted : — 
 
 Gold ! who wert a father's bane, 
 Gold ! who wert a mother's stain, 
 Gold ! be thou a daughter's chain 
 
 Of purity. 
 Shield her breast from sword and fire. 
 From intemperate desire ; 
 From a heaven-abandon'd sire, 
 
 In charity!" 
 
 **A singular inscription!" exclaimed Catherine, "and by my 
 faith, signor, you have shown no little ingenuity in its elucidation. 
 I question Avheiher my captive Crichton, who is said to be as well 
 versed in the mysteries of the Cabala as Pico di Mirandola, could 
 have rendered it more fehcitously. But love is quick-sighted." 
 
 " Suffer me to behold that inscription, noble signor," said Rug- 
 giere, trembling with agitation. "I would fain examine those 
 characters with mine own eyes." 
 
 " Not now— not now, good father," interrupted Catherine 
 peremptorily; " this bauble has already offered too much interrup- 
 tion to my conference. What matters it to thee who was the sire, or 
 who the mother of this girl?" 
 
 " Everything!' exclaimed the astrologer, eagerly, but correcting 
 himself, he added — " that is, my charm would be more perfect if I 
 possessed the talisman." 
 
 ** 'Tis plain thou didst not understand its use or virtue," returned 
 the queen — " To thy task without more delay." 
 
THE INCANTATION. 165 
 
 And Ruggieri, seeing opposition was useless, slowly withdrew, 
 casting a lingering, longing glance upon the amulet which he 
 had so heedlessly abandoned to another, and which, (now that he 
 had parted with it) appeared to assume infinitely more importance 
 in his eyes than it had done while it continued in his own posses- 
 sion. 
 
 " Your majesty had a disclosure to make to me?" said the cava- 
 Uer, as soon as the astrologer had retired — " may I venture to 
 recall your attention to the subject ?" 
 
 " I have a secret to communicate not less singular than that 
 you have just chanced upon," said the queen ; "but before I 
 unfold my mystery, I must inquire from you whether amongst 
 the beauties who thronged the Louvre to-night, you noticed one 
 who held the chief place among our dames of honour, and who was 
 for some time the favoured object of the king, our son's regard?" 
 
 "Your majesty cannot mean the Demoiselle Esclairmonde?" 
 returned the cavalier, starting. " Is it possible your communications 
 can liave reference to her?" 
 
 " My disclosure lias reference to Esclairmonde, signer," rejoined 
 the queen — " you have heard, perhaps, that there is a mystery 
 attached to her birth." 
 
 " 1 have heard, madam, tlie court rumour, which runs that she 
 is an orphan, the daughter of a Huguenot gentleman of distinction^ 
 but that her real name is carefully concealed even from her own 
 knowledge by your commands." 
 
 *' The tale whispered abroad by my orders has reached your ears,. 
 I find," replied Catherine, " nor is it altogether wide of the truth. 
 She is the daughter of a Huguenot leader — but that leader was- 
 Louis 1. de Bourbon, Prince de Conde." 
 
 For a moment the Cavalier appeared to be lost in astonishment. 
 Uttering a single exclamation of surprise, he maintained a perfect 
 silence, as if overwheltned by the queen's intelligence. Catherine 
 regarded him fixedly. 
 
 " My news," she said, " excites your admiration. You deemed 
 not that in my unknown attendant, Esclairmonde, you beheld the 
 daughter of a house illustrious as your own." 
 
 " I am indeed filled Avith wonder, madam," faltered the cavalier 
 — " Esclairmonde a Princess of Conde I — can it be .''" 
 
 " Look at these papers which authenticate her birth," returned 
 Catherine, placing the packet given lier by Ruggieri, before the 
 cavalier, " Read that despatch from Tavannes, the captor of the 
 infant princess — read those instructions from the Cardinal of Lor- 
 raine — that memorial of tlie guard who seized her — this credential 
 of her attendant, and my own letters of authority written at the 
 period. Let your own eye glance over these documents, and you 
 will at once satisfy yourself of the truth of what I have asserted." 
 
 With a hand trembling with eagerness, the cavalier took the 
 packet. His eye wandered rapidly over its contents. 
 
166 CRICHTON. 
 
 " I am eatisfied, madam," replied he, as his hasty scrutiny con- 
 cluded. " And the secret of Esclairmonde's birth is of course, 
 >fV'holly unknown to the prince her brother ?" 
 
 " Henri de Bourbon believes that his sister perished in her 
 inflmcy," returned the queen. "I will briefly relate to you how 
 she fell into my hands, and you will then perceive his grounds for 
 that supposition. During Louis de Bourbon's flight from Noyers 
 to Rochelle, an ambuscade, placed by my directions in the moun- 
 tain passes near Sancerre for the purpose of intercepting the fugitives, 
 ■surprised and attacked the litter in which the princess and her infant 
 charge were conveyed. By miracle she and her son escaped: but 
 a fair child — a babe — scarce weaned, was borne off in triumph hj 
 the assailants. Conde, at the head of his ritters, vainly sought to 
 recover his treasure. His efforts were so desperate, that a strata- 
 gem was resorted to, to baffle his fury. A child snatched from 
 one of his household, was hurled beneath his horse's feet, and 
 deceived by the outcry of his opponents — thinking that he had 
 luawittingly contributed to the destruction of his own offspring — the 
 prince in despair directed his attention to the preservation of his 
 distracted consort, with whom, and with his son, he succeeded in 
 eflecting a secure retreat. From that day to the hour when his 
 \lood dyed the battle-field of Jarnac, Conde continued in ignorance 
 jf his child's existence. She was to him as she had been no 
 more." 
 
 A deep sigh burst from the cavalier's breast as Catherine paused 
 for a moment to ascertain the impression she had produced. Appa- 
 rently satisfied, she proceeded with her narrative. 
 
 " A month after the event I have described," continued the queen, 
 " a fair-haired infant was brought to me at the Louvre, by a faithful 
 emissary of Tavannes. * The fawn is netted,' wrote the marechal 
 in the letter now lying before you, ' the deer hath escaped our toils.' 
 By the advice of the Cardinal of Lorraine, the wisest and most pre- 
 scient of counsellors, the princess was reared in entire seclusion and 
 in ignorance of her rank — and by the cardinal's advice also, the 
 motives of which you will find there developed, she was secretly 
 suffeied to imbibe the Calvinistic principles of her family. 
 Of late, in order the more effectually to mask my designs, I have 
 given it out that I intend her for the cloister, and I have noted 
 with satisfaction the effect which this announcement of my will has 
 produced upon her. The period which the sage cardinal foresaw 
 is arrived. Anjou's plot is ripe. The Huguenots must be gained. 
 With Esclairmonde I have the means of winning over their 
 leader. With her I have an earnest of Conde's fideUty, should he 
 league his arms with ours— with her I can paralyse his efforts 
 should he declare against us." 
 
 " A refined and subtle scheme, madam," replied the cavalier, 
 who had with difl&culty repressed his indignation during the latter 
 part of the queen's recital, and whose vizard alone prevented the 
 
THE INCANTATION. 167 
 
 wrathful expression of his countenance from being perceived, " and 
 worthy of a discipUne of Niccolo Macchiavelli, such as the Cardinal 
 of Lorraine was known to be. But may I venture to ask, madam, 
 whether you now propose to restore the princess to her brother ? 
 And, futhermore, wliat may be your majesty's motive in making 
 me the depositary of so important a state secret as the mystery of 
 her birth?" 
 
 *' Your questions are somewhat abrupt, signor," repHed Catherine, 
 with a slight expression of displeasure; " nevertheless, I will answer 
 them as freely as they are put. Your alliance with Anjou — your 
 devotion towards myself— entitle you to my confidence. Why I 
 have entrusted you with a secret so dear to me as that of Esclair- 
 monde's birth will presently appear. Meantime I will answer your 
 first inquiry at once, by saying that I do not propose to restore the 
 princess to her brother, till the full object of her detention shall 
 be accomplished. I have other and more extended views respecting 
 her. In a word, I have yet to dispose of her hand in marriage." 
 
 The cavalier started. 
 
 " How?" he exclaimed, with some impatience — " Will your 
 majesty exercise the power which you have acquired over the 
 destiny of this princess, to give away her hand without the consent 
 — without the knowledge — of her l)rother, Henri de Bourbon ?'' 
 
 " Without his consent — without her own," returned Catherine — 
 " Think you the Prince de Conde's approval will be needed to ratify 
 an alliance proposed and sanctioned by Catherine de Medicis ? I 
 shall bestow her upon him who serves me best, not on him who may 
 please her fancy most, or that of Henri de Bourbon. The choice 
 of the one might fall upon some hostile leader of the Huguenot 
 party — the election of the other, were she consulted, might be 
 declared in lavour of some such arrogant adventurer as the young 
 Scot, whose life now hangs upon my breath; and who, as I learn 
 from Ruggieri, hath already dared to offer his suit to her." 
 
 " It was in ignorance of her rank that he did so," returned the 
 cavalier, " for whatever opinion I may entertain of the scope and 
 aim of Crichton's ambition, I cannot think that, had he been 
 acquainted with Esclairmonde's exalted birth, he would have ven- 
 tured to aspire to her hand." 
 
 " He has already aspired to the favours of my daughter. Mar- 
 guerite de Valois," returned Catherine frowning, " and he who 
 will dare to soar so high in gallantry, will scarce content himself with 
 a lowly flight in honest love. Y'^ou are mistaken in your estimate of 
 this Scot's character, signor. I read it more clearly than you do. 
 His ruling passion is ambition. He aims at distinction in all things 
 and were 1 to free him from his fetters, and to entrust him with 
 the secret I have just now communicated to you, the first use he 
 would make of his hberty would be to renew his suit with redou- 
 bled ardour to the princess." 
 
 " There, I am assured you wrong him, madam." 
 
168 CEicnxoN. 
 
 " No matter," cried Catherine, " I shall not afford him the 
 opportunity. Crichton is of an order of men who must be 
 crushed ere they attain dangerous eminence. To elevate him would 
 be to endanger our own power. Henri is ruled, as you well know, 
 by his minions — the minions are ruled by Crichton. His mental 
 acquirements — his bravery, and his various and unequalled accom- 
 plishments have already obtained complete ascendency over a court, 
 which of all others is most easily dazzled by such qualities." 
 
 " And are these the only faults you can lay to Crichton's charge, 
 madam?" asked the cavalier. 
 
 " No," replied Catherine, " he has yet a greater fault." 
 
 " Beseech your mnjesty name it." 
 
 *' He is of incorruptible honesty," rejoined Catherine, " had he 
 been otherwise, he had been the fittest instrument I could have 
 chosen for my purposes — as it is, he is only an obstacle — " 
 
 " Which will speedily be removed," supplied the cavalier, 
 gravely. " Suffer me to change the subject, and to return to that 
 from which we have wandered?" 
 
 " The Princess of Conde — true," replied Catherine; "you beheld 
 her at the Louvre to-night, signor — 1 would gladly learn what is 
 your opinion of her attractions ! Is her beaaty equal to that of our 
 dames, think you?" 
 
 " It is without a peer in the world," sighed the cavalier. 
 
 Catherine smiled complacently. 
 
 " Mary Stuart," she said, " in the zenith of her youth and 
 loveliness — when the walls of the Louvre resounded with the sighs 
 of her thousand worshippers — and when the whole chivalry of 
 Europe flocked to the court of France to bask in her smiles — was 
 not so beautiful." 
 
 " I can well believe it, madam," returned the cavalier, in a tone 
 of deep despondency, *' I have myself seen the unfortunate Queen 
 of Scots, and her charms of person, wondrous as they still are, 
 cannot, I think, have equalled the matchless perfections of Esclair- 
 monde." 
 
 Catherine again smiled ; and it was with some playfulness of 
 manner that she now continued the conversation. 
 
 " She is indeed most lovely, — so lovely that, I tliink, if Anjou's 
 suit fail, as it is not unlikely, with that experienced coquette our 
 sister (as her years as well as her regal dignity entitle her to be 
 termed), Elizabeth of England, I shall console him for his disap- 
 pointment with the hand of the lairest princess of her time. VV hat 
 he loses in power he will gain in beauty. How say you, signor? 
 Does this alliance meet with your approval ?" 
 
 " Beseech you, madam, press not that question upon me," replied 
 the cavalier, in a troubled tone, " and to be frank with you, let me 
 confess at once, that if the object of your conference be the consi- 
 deration of an alliance between the Due D'Anjou and Esclairmonde, 
 I am myself far too deeply interested in the fate of the fair princess, 
 
THE INCANTATION. 169 
 
 to be able to offer an impartial opinion upon the policy or impolicy 
 of the proposed union, and must, therefore, with your majesty's 
 permission, decline its I'urther discussion. Esclairmonde's charms 
 would alone entitle her to the hand of the proudest prince in 
 Europe, who might deem himself supremely blest in their posses- 
 sion." 
 
 " Say you so, signer.'*" returned Catherine, gaily. " What if I 
 change the title and designation of the bridegroom? What, if for 
 Francois de Valois, Due D'Anjou, I substitute that of Vincenzo 
 di Gonzaga, Prince of IMantua — will that alliance please you 
 better ?" 
 
 " Madame !" faltered the cavalier. 
 
 " Have I not read your heart aright? Do you not love this 
 maiden?" 
 
 " More than my Hfe." 
 
 " She is yours, then — I give her to you — and moreover, I 
 will enrich her with a dowry from my coffers, such as neither the 
 D'Este nor the Farnese could bestow." 
 
 A deep-drawn sigh was the only response made by the cavalier. 
 Putting her own construction upon his silence, the queen continued: 
 " Lend your aid with arm and counsel, to place Anjou upon his 
 brother's throne, and Esclairmonde is your reward." 
 
 " And is the best blood of France," returned the cavaher, with 
 bitterness, " to be bartered for treason ?" 
 
 " These are strange words from you, prince," rejoined Catherine, 
 " can I have been mistaken in you ? Have I fostered a secret 
 foe — are your own despatches — are those letters delusive ? Answer 
 me, Vincenzo. Do I address an ally of Anjou, or a secret foe 
 of Henri — the friend of an aspiring prince, or the tool of a falling 
 monarch ?" 
 
 " You speak to one who thinks, acts, and speaks freely and fear- 
 lessly, madam ; Avho aspires to honour by honourable means — and 
 who would hurl from his grasp the sceptre of France, could it be 
 attained only by treachery. Your plot against Henri, phrase it how 
 you may, is treasonable." 
 
 " I will not quarrel with your terms, prince," replied Cathe- 
 rine, coldly. " Words are to us the cloak 'neath which the sword 
 is hidden, and the more honestly they sound the less suspicion they 
 are likely to awaken. You are welcome, therefore, to call our plot 
 rebellious, so long as you can enact the part of an arch-rebel your- 
 self But enough of this. You say you love the Princess of Conde. 
 Assist Anjou in his (if you so please to phrase them) treasonable 
 designs. Place him upon the throne, and she shall be the meed 
 of your services." 
 
 Catherine paused and fixed her eagle glance upon the cavalier, 
 awaiting his reply. But he spoke not. Contending emotions 
 Beemed to agitate his bosom. 
 
170 CRICHTON. 
 
 " What m€ans this?" exclaimed the queen, rising in displeasure. 
 **Do you reject my offer?'"' 
 
 " A fatal bar exists against its acceptance." 
 
 " Your passion for this girl — this Gelosa — is it so ? By our 
 Lady ! there must be witchcraft in the case. Ruggieri, proceed 
 with thine enchantments — we must dissolve the spell. Prince," 
 she continued in a stern deep tone, "reflect upon my offer. I 
 shall expect your answer on the morrow. Meanwhile, bury the 
 secret 1 have committed to your keeping within the inmost 
 recesses of your heart. Breathe it not even to your confessor. 
 You can now conjecture why I desired this interview with you 
 — why I selected you as the depositary of the secret of Esclair- 
 tnonde's birth. You have perused those evidences of her illustrious 
 origin. You have satisfied yourself she is the daughter of Henri 
 cle Bourbon. I will now commit those documents to the secure 
 custody of this coffer." Saying which, Catherine extended her 
 hand to receive back the packet. 
 
 "An instant, madam, I beseech you," returned the cavalier, 
 stdl detaining the papers, while his eyes appeared eagerly to scan 
 their contents. 
 
 " You will have more leisure for their perusal on the morrow," re- 
 plied the queen, " in the meantime turn your thoughts to her who 
 more immediately claims your attention." 
 
 At this juncture, and ere Catlierine could possess herself of 
 the packet, the chamber was plunged in darkness. Unobserved, 
 during their conference, the dwarf had silently crawled near the 
 speakers, and at a signal from Ruggieri, suddenly extinguished the 
 lamp which hung above their heads. 
 
 "■ The letters," demanded Catherine, hastily. And as she spoke, 
 what she conceived to be the packet was placed in her hands. 
 
 Suddenly a low and plaintive strain of music — whence proceed- 
 ing, it was impossible to determine — was heard, and at the same 
 moment, a cool and refreshing odour addressed itself to the 
 senses of the cavalier. The effect of this subtle spirit combined 
 with the rich and fragrant exhalations of the chafing-dish, induced 
 an agreeable langour, against the oveipowering influence of which 
 it was vain to contend. It disposed the mind unresistingly to sur- 
 render itself to the delusions about to be practised by the sorcerer. 
 Through the dense cloud of vapour that now filled the apartment, 
 nothing could be seen but the dull red fire of the brasier, and the 
 symphony became each instant more faint, until it gradually died 
 away. The voice of the astrologer was then heard chanting the fol- 
 iowing strains : 
 
 Incantation. 
 
 Lovely spirit, who dost dwell 
 In the bowers invisible. 
 
THE INCANTATION. 17 
 
 By undying Hermes reared; 
 By Stagyric sage revered ; 
 Where the silver fountains wander j 
 Where the golden streams meander; 
 Where the dragon vigil keeps 
 Over mighty treasure heaps ; 
 Where the mystery is known, 
 Of the wonder working Stone ; 
 ^^ here the quintessence is gained 
 And immortal life attained — 
 Spirit I — by this spell of power, 
 I cnll thee from thy viewless bower. 
 
 The footstep of tlie astrologer was now heard to approach the 
 brasier. A hissing noise, as of some fluid cast upon the fiery coals 
 succeeded. Fresh vt)lumes of smoke ascended to the ceiling, emit- 
 ting vivid sparks as they arose, and Ruggieri, muttering some 
 unintelligible sounds continued his spell. 
 
 The charm is wrought — the word is spoken, 
 And the sealed vial broken ! 
 Element with element 
 Is incorporate and blent; 
 Fire with water — air witli earth. 
 As before creation's birth ; 
 Matter gross is purified, 
 Matter humid rarified ; 
 Matter volatile is tixed, 
 The spirit with the clay commixed. 
 Laton is by azoth purged. 
 And the argeut-vif disgorged ; 
 And the black crow's head is ground, 
 And the magistery found ; 
 And wiiii broad empurpled wing 
 Springs to light the blood-red king. 
 By this fiery assation — 
 By this wondrous permutation 
 Spirit, from thy burning sphere 
 Float to earth — appear — appear! 
 
 For an instant all became dark. Even the dull glare of the 
 chafing-dish was obscured. A fresh strain of music more soft, 
 more plaintive than the preceding melody, was heard. A dazzling 
 stream of light was seen to cut swiftly through the air, and to settle 
 near the astrologer. 
 
172 CRICHTON 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE MAGIC RING. 
 
 It was then perceived that tlie briUiant flame flowed from a 
 sword held by a female shape, robed in shining attire of almost 
 gossamer texture. This sylph-like tigure, so far as it could be dis- 
 cerned through the vapour, appeared of rare and almost unearthly 
 loveliness. In her right hand the spirit bore a flaming brand ; 
 in her left a small vase of crystal, while in a thrilling voice she 
 warbled the foUowini' strains : — 
 
 ^ong of tfjc Spirit. 
 I. 
 
 Within the golden portal 
 
 Of the garden of the wise, 
 Watching by the severi-spray'd fountain 
 
 Ihe Hesperian Dragon lies.* 
 Like tiie ever-burning branches 
 
 In tlie dream of holy seer ; 
 Like the types of Asia's churches 
 
 Tliose glorious jets appear. 
 Three times the magic waters 
 
 Must the Winged Dragon drain ; 
 Then his scales shiili hurst asunder, 
 
 And his heart be reft in twain. 
 
 • The above lines are little more tlian a versification of some of the celebrated 
 President D'Es/iaynet's hermetic canons, with wliicli the English adept must be 
 familiar in the translation of Elias Ashuiole. D'Kspaynefs Arcanum Phitosophite 
 Hermeticcp has attained a classical celohrit^v among his disciples, who were at one 
 period sutficiently numerous. Tlie subjoined interpretation of this philosophical 
 allegory may save the uninitiated reader some speculation. " La Fontaine que Ton 
 trouve a I'entree dnJarc/hi est le Mercure des 'ages, qui sort des sept sources, parce 
 qu'il est le principe des sept mttaux.et qu'il est forme par les sept planetes, quoi- 
 que le soleil seul soit appele son pere et la lune seule sa mere. Le Diayon qu'on 
 y fait boire est la putrefaction qui survienta la matiere qu ils ont appelee Dragon, 
 a cause de sa couleur noire, et de sa puanteur. Ce dragon quite ses vetemens, 
 lorsque la couleur prise succedea la noire. Vous ne reussirez point si Venus et 
 Diane ne vous sont favorables, c'est a dire, si ])ar la regime de feu, vous ne parvenez 
 a Ijlanchir la matiere qu'il appelle dans cet etat de blancheur le regne de la lune." 
 . — Dictionnaire JSlyOio-Hermetujue. The mysterious influence of the number Seven 
 and its relations with the planets is too well known to need explanation here. 
 Jacques Bohom has noticed it in the enigma contained in his Aquarium Sapientium 
 beginning — 
 
 Septem sunt urbes, septem pro more metalla, 
 Suntque dies septem, Septimus est numerus. 
 
THE MAGIC KING. 173 
 
 Forth shall flow an emanation, 
 
 Forth shall spring a shape divine, 
 And if Sol and Cynthia aid thee, 
 
 Shall the Charmed Key be thine. 
 
 II. 
 
 In the solemn groves of U'isdom, 
 
 Where black pines their shadows fling 
 
 Near the haunted cell of Hormes, 
 Three lovely flow'rets spiing: 
 
 The violet damask-tinted, 
 In scent all flowers above ; 
 
 The milk white vestal lily. 
 
 And the|)iir|ile flower of love. 
 
 Red Sol a sign shall give thee 
 
 Where the sapphire violets gleam. 
 
 Watered by the rills that wander 
 From the viewless golden stream, 
 
 One violet shalt thou gather- 
 But ah ! — beware, beware ! — 
 
 The lily and the amaranth 
 Demand thy chiefest care.* 
 
 III. 
 
 Within the lake of crystal,-|- 
 
 Roseate as the sun's first ray, 
 Witli eyes of diamond lustre.J 
 
 A thousand tishes play. 
 A net within that water, 
 
 A net with web of gold, 
 If cast where air-bells glitter, 
 
 One shining tisli shall hold. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Amid the oldest mountains,^ 
 
 \\ hose tops are next the sun, 
 The everlasting rivers 
 
 Through glowing channels run. 
 Those mountains are of silver. 
 
 Tho>e channels aie of gold ; 
 And thence the countless treusurcs 
 
 Of the kings of earth are loll'd ; 
 But far— far must he wander 
 
 O'er realms and seas unknown, 
 Who seeks the ancient mountains. 
 
 Where shines the Wondrols Stone I 
 
 . * You8 ne s^parerez point ces fleurs de leur racines— c'est-a-dire, qu'il ne faut 
 rien otcr du vase. Par ce nioyen on aura d'abord des violettes de couleur de saphire 
 fonce, ensuite de lys, et entin lamaranthe, ou la couleur de pourpre, qui est I'mdice 
 de la perfection du souffre aurifique. Diet. Mytho-Herm. 
 
 t Les pbilosophes ont souvent donne le nom du Lac a leur vase, et au mercure, 
 qui y est renfenne. Diet. Mytho-Herm. 
 
 X Lorsque la matiere est parvenue ^ un certain degre de cuisson, il se forme sur 
 Ba superficie de petites boules qui ressemblent aux yeux des poissons. Diet. Mytho- 
 Herm. 
 
 § Quelquefois les Alchemistes ont entendu par le terme de Montague leur vase, 
 leur fourneau, et toute matiere m^talique. Diet. Mytho-Herm. 
 
174 CRICHTON. 
 
 As the spirit concluded lier song she presented the crystal vial 
 to the astrologer, exclaiming: — 
 
 In that mystic vase doth lie 
 
 Life and immortality. 
 
 Life to him who droops in death, 
 
 To the gasping bosom breatii. 
 
 Immortality alone 
 
 To him to wliom the " \^ ord" is known. 
 
 Take it — 'tis a precious boon, 
 
 Vouchsafed by Hermes to his son. 
 
 Ruggieri reverently received the gift. And, as if extinguished at 
 a breath, the blue flame playing upon the edge of the sword 
 expired and the phantom vanished. The brasier once more 
 became visible, and the magician resumed the performance of his 
 mysterious rites. At a gesture from his master, Elberich brought a 
 panier filled with sundry magical ingredients, together with a pon- 
 derous volume fastened with brass clasps, and clothed in black vellum. 
 From time to time Ruggieri took some herb or root from the 
 basket and cast it into the brasier, when it crackled and fumed, 
 and eventually burst into flame. Nothing was wanting to add to 
 the effect of the cererponial. The dwarf gibbered, the cat hissed, 
 Druid uttered a deep and prolonged howl. The sufliimigation 
 mounted in clouds — and the voice of Ruggieri, hoarse and broken, 
 and half choked by the vapour he inhaled, arose above the clamour. 
 Thus ran his invocation: — 
 
 On the smouldering fire is thrown 
 Tooth of fox and weasel's bone, 
 Eye of cat and scull of rat, 
 And the hooked wing of bat, 
 Mandrake root and murderer's gore, 
 Henbane, hemlock, liellebore, 
 Stibium, storax, bdcllion, borax. 
 Ink of cuttle-tish, and featlier 
 Of the screech-owl, smoke together. 
 
 Witn his Jacob's staff, the astrologer then proceeded to trace 
 certain figures upon the floor, and taking the black book from the 
 dwarf, read aloud a mystical sentence, after which he closed the 
 volume and resumed his spell : — 
 
 On the ground is a circle traced ; 
 
 On that circle a seal is placed ; 
 
 On that seal is a symbol graven ; 
 
 On that symbol an orb of heaven; 
 
 By tiiat orb is a figure sliown ; 
 
 By ttiat figure a name is known. 
 
 ^^ar)de^ing witch it is thine own !— 
 
 But thy name must not be named. 
 
 Nor to mortal ears proclaimed. 
 
 Shut are the leaves of the Grimoire dread j 
 
 The spell is muttered — the word is said, 
 
 And that word, in a whisper drowned, 
 
 Shall to thee like a whirlwind sound. 
 
THE MAGIC RIWG. I>5» 
 
 Swift througli the shiverini; air it flies — 
 
 Swiftly it traverses earth and skies ; — 
 
 Wherever tliou art — above — below — 
 
 Thither that terrible vrord shall go. 
 
 Art thou on the waste alone. 
 
 To the white moon making moan ?' 
 
 Art thou, human eye eschewing, 
 
 In some cavern philters brewing? 
 
 By familiar swart attended — 
 
 By a triple charm defended — 
 
 Gatherest thou the grass that waves 
 
 O'er dank pestilential graves? — 
 
 Or on broom or goat astride, 
 
 To thy Sabbath do5t thou ride? 
 
 Or with sooty imp doth match thee? 
 
 From his arms my spell siiall snatch thee. 
 
 Shall it seek thee — and find tliee. 
 
 And with a chain bind thee ; — 
 
 And through the air whirl thee. 
 
 And at my feet hurl thee ! 
 
 By the word thou dreadst to hear I 
 
 Nameless witch ! — appear — appear ! 
 
 Scarcely were the words pronounced, when a rusliing sound "tras 
 heard, and the figure of a hideous hag suddenly stood before the 
 astrologer. About her withered neck and shoulders, the witch's 
 wintry locks hung in wild disorder ; her apparel was loathly 
 and forbidding as her features. For a moment she remained with 
 one arm leaning upon a staff, and with the other, smeared, it would 
 seem, with blood, stretched out towards Ruggieri. 
 
 " Whence comest thou ?" demanded he. 
 
 " From my Sabbath-revel at Montfaucon," replied the hag — 
 " Wouldst hear how we have passed the night ? Wouldst learn? 
 the pranks we have played beneath the moon — how Sathan hath 
 piped for us — how the dead have danced with us — how we have 
 boiled infant's flesh — brewed philters — ^and confected poisons — ha t 
 —ha! — attend!" 
 
 And m a harsh discordant tone, the hag sang the following wild 
 rhyme? 
 
 ®5e ^orceitr's ^abbatlj.* 
 I. 
 
 Around Montfaucon's mouldering stoneSy 
 
 The wizard crew is flitting : 
 And 'neath a Jew's unhallowed bones, 
 
 Man's enemy is sitting. 
 
 • Le Loyer observes, that the Saboe, evoke, sung at the orpia, or Bacchanalia,. 
 agree with the exclamations of the conjurers and witches — " Her Sabaf—Sabat ;'* 
 and that Bacchus, who was Only a devil in disguise, was named Sabass2is. from the 
 Sabbath of the Bacchanals. The accustomed form of their initiation was expressed 
 in these words, — '^ 1 have drunk of the drum, and eaten of the cymbal; and am become 
 a proficient ;" which Le Loyer explains in the following manner : — By the cymbal 
 is meant the caldron used by the modern conjurers to boil those infants they iiitend 
 to eat ; and by the drum the goat's skin, blown up, whence they extract it» 
 
176 CRICHTON. 
 
 Terrible it is to ste 
 
 Siicli fantastic revelry ! 
 
 Terrible it is to hear 
 
 Sounds that shake the soul with fearl 
 
 Like the chariot wheels of Night 
 
 Swiftly round about they go ; 
 Scarce the eye can track tlieir flight. 
 
 As the mazy measures flow. 
 Now they form a ring of tire ; 
 Now a spiral, funeral pire : — 
 Mounting now, and now descending, 
 In a circle never ending. 
 As the clouds the storm-blast scatters — 
 As tlie oak the thunder scatters — 
 As scared fowl in wintry weather — 
 Tliey iuiddle, groan, and scream together. 
 Strains unearthly and forlorn 
 ' Issue from yon wrinkled horn, 
 
 By the bearded demon blown, 
 Sitting on tliat great gray stone. 
 
 Bound wil/i tulilstle and with whoop. 
 
 Sweep the ever-whirling troop : 
 
 Streams of light their footstfps trail. 
 
 Forked as a comeJs tail. 
 
 '• Uer Sahat !— Sabat ! — " they cry. — 
 
 An abbtss joins their comjiuny 
 
 II. 
 
 Sullenly resounds the roof, 
 
 ^\ ith the tramp of horned hoof: — 
 
 Rings each iron-girdled rafter 
 
 With intolerable laughter: 
 
 Shaken by the stunning peal. 
 
 The chain-hung corses swing and reel. 
 
 From its perch on a dead-man's bone, 
 
 Wild witli fright, hatli tlie raven flown : 
 
 Fled from its feast hatli the flesh-gorged rat ; 
 
 Gone from its roost is the vampire-bat ; 
 
 Stareth and screameth the screech owl old, 
 
 As he wheeletli iiis flight through the moonlit wold ; 
 
 Bays the garbage-glutted hound, 
 
 Quakes the blind mole underground. 
 
 liissing, glides the speckled snake ; 
 
 Loathliest things their meal forsake. 
 
 From their holes beneath the wall, 
 
 Newt, and toad, and adder crawl — 
 
 In the Sabbath-dnnce to sprawl ! 
 
 liimnd ifilh uhislle and wi'h ivhoop. 
 
 Sweep the evir-whirling troop ; 
 
 Louder grows thdr frantic glee — 
 
 Wilder j^et their revelry, 
 
 '* Her Sab'it ! — Sabat ! — " they crif, 
 
 A young girl joins their company. 
 
 moisttire, boil it up fit to drink, and by that means are admitted to participate la 
 the ceremonies of Bacchus. It is also alleged the name Sabbath is given to these 
 assemblies of conjurers, because they are generally held on Saturdays. — Monsieur 
 Oujie : — Description of the Sabbath. 
 
THE MAGIC RING. '77 
 
 III. 
 
 See that dark-liair'd girl advances— 
 In her hand a poignard l' lances ; 
 On her bosom, wliite and bare, 
 Rests an infaiii passing fair : 
 Like a thing from heavenly region, 
 'Mid that diabolic legion. 
 Lovelier maid was never seen 
 Than tiiat rntliless one, I ween • 
 Shnpn of symmetry hath she, 
 And a step as wild-doe i'ree. 
 Her jetty liaif is all unbound, 
 And its long locks sweep the ground. 
 
 Hushed in sleep her infant lies— 
 
 " Perish ! child of sin," she cries, 
 
 " To fiends thy frame I immolate— ^ 
 
 To fiends thy soul I dedicate ! * 
 
 Unbaptised, unwept, unknown— ^ 
 
 In hell 'by sire may claim bis own. 
 
 From hi-r dark eyes fury flashes— 
 
 From her breast "her babe she dashes. 
 
 Gleams the knife— her brow is wrinkled— 
 
 \V ith warm blood her hand is sprinkled I 
 
 Without a gasp— without a groan, 
 
 IJer slumbering infant's soul bath flown. 
 
 At Satban's feet the corse is laid— ^ 
 
 To Sathan's view the knife display'd.* 
 
 A roar of laughter shakes the pile— 
 
 A mocking voice exclaims the while : — 
 
 " By this covenant— by this sign, 
 
 False wife ! false mother ! thou art mine I 
 
 Weal or wo, wbatc'cr betide. 
 
 Thy doom is sealed, infanticide ! 
 
 Shall nor sire's, nor brother's wrath, 
 
 Nor husband's vengeance cross thy path ; 
 
 And on lim, thy blight, thy bane,^ 
 
 Hell's consuminn fire shall rain !" 
 Roimd with whistle and >rith wlioop, 
 Sweip the (vcr-whirlaig troop ; 
 Jn thi caldron bubbling fas', 
 Thr bube is by if^ molht-r cast ! 
 " Enian helun .'" shoiU the crew. 
 And ififir frenzied dunce renew. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The fiend's wild strains are heard no more- 
 Dabbled in her infant's gore, 
 The new-made witch the caldron stirs — 
 Howl the demon-worshippers. 
 Now begin the Sabbath rites — 
 Sathan marks his proselytes ;t 
 
 • Sathan wiU have an ointment composed of the flesh of ^"J^f ^^Jff .^jf ^ 
 that these innocents, being deprived of their lives by these ^^^^/d witches, their 
 poor little souls may be deprived of the glories of Farad ise.-X>e .^^ncre 
 TThe devil marks the sorcerers in a place which he ji^f ers ,"ise°«^J^^-^ ^faS^ 
 this mark is, in some, the figure of a hare ; in others, of a toad s foot, or a blacc 
 cat. — JDclrio, Bisquisitiones Magicee. 
 
178 CRICHTON. 
 
 And each wrinkled liag anoints 
 
 With unguents rank her withered joiats* 
 
 Unimaginable creeds — 
 
 Unimaginable deeds — 
 
 Foul, idolatrous, malicious, 
 
 Baleful, black, and superstitious, 
 
 Every holy form profaning, 
 
 Every sacred symbol staining. 
 
 Each enacts, fulfils, observes, 
 
 At the feet of him he serves. 
 
 Here a goat is canonised, 
 
 Here a bloated toad baptized; 
 Bells around its neck are hung. 
 Velvet on its back is flung ; 
 Mystic words are o'er it said, 
 Poison on its brow is shed.* 
 Here a cock of snowy plume, 
 Flutters o'er the caldron's fume ; 
 By a Hebrew Mooiiel slain, 
 Mnttenng spells of power amain -f 
 
 There within the ground is laid 
 
 An image that a foe may fade, 
 Priest unholy, chanting faintly 
 Masses weird with visage saintly ; 
 VV liiie respond the howling choir 
 Antiphons from dark grimoire,]: 
 Clouds from out the caldron rise, 
 Shrouding fast the star-lit skies. 
 J.ike ribs of mammoth through the gloom. 
 Hoar Montfaucon's pillars loom ; 
 Wave its dead — a grisly row — 
 In the night-breeze to and fro. 
 At a beck from Sathan's hand. 
 Drop to earth tiiat cliarnel band, — 
 Clattering as they touch the ground 
 Witii a harsh and jarring sound. 
 Their fluttering rags, by vulture rent, 
 A ghastly spectacle present; 
 Flakes of flesh of livid hue. 
 With the white bones peeping tln-ough. 
 Blue phosphoric lights are seen 
 In the holes where eyes have been 
 Shining through each hollow scull, 
 Like the gleam of lantern dull 1 
 
 • As tlie sal)l)atli toads are baptized, and dressed in red or black velvet, with a 
 bell at their neck, and anotlier at each foot, the male sponsor holds their head, 
 the female their feet. — De Laitcre. 
 
 t Tlie sacrifice of a snow-white cock is offered by the Jews at the feast of the 
 reconciliation. Tliis wa.s one of the charges brought against the Marechale 
 D'Ancre, condemned under Louis XIII. for sorcery and Judaism. Another ab- 
 surd accusation, to which she pleaded guilty, was the eating of rams' kidneys ! 
 Those kidneys, liowever, we are bound to state, had been blessed as well as deviled. 
 From Cornelius Agrippa we learn that the blood of a white cock is a proper suf- 
 fumigation to the suu ; and that if pulled in pieces, while living, by two men, ac- 
 cording to the ancient and approved practice of the Methanenses, the disjecta 
 membra of the unfortunate bird will repel all unfavourable breezes. The reader of 
 " Rabelais" will also call to mind wbat is said respecting le cocqb/anc in the chap- 
 ter of Garganiiia, treating " de ce qv'est signiji^ par lescouleurs blanc et bleu!" 
 
 t Tic "Black Book." 
 
THE MAGIC RING. ./9 
 
 Hark ! tliey shake tlieir manacles- 
 Hark ! each hag responsive yells 1 
 And her freely-yielded waist 
 Is by fleshless arms embraced. 
 Once again begins the dance — 
 How they foot it— how they prance! 
 Round the <;ibbet-cirqne careering, 
 On their grinning partners fleering. 
 While, as first amid their ranks. 
 The new-made witch with Sathan pranks. 
 
 Fnrions grows their revelry, — 
 
 But sec! — within the eastern sky, 
 A bar of gold proclaims the sun — 
 Hark! the cock crows — all is done! 
 
 ff'it/i a ivbuille and a whoop. 
 
 Vanish straight the wizard troop ; 
 
 On the bare and blasted ground. 
 
 Horned hoofs no moie resound: 
 
 Caldron, goal, and broom aie flown. 
 
 And Montfuucon claims its own. 
 
 •* Thou hast sent for me," said the hag, as she concUulcd her 
 Bong ; " what wouldst thou ? Be brief. Ashtaroth hath called 
 me twice ; the third summons I must obey. There are moi-tals 
 here whose presence frets me ? They are not marked witli the sign, 
 or baptized with the baptism of helL Besides, I am in hiiste to 
 rejoin the revel 1 have quitted. ]\Iy aching bones are unanointed, 
 and the caldron boils over. Speak, and let me go." 
 
 " Daughter of darkness ; foul hag that thou art," cried Rug- 
 gieri, in a voice of thunder ; " was it to hear thine accursed strains 
 that I summoned thee hither ? — no, thy master may call thee, but 
 I will detain thee at my pleasure." So saying, he sprinkled 
 some liquid upon her face. " Now," he continued, as the witch 
 howled with pain; " art thou content to tarry ?" 
 
 " What wouldst thou ?" demanded the hag, fiercely. 
 
 ** I would have the potion which thou alone of all thy brood of 
 Tartarus canst prepare," returned the astrologer; "the draught 
 which will turn love to hate, and hate to love. Hast thou that 
 philter by thee ? If so, give it to me, and thou art free to depart." 
 
 " I have that will serve thy purpose better," responded the hag, 
 drawing from her girdle a silver ring fiishioned like a wreathed 
 serpent; "this enchanted hoop — thou shall have it — but take 
 heed upon whom thou bestowest it ; thy boon may prove unlucky 
 to thyself, for 
 
 Little thrift 
 
 Hath the witch's gift. 
 
 Ha, ha !" 
 
 " Leave th'\t to me," cried liuggieri, impatiently. 
 
 " Ah ! there again," exclaimed the witch, " Ashtaroth calls, hia 
 cone is wrathful A moment, master, a moment, and I come. The 
 wizards are shrieking, the fiend is piping, the unguent is seething I 
 Well, well, I will be there anon. Takeit— take it, 
 
 N 2 
 
180 CRICHTON. 
 
 Willi a blight and with a ban 
 
 On love of maid, and faith of man — 
 
 Take it with the witch's benison, or malison, which you will, liiia 
 listen to me — 
 
 When the moon was in her trine. 
 
 And the star of love benign; 
 
 When a purple gleam was sent 
 
 From red Mars beneficent ; 
 
 And one ray from Saturn flowing, 
 
 Struck the cusp of Scorpio glowing; 
 
 VVas this wizard ring confected, 
 
 And the potent charm perfected. 
 
 Gathered at propitious hour 
 
 Stone and herb of sovereign power. 
 
 Gray aetites, coral white, 
 
 Jasper green, and chrysolite ; 
 
 Vervain, violet, and myrrh. 
 
 And all flowers that frenzy stir, 
 
 Through this ring were swiftly passed, 
 
 And in heaps around it cast. 
 
 And the fragrant pile was liglued. 
 
 And a magic verse recited. 
 
 And the starry signs were sought, 
 
 And their mystic symbols wrought. 
 
 Bound witii spell — inscribed with sign — 
 
 Take this chnrmed ring — 'tis thine ; 
 
 He who wears it need not woo, 
 
 Woman's will 'twill swift subdue." 
 
 And with a wild scream of lauuditer tJio witch vanished. 
 
 The cavalier, meantime, had witnessed Rups'gieri's magical cere- 
 monials with impatience, sou:ie\vhat curbed by astonishment. Pre- 
 pared to treat the whole performance as the juggling exhibition of 
 a cliarlatan, he was, nevertheless, greatly struck by the extreme 
 ingenuity displayed by the astrologer in his contrivances — nor less 
 surprised at the extent of his resources and the nature of the con- 
 federacy required to give due effec^ to his impostures. But when 
 he reflected upon the length of time which Ruggieri had supported 
 the character of a magician, and that tlie turret he inhabited 
 had been erected under his own direction, his wonder at his skill 
 diminished, and his impatience to bring the scene to a close, re- 
 turned with greater vehemence than ever. The delay which 
 occurred was, in one respect, accordant with his wishes, as it 
 enabled him to revolve over some means of extricating himself from 
 the perilous situation in which he was placed, or, at least, of ac- 
 complishing the purpose now dearest to his heart — that of com- 
 municating to Esclairmonde the secret of her birth. For some 
 time he was lost in painful speculation. Suddenly a plan occurred 
 to him — the expedient was hazardous — but it was the only one 
 which could be adopted, with any probability of success. Taking 
 a packet from his bosom, he unfastened his scarf, in the folds of 
 which he placed the letters together with the knot of ribands given 
 
THE TWO MASKS. 181 
 
 to him by Esclalrmonde, and then calling Druid towards him, con- 
 trived in the gloom, unperceived, to swathe the bandage firmly 
 r rrxd the body of the dog. This done, with heart elate, he arose, 
 and advanced towards the astrologer. At this juncture it was that 
 the witch disappeared. Ruggieri heard his step, and, in a voice in 
 which rage struggled with terror, exclaimed — 
 
 " Retire — retire — signer — back, or you endanger soul and body 
 — tread not wuthin that magic circle — the girl is yours — be patient 
 an instant. Take this ring — the witchs gilt — it Avill render your 
 suit resistless — and withdraw, or by Orlmasis, I will exert my art 
 to enforce compliance with my injunctions." 
 
 So saying, Ruggieri thrust the ring upon the cavalier's fin- 
 ger, and stamped upon the floor. The latter uttered an exclama- 
 tion of impatience, but at that moment his mantle was seized 
 behind with such unlocked for energy, that he was involuntarily 
 dragged several paces backwards. Placing his hand upon his 
 poignard, the cavalier was about to free himself from his assailant, 
 who, he doubted not, was the dwarf, but his design was checked 
 by the relinquisliment of the grasp, and by the sudden opening of 
 a curtain disclosing to his view, within a small recess, the sleeping 
 Cmuve of the Gelosa. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TWO MASKS. 
 
 One of these men is genius to the other— 
 
 Which is the natural man, 
 
 And which the spirit ?— Who sliall decypher them ? 
 
 COMEOY OF ErROKS. 
 
 Suspended over the pallet upon which she lay, a lamp threw 
 a faint light upon the features of the unfortunate singer. Her 
 countenance was deathly pale ; and though her slumber was calm, 
 it was evidently not the repose induced by " nature's best nurse," 
 but the torpor occasioned by some medicated potion. Escaped 
 from their confinement, her raven tresses wandered over her person, 
 still clothed in the boyish garb of the morning ; and their dusky 
 hue contrasted strikingly with the exceeding fairness of her neck 
 and throat, now partially exposed by the disorder of her habili • 
 ments. Something there was in her situation so touching as power* 
 fully to enlist the sympathies of the cavalier in her behalf ; and 
 (shall we injure him in the esteem of our fair readers if we confess 
 6o much ?) something so resistless in her beauty as to awaken io 
 
182 CRICHTON. 
 
 his bosom a momentary emotion more akin to love than to pity. 
 In paUiation of this brief disloyalty we may add that Catherine de 
 Medicis, hitherto a stranger to the attractions of the Gelosa — as 
 she regarded her features with some attention was so struck with, 
 her beauty, that she no longer felt any surprise at the extravagant 
 passion with which she had inspired her illustrious admirer. 
 
 " By our lady !" she exclaimed, '• the girl is fairer than I 
 thought her. Is it possible that that lovely creature can be lowly 
 born ?" 
 
 "It would seem not from the amulet I hold," replied the cava- 
 lier. 
 
 "Permit me to examine that key more narrowly, signor," said 
 Ruggieri, advancing towards them, " I may be able to resolve her 
 majesty's question. Meantime I pray you take this phial. The 
 damsel sleeps, as you perceive, but let her breathe from this flagon, 
 and her slumbers will at once be dissipated." 
 
 " 'Twere better she should awake no more than to dishonour," 
 murmured the cavalier, as he took the phial, and restored tlie golden 
 key to Ruggieri. " Poor girl !" he mentally ejaculated as he 
 approached the couch, — " my chance of rescuing thee from perse- 
 cution, and li'om what is worse than death, is now slight indeed. 
 But the attempt shall be made. I have vowed to accompHsh thy 
 rescue, and I icill accomplish it or perish in the effort !" 
 
 And with these musings he employed the phial as directed 
 by Ruggieri, nor had he to wait long for the result of his applica- 
 tion. The Gelosa started and unclosed her eyes ; but as her gaze 
 fell upon the cavalier's sable mask, with a scream of terror she 
 hastily averted her head. 
 
 " He here again," she shrieked, — " mother of mercy, shield me 
 lom this demon !" 
 
 The cavalier bent his head over the shrinking maiden, and 
 in a low tone breathed in her ear her name — " Ginevra." 
 
 Not more suddenly does the falcon turn her wing at her master's 
 call, than did the Gelosa start at the cavalier's voice. TrembHng 
 from head to foot, she raised herself upon the couch — she bent hei 
 gaze upon his figure — she peered into the holes of his mask as if to 
 seek some further confirmation of her hopes — she dashed aside her 
 blinding tresses, passed her fingers rapidly across her brow, as if to 
 collect her scattered senses, and in a low tone, exclaimed — " That 
 voice — do I still dream ? — that voice coupled with that hideous 
 phantom — methinks I heard my own name pronounced by tones, 
 so loved, so tender ; but it must have been a dream — how should he 
 know my name ? Oh ! I am very faint." And she again sank 
 backwards." 
 
 The cavalier regarded her with deep commiseration ; but scarcely 
 knowing how far in her present state of excitement it would be 
 prudent to trust her with a knowledge of his plans, he deemed it 
 
THE TWO MASKS. 183 
 
 advisable to resume the disguised tone of voice he had adopted in 
 his conference with Catherine. " For whom do you take me, 
 Ginevra?" he asked. 
 
 " For whom?" exclaimed the maiden, — " I took you for ananffel 
 of light, but I find you are a spirit of darkness. Hence and 
 leave me. Torture me no longer with your presence. Have I not 
 already endured agony at your liands ? Must dishonour likewise 
 be my portion. — Never. I have resisted all your efforts — your 
 blandishments — your entreaties — your force — and I will continue 
 to resist you. I can yet defy your power, as I defied you in your 
 palace at Mantua. Woman's love may be fickle, but her hate is 
 constant. I hate you, prince, and i will die a thousand deaths 
 rather than yield me to your embraces." 
 
 As Ginevra spoke, she became, lor the first time, aware of the 
 disordered state of her apparel. If her complexion had been here- 
 tofore as white as that of the mountain snow, its hue was as suddenly 
 changed as that of the same snow when it is tinged by thepurplintr 
 sunset. Neck, cheek, and throat were turned to crimson by the 
 hot and blushing tide, while sliame, mingled with resentment, was 
 vividly depicted upon her glowing countenance. 
 
 "Ah! false and felon knight," she cried, bitterly, " thou hast 
 done well to steal upon a maiden's privacy — upon lier slumbers — 
 but get hence, or by tlie Virgin 1 will tear off this bandage from 
 my wound and breathe out my life before thine eyes. Ah ! wliy 
 Avas not that blow more surely aimed — wliy did I not perish in 
 saving Crichton !" 
 
 " And do you love Crichton thus devotedly? ' asked the cava- 
 lier. 
 
 '* Do I love him?" repeated Ginevra — " do I love heaven — adore 
 its saints — hate thee ? — Love him /" she continued, passionately — 
 " he is to me life — nay, more than life. Understand me, — thou 
 whose dark lieart can only couple love with desire — the affection 
 which 1 bear to Crichton is tliat of the devotee for the saint. He 
 is my heart's idol, its divinity. I aspire not to his love. I ask for 
 no return. I am content to love without hope. It were happiness 
 too much to die for him: but having failed in that, think not I 
 will live for another." 
 
 " Then live for him !" said the cavalier in an under-tone, and 
 resuming his natural voice. 
 
 To describe the effect produced upon the Gelosa by these words, 
 and by the sudden change of tone, were impossible. She passed 
 her hand across her brow — she gazed upon her masked companion 
 in doubt and amazement, and then exclaimed under her breath, 
 and with a look, as if her life hung upon the issue of her inquiry 
 —"Is it?" 
 
 " It isy" returned the cavalier. And her head declined upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
iS4 CEICHTON. 
 
 Catherine was not more surprised at this sudden change in the 
 Gelosa's manner than the astrologer. 
 
 "Thy spell begins to work, good father," she said, " the girl 
 relents." 
 
 " Maledizione !" returned Ruggieri, furiously. 
 
 "How! — art thou not satisfied with thine own handiwork?" 
 demanded Catherine, in surprise, " thou art distraught." 
 
 " 'Tis because it is mine own handiwork that I am distraught," 
 returned the astrologer. " My gracious mistress," he continued, 
 throwing himself at the queen's feet, who viewed his conduct with 
 increased astonishment, "I have served you faithfully — " 
 
 " Go to — what wouldst thou ?" 
 
 "I ask a boon in requital of my long services — a light request, 
 madam." 
 
 " Name it." 
 
 " Suffer not yon girl to quit the chamber to-night. Or, if she 
 must go hence, let me accompany her." 
 
 Catherine returned no answer, but clapping her hands together, 
 the dwarf, in obedience to her signal, rushed to the trap-door. 
 
 To return to the cavalier. His efforts, seconded by his kindly 
 (vords, speedily restored the Gelosa to consciousness. Gently dis- 
 engaging herself i'rom his (;mbrace, and casting down her large 
 eyes, as if fearing to meet his gaze, she thus, in a low tone, 
 addressed him : " Pardon me, noble signer, my late freedom of 
 speech. My lips have betrayed the secret of my heart, but on my 
 soul I would not so have spoken had I deemed that my words 
 would ever have reached your ears." 
 
 " I need not that assurance, fair Ginevra," returned the cavaUer, 
 " and it pains me to think that your love is fixed upon one 
 who can only requite your devotion with a brother's tenderness. 
 But listen to me. With this key you will pass, by a subterranean 
 outlet, to the Hotel de Soissons. Escape will then be easy. Tarry 
 without its walls, on the quarter nigh the church of Saint Eustache, 
 for an hour. If in that space I join you not, depart, and go upon 
 the morrow to the Louvre. Seek out the Demoiselle Esclairmonde, 
 — do you mind that name, Ginevra ?" 
 
 " I do — " gasped the Gelosa. 
 
 " You will find her amongst the attendants of the Queen Louise. 
 Bear to her this paper." 
 
 " 'Tis stained with blood," cried Ginevra, as she received the 
 letter. 
 
 " 'Tis traced Avith my dagger's point," rejoined the cavalier. 
 "Will you convey it to her?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 *' And now," continued the cavaHer, " collect all your energies, 
 fair maiden. You must leave this chamber alone." 
 
 ♦' And you—?" 
 
 " Heed me not ; a fate dearer than mine hangs upon tnat paper 
 
THE TWO MASKS. 185 
 
 i — upon your safety. You have said you love me. You have ap- 
 proved your devotion. But I claim a further proof Whatever 
 you may hear or see, tarry not. When I bid you, go. You have 
 a poiffnard — ha ?" 
 
 " What Italian woman is without one?" 
 
 *' It is well. You who dread not to die, need fear nothing. 
 Your hand. I am once more the mask. Be firm — ha — it is too 
 late." 
 
 The latter exclamation was uttered as the cavalier perceived 
 the trap-door open, and Catherine's guard ascend. One by one the 
 dark figures stepped upon the floor. At last the mask appeared 
 bound, and conducted by Loupgarou and Caravaja. 
 
 " What means this ?" inquired the affrighted Gelosa. 
 
 " Ask not, but follow me," replied the cavalier, advancing 
 quickly towards the queen. 
 
 " Madam," he exclaimed, " before this execution takes place, 
 I pray you suffer this maiden to withdraw. Let her await our 
 coming forth within the corridor of your palace." 
 
 " Be it so," returned Catherine. 
 
 " Go," whispered the cavalier to Ginevra — *' you have the key 
 — there is the masked door." 
 
 " She stirs not hence," said Ruggieri, seizing the maiden's arm. 
 
 '* What mean'st thou, old man," cried the cavalier. "What 
 right hast thou to oppose her departure ?" 
 
 " A father's right," returned Ruggieri — " she is my child." 
 
 " Thy cliild !" screamed the Gelosa, recoiling — " oh no — no — 
 not thy child." 
 
 " Tliou art the daughter of Ginevra Malatesta — thou art like- 
 wise my daughter." 
 
 " Believe him not, dear signer," cried the Gelosa, clinging to 
 the cavalier — " he raves — I am not his daughter." 
 
 " By my soul I speak the truth," ejaculated Ruggieri. 
 
 "My patience is exhausted," exclaimed the queen; "let the 
 girl tarry where she is. I have not done with her. Crichton's 
 execution shall no longer be delayed." 
 
 " His execution !" cried the Gelosa, with a thrilling scream. 
 "Is it Crichton whom you would put to death ?" 
 
 " Be calm," whispered the cavalier — " Heed not me — but in the 
 confusion make good your own escape." 
 
 " Thou hast said it, maiden," returned Catherine, sternly smiling 
 -^" that mask conceals thy lover's features — " 
 
 " That mask !— ha !" 
 
 At this moment Catherine again clapped her hands. There was 
 an instant movement amongst the men-at-arms. Quick as thought 
 ine mask was dragged forwards. A block of wood was placed 
 upon the ground by Caravaja. The sword of Loupgarou gleamed 
 in the air. 
 
186 CRICHTON. 
 
 The cavalier placed himself between CatherHe and the execu- 
 tioners. His hand was laid upon his vizard. 
 
 "You have said the withdrawal of your mask should be the 
 signal of Crichton's doom," cried the queen, addressing the cava- 
 lier, " are you prepared, signor ?" 
 
 " I am prepared, madame," replied the cavalier, calmly, " to 
 meet my own fate. Not against yon mask, but against me, must 
 your vengeance be directed." 
 
 And as he spoke, he withdrew his vizard. 
 
 " Malediction !" exclaimed Catherine, as she beheld the features 
 of the Scot, " traitor ! — have we then been thy dupe all this while 
 — have I been betrayed into the avowal of my most secret 
 tcliemes — into the commission of a grievous and scarce pardonable 
 indignity to my nearest and dearest ally ? Have I — but thy 
 cunning shall avail thee little — Dieu merci ! — thou art still in my 
 power. Don Vincenzo," she continued, turning to the mask, 
 whose vizard having been in the confusion hastily removed by 
 Caravaja, discovered dark and haughty lineaments, inflamed with 
 choler, but strongly impressed with the lofty and peculiar character 
 proper to the southern noble — (a character which the reader will 
 at once understand if he will call to mind the grave and majestic 
 Venetian faces of Titian) — " Don Vincenzo," said Catherine, ad- 
 dressing the prince., who still remained surrounded by the guard 
 — " what reparation can I offer you for the affront I have thus 
 unintentionally put upon you ?" 
 
 " One only reparation will I accept," cried Vincenzo, proudly 
 shaking off the grasp of Loupgarou, and advancing towards the 
 queen. 
 
 " Give me to understand your wishes," returned Catherine. 
 
 " I claim the life of my adversary," returned Gonzaga. 
 
 " Now, by my soul, prince," said Catherine, in a deep whisper, 
 " you have asked a boon I cannot grant. Crichton's life is ne- 
 cessary to my safety — to yovr safety. He must die.*" 
 
 " He shall die, madam, upon the morrow," returned Vincenzo, 
 in the same tone : " but the blazon of Gonzaga were for ever 
 stained, — my honour as a knight for ever spotted, if he, whom I 
 have defied to mortal combat, should be assassinated in my pre- 
 sence. He must be set free." 
 
 " Never," replied Catherine, " his death will lie at my door. 
 He is in possession of my schemes — of Anjou's plot — and of a 
 secret of vital import, which I deemed I had communicated to 
 yourself ; no, he must die." 
 
 " I had rather perish upon the block, by the hands of those mis- 
 creants, than suffer my honour to be thus sullied," exclaimed Gon- 
 zaga. " Hear me, madam," he cried, aloud. " Suffer him to 
 depart, and I will gage my princely faith that the Chevalier Crich- 
 ton betrays no secret — reveals no plot. The laws of honour, im- 
 
THE TWO MASKS, 187 
 
 perative on me, are not less binding upon him. Let him depart 
 without fear, and intrust the work of vengeance to me. To-mor- 
 row we meet as mortal enemies — to-night we part as fair foemen.'* 
 
 " Gage not your faitli for me, prince," said Crichton, who with 
 Bword and dagger fiercely confronted his assailants, " I can neither 
 accept life nor freedom upon the terms you propose. If I depart 
 hence, the secret I have obtained will be revealed — nay, if my 
 voice be silenced in death, my last gasp will be cheered with the 
 conviction that other tongues than mine will breathe it for me." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Catherine. 
 
 "My vengeance will survive me, madam,"" continued the Scot; 
 ** you may float this chamber with my blood — may hew me limb 
 from limb — but that secret will escape you — nay, it has already 
 escaped you. I may never behold her more, may never exchange 
 word with her again, but, ere to-morrow's sun shall set, the prooi 
 of her birth will be laid before the Princess of Conde." 
 
 ** Thou liest I" cried Catherine. 
 
 *'W]iere are the despatches of Tavannes, the letters of the 
 Cardinal of Lorraine, your own written authority?" demanded 
 Crichton. 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Catherine, hastily glancing at the packet she 
 held within her hand — "Traitor ! where are they ?" 
 
 " On their way to the Louvre," replied Crichton. 
 
 " Lnpossible !" 
 
 *' I have found a faithful messenger — " 
 
 ** En verdad, sa magestad, this braggart's only messenger can 
 have been the great dog who accompanied him," exclaimed Cara- 
 vaja. *' The accursed brute dashed down the trap door as we as- 
 cended, and 1 remarked that he had a scarf twisted round his 
 throat." 
 
 " That scarf contained the letters," said Crichton, with a smile 
 of triumpli. 
 
 *' And the hound escaped you ?" demanded Catherine, of the 
 Spaniard. 
 
 " It is no dog, but a fiend in bestial shape," replied Caravaja ; 
 " the phantasm was out of sight in a moment." 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said Catherine, advancing towards him, 
 and speaking in an under-tone, " those papers are of more value to 
 me than your life. I will capitulate with you. Upon the condi- 
 tions offered to you by the Prince of Mantua, you may depart 
 freely." 
 
 " I have said that I reject them, madam. Bid your assassins 
 advance. To Heaven and Saint Andrew I commit my cause." 
 
 " I will die with you," murmured Ginevra. 
 
 " Rash girl, thou hast no part in tliis fray," cried Ruggieri ; 
 "hence with thy father." 
 
 " Never," shrieked the Gelosa, " I will never quit the Signer 
 Crichton's side — the blow which is his death, shall be mine likewise. 
 
188 CRICHTON. 
 
 Let me go, I say. I am not thy child. Thou hast invented this 
 etory to betray me." 
 
 " Here me, Ginevra — 1 have proofs — " 
 
 •' No, I will not listen to thee. Thou wouldst have bartered my 
 honour for the Prince of Mantua's gold. Was that a father's 
 love ? But if thou art my father, leave me, and draw not my 
 blood, as well as that of my mother, upon thy head ; for, by our 
 Lady of Pity ! I will plunge this steel to my heart rather than 
 yield to thy licentious master." 
 
 " Ginevra, I would free thee from him. In mercy listen to me/' 
 But ere he could proceed, the fiery girl drew her dagger, and ex- 
 tricating herself from his grasp, once more took refuge by the side 
 of Crichton. 
 
 Catherine, meantime, despite the indignant remonstrances of 
 Gonzaga, who, being unarmed, could take no part in the conflict, 
 had commanded the men-at-arms to assault the Scot. 
 
 " Upon him, knaves," she cried, " wliat do you fear ? — he is 
 but one — strike ! and spare not." 
 
 Crichton breasted their fury, as the rock resists and hurls 
 back the breakers. The gleam of their swords flashed in the 
 eyes of the Gelosa; the clash of steel resounded in her ears. The 
 strife was terrific. But amidst it all the Scot remained unin- 
 jured ; not a thrust could reach him, while several desperate wounds 
 were received by his antagonists. The vociferations, the clamour, 
 the trampling of feet were deafening. Suddenly the noise ceased. 
 Catherine looked to see if her enemy had fallen, but she beheld 
 him in an attitude of defence, calmly regarding his antagonists, 
 who had drawn back to take breath and consider upon some new 
 plan of attack. Mortified and dismayed, the queen began to 
 apprehend the issue of the combat might yet determine in favour 
 of Crichton, when she beheld a dark figure stealing behind him. 
 It was the dwarf With stealthy steps she saw him approach 
 the Scot. He bounded forward — a dagger was in his grasp — when 
 at that moment he was felled by the stiletto of the Gelosa. Cathe- 
 rine could not restrain an exclamation of displeasure. 
 
 " Cravens," she cried, " ye lack the nerves of men — give me 
 a sword, and I will show you how to wield it." 
 
 Thus exhorted, the ruffian band renewed the conflict, and 
 with better success than lefbre. A few blows only had been 
 exchanged, when Crichton's sword, a light rapier, intended 
 more for ornament than use, was shivered, and with the excep- 
 tion of his poignard, a feeble delence against six trenchant 
 blades, he lay at their mercy. A savage yell was raised by his 
 opponents. A few moments more they saw would now decide the 
 fight. Resolved, however, to sell his life dearly, Crichton darted 
 forward, and seizing the foremost of the crew by the throat, plunged 
 his dagger into his breast. The wretch fell with a deep groan. His 
 comrades pressed on to avenge him. With his cloak twisted round 
 his arm, Crichton contrived for some moments to ward off their 
 
f- 
 
THE TWO MARK3. 189 
 
 blows and rid himself of anotlier foe. But it was evident Avhat 
 must be the result of a contest so unequal: nevertheless, the Scot's 
 defence was so gallant as still to leave his enemies in doubt, who, as 
 he seconded a leint with a thrust at Loupgarou, his foot slipj)cd upon 
 the floor, now floating in blood, and he stumbled. Swifter than 
 thought Ginevra interposed her own person between Loupgarou 
 and Crichton, and the blow intended for him must have transfixed 
 her, had not a loud cry from Ruggieri arrested the hand of the 
 giant. 
 
 " J>pare my child! — spare her! my gracious mistress !" ejaculated 
 the distracted astrologer. 
 
 But Catherine was deaf to his entreaties. 
 
 " Spare neither," she said, sternly 
 
 Crichton, however, had recovered his feet. A word even in 
 that brief interval had passed between him and the (ielosa. Ere 
 his intention could be divined, he had flown together witli tlie maid 
 to the recess — and the curtains lading at the same moment to the 
 ground, concealed them from view. An instant afterwards, when 
 these hangings were withdrawn by Caravaja and Loupgarou, they 
 had disappeared. A masked door within the wall, half open, 
 showed the means by which their flight had been eflected. " Sangre 
 de Dios !" cried Caravaja, as this door was suddenly closed, and a 
 bar, as was evident from the sound, drawn across it on the other 
 side, " our purpose is frustrated." 
 
 "Cap-de-diou !" ejaculated Loupgarou, "whither doth that 
 outlet lead?" 
 
 As he spoke, the giant felt his leg suddenly compressed by a 
 nervous gripe, while, at the same time, a noise like the hissing of a 
 serpent sounded in his ears. Starting at the touch, Loupgarou 
 beheld the red orbs of Elberich fixed upon him. The unfortunate 
 manikin, mortally wounded, had contrived to crawl towards 
 him. The stream of life, flowing in thick and inky drops from his 
 side, was ebbing fast — but the desire of vengeance lent him strength. 
 Directing the giant's attention towards a particular part of the 
 wall, he touched a spring and another but a smaller door flew open. 
 Through this aperture ilie dwarf crept, beckoning Loupgarou, who 
 with Caravaja and his two remaining followers instantly went after 
 him. 
 
 Scarcely had the party disappeared, when the door through 
 which Crichton had approached the turret from the queen's palace, 
 revolved upon its hinges, and the Vicomte de Joyeuse, accom- 
 panied by Chicot, and attended by an armed retinue, entered the 
 chamber. He cast a quick glance round the room, and his coun- 
 tenance fell as he beheld the bloody testimonials of the recent fray. 
 
 " Monseigneur," he said, advancing towards Gonzaga, who 
 remained motionless with his arms folded on his breast, " I have 
 it in his majesty's commands to assure myself of your person till the 
 morrow." 
 
190 CRiCHTOir. 
 
 ** A prisoner !" exclaimed Gonzaga, his hand vainly searching for 
 his sword, — " know you whom you thus address ?" 
 
 " I know only that I address one whom I hold to be a loyal 
 cavalier," returned Joyeuse, quickly, " but when I gaze around thii 
 ■chamber, and behold these marks of butchery, doubts arise in m]^ 
 mind which I would fain have removed. Whom have I the 
 honour to place under arrest ?" 
 
 " The Prince of Mantua," replied Catherine ; "the king's arrest 
 cannot attach to him." 
 
 "Vive Dieu!" exclaimed the vicomte, "I am indeed much 
 honoured. But you are mistaken, madam — his majesty's arrest 
 <3oes attach to the prince. Messieurs, to your charge I commit his 
 highness. My duty, however, is only half fulfilled. May I crave 
 to know where I shall meet with the Chevalier Crichton, if he be, 
 as I conjecture, within this turret ?" 
 
 " You will scarce need to assure yourself of his person, mon- 
 •seigneur," replied Catherine, smiling ; " my attendants have already 
 ■saved you that trouble." 
 
 " How, madam !"" exclaimed Joyeuse, starting. 
 
 " Outcries and footsteps resound from this doorway," ejaculated 
 "Chicot. " Methinks I hear the voice of Crichton — there again — 
 to the rescue. Monsieur le Vicomte."" 
 
 " Prince," cried Joyeuse, " you shall answer to me for the life 
 of the Chevalier Crichton. In his quarrel with you I was chosen 
 his parrain, and by Saint Paul, if he have perished by assassi- 
 nation in your presence, I will proclaim you felon and craven, 
 throughout every court in Christendom." 
 
 " Monsieur le Vicomte, you do well to threaten a prisoner," 
 replied Gonzaga, haughtily. " But a season will arrive when you 
 shall answer to 7ne for these doubts." 
 
 " And tome likewise," added Catherine, haughtily. " Monsieur 
 le Vicomte, I command you and your followers to withdraw, on 
 pain of incurring my deadliest resentment." 
 
 " I ain his majesty's representative, madame," returned Joyeuse, 
 proudly, " and invested with his authority to seek out and detain 
 :a noble cavalier, somewhile distinguished as ' the mask,' together 
 with the Chevalier Crichton, during his sovereign pleasure. You 
 ^re best aware what account you will render of the latter to hij 
 majesty." 
 
 " To the rescue ! to the rescue! monseigneur," screamed Chicot, 
 ■** I hear a female voice." 
 
 " My daughter ! my daughter !*" ejaculated Ruggieri. 
 
 " Some of you take charge of yon caitiff," exclaimed Joyeuse, 
 pointing with his sword to the astrologer; " he is concerned, I doubt 
 not, in this foul transaction — and now follow me who may ? 
 Montjoie ! Saint Denis ! — on ! — " 
 
 So saying, he dashed through the narrow portal, and sprang 
 -swiftly up a dark and winding staircase, down which the echoes of 
 "Oatlis and other vociferations now distinctly resounded. 
 
!9. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE COLUMN OF CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. 
 
 On luy attaclioit ung cable en quelque haute tour pendant en terre : par icelluy 
 avecques deux mains montoit. puis devaloit si roidement, et si asseurement, que 
 plus ne pourriez parniy ung pre bien cfiallo. 
 
 Rabelais. Garyantua. Liv. I. Ch. xxiii. 
 
 Opposite the Rue de Viarmes, and reared against the circular 
 walls of the Halle-au-Ble — with its base washed by a fountain,^ 
 its shaft encircled by a cylindrical dial, and huge gnomonic projec- 
 tion, and its summit surmounted by a strange spherical cage of iron 
 — stands, at tliis day, a tall, fluted, richly decorated, Doric column; 
 bearing upon its aspect the reverend impress of antiquity. The 
 fountain and dial are of modern construction ; the spherical crest 
 is ancient. Tradition assigns this observatory, for such it is, to 
 Catherine de INIedicis. From hence she is said to have nightly 
 perused, Avithin the starry scroll of heaven, the destinies of the 
 great city stretched out at her feet — while, from the same situa- 
 tion, Ruggieri is reported to have gathered the lore by which lie 
 was enabled to avert the stroke of danger, and strengthen and 
 consolidate his mistresss power. 
 
 The iron cage alluded to, and which is supposed to have some 
 recondite allusion to the mysteries of astrology, was, in all proba- 
 bility, contrived by the Florentine seer. Its form has given rise 
 to much speculation. Consisting of a circular frame-work of iron, 
 crossed by other circles, and su]iported by a larger hemispliere of 
 iron bars ; — " des cercles et des dendcercles entrelaces" says jM. Pin- 
 gre ; — the object of which it is diilicult to conceive, unless they 
 were intended as types of the science, to the uses of which the 
 structure was devoted; and erected after the designs of the cele- 
 brated Jean Bullan, this pillar situated, at the period under con- 
 sideration, in the angle of a lateral court of the Hotel de Soissons, 
 is the sole remnant now existing of that vast and magnificent edifice. 
 Its history is remarkable — but it may suffice to say, that it was pre- 
 served from the general demolition of Catherine's palace by the 
 generosity of a private individual, Le Sieur Petit de Bachaumont, 
 by whom it was redeemed at the price of 1500 livres. The effect of 
 the observatory is materially injured by its contiguity to the Halle- 
 au-Ble, and its symmetry destroyed by an horologiographical 
 contrivance, as well as by a tasteless tablet placed above its plintli ; 
 but notwithstanding these drawbacks — viewed either in connexion 
 with its historical associations, or with the mysterious and exploded 
 
192 ClilCliTON. 
 
 science of which it is a relic, — the column of Catherine de Medicia 
 can scarcely be regarded with indifference. Within its deeply-cut 
 chamfering, now almost effaced by time, are still to be traced em- 
 blematic devices, similar to those heretofore mentioned as adorning 
 the walls of Ruggieri's laboratory. The elevation of the pillar 
 from the ground is nearly ^ hundred feet, and its diameter some- 
 what more than nine feet. 
 
 W hen Crichton and the Gelosa disappeared through the recess, 
 their course was for a few moments shaped along a low, narrow 
 passage, evidently contrived within the thickness of the wall, which, 
 after a brief but toilsome ascent, conducted them to what appeared, 
 from the increased height of the roof, and greater space between 
 the vails, to be a sort of landing-place. Whether there was any 
 further outlet from this spot, the profound darkness in which all 
 was involved, left them no means of ascertaining ; but as they tarried 
 for an instant to recover breath, Crichton took advantage of the 
 occa ion, warmly to express his thanks to his fair companion for the 
 succour she had so opportunely afforded him. 
 
 " But for you," he said, " fair Ginevra, I had perished beneath 
 the daggers of Catherine's assassins. To you I owe my life a second 
 time, — how — how shall I requite your devotion ?" 
 
 " By suffering me to be your slave," cried the impassioned girl; 
 bathing his hand with tears, — " to remain ever near you." 
 
 " You shall never leave me," returned the Scot, kindly, carry- 
 ing his gratitude to a scarce allowable length; for as he spoke, his 
 lips sought the burning mouth of the Gelosa, while his arms pressed 
 liei' closely to his bosom. 
 
 "Santa Madonna!" exclaimed Ginevra, hastily drawing back 
 her head, deeply abaslied at the impulse to which she had yielded, 
 " our pursuers are at hand." 
 
 At the same moment, also, Crichton became aware of the sound 
 of hoarse voices, and approaching footsteps. 
 
 " There is — there must be a further outlet — this chamber com- 
 municates with the queen's observatory," cried the Gelosa, " I 
 remember I was dragged to some such place as this, by him who 
 falsely calls himself my lather, a few hours ago. Each wall 
 in this frightful turret is perforated, like a state dungeon, with secret 
 passages. Step forward, sweet signor, and you will find the 
 outlet" 
 
 With outstretched hand Crichton guided himself rapidly along 
 the wall. The aperture was instantly discovered. His foot was 
 on the flight of steps. 
 
 " Follow me, Ginevra," he cried, extending his hand in the 
 direction of the damsel. But a grasp was laid upon her, from 
 which she could not extricate herself. At the same moment a 
 hissing laugh proclaimed her captor to be the vindictive dwarf. 
 With supernatural force the mannikin twined himself round her 
 
THE COLUaiN OF CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. \d6 
 
 person. The maiden felt herself sinking. His hot breath was 
 upon her face — his horrible mouth approached her throat. She 
 experienced a sharp and sudden thrill of pain. The vampire having 
 no other weapon, sought to iix his teeth in her neck. In this ex- 
 tremity, as she gave herself up for lost, Elberich's grasp relaxed, 
 and the monster sank an inert mass to tlie earth. Crichton's poig- 
 nard had freed her from her foe ; while his arm bore her up the 
 spiral stairs, just as Loupgarou and his crew reached the landing- 
 place. The giant heard the struggle between Ginevra and Elberich 
 — he heard also the fall of the latter, and with a bound sprang for- 
 ward. He was too late to secure his prey, and stumbling over 
 the prostrate body of the dwarf, impeded with his huge person the 
 further advance of his followers. Aluttering deep execrations, he 
 then arose and began to ascend the column. After mounting some 
 forty or fifty steps, a dull light, admitted through a narrow slit in 
 the pillar, cheered his progress. 
 
 *' By my fay,'* cried Loupgarou, as he gazed through this loop- 
 hole upon the gardens of the Hotel dc Soissons, just visible by the 
 uncertain light of a clouded moon, "we are within her majesty's 
 observatory — those are the royal gardens — and yonder arc the old 
 towers of Saint Eustache." 
 
 " En verdad companero," replied Caravaja, thrusting forward 
 his \'isage, and surveying in his turn the scene, *' thou hast said it. 
 It must be the structure I have so often gazed at from the Rue des 
 Etuves, with the cage in which folks say Ruijgieri keeps Senor 
 Sathanas confined. lilany a time have I seen that sooty imp, whose 
 carcase we have left in the room below, practise a thousand limtastic 
 trickeries upon those iron bars. There used to be a rope from 
 which he would Hing himself headlong from the summit, and 
 ewing backwards and forwards like an ape or a juggler, to the terror 
 of all pious observers. — Ha ! — What means that clamour and clash- 
 ing of swords? There are others at work besides ourselves. 
 Vamos camarada !" 
 
 " Softly," replied the lethargic giant, pausing to take breath — 
 *' we do not need hurry ourselves, quo macjis pj'operare studeo, eo 
 me impedio mayis — as we say in the schools ! We are certain our 
 Scot is in this turret — we are certain, moreover, that he cannot 
 descend without passing us — we are furthermore certain, that we 
 are four, and that he is but one ; ergo we may safely reckon upon 
 his head — and upon our reward." 
 
 *' Concedo consequeniiam,'' returned Caravaja, " but proceed, 
 most redoubted Goliath, or this puissant David may prove too much 
 for thee after all. Ha ! hear you that shot ? Some one has dis- 
 covered him from below — mount! — despatch!" 
 
 Thus urged, Loupgarou recommenced the ascent. Another and 
 another loophole showed him the elevation he had attained, and 
 at length his mighty head came in contact with a plate of iron, 
 
 O 
 
194 CRTCHTOX. 
 
 whicli proved to be a trap-door opening upon tiic summit of the 
 column, but which was now fastened on the other side. Here was an 
 unexpected diliicuUy thrown in their patli, not entirely, however, 
 to the dissatisi'action of the giant, who, despite his bulk and sinew, 
 like all other men of vast proportions, was of a somewhat craven 
 nature at bottom, and regarded the approaching struggle with con- 
 siderable misgiving. Ho deemed it necessary, liowever, to conceal 
 his gratification under a mask of oath and bluster, and seconding 
 his words with a show of resolution, applied his shoulder to the 
 trap-door with so much good-will, that, to his astonishment, it at 
 once yielded to his efforts. To recede was now impossible. Cara- 
 vaja and his comrr.dcs were swearing in the rear; so putting a bold 
 face upon the matter, he warily emerged. What was his surprise, 
 and we may say delight, to find the roof deserted. In proportion 
 to his security his choler increased. 
 
 "Hola! — my masters," he roared, "we are tricked — duped — 
 deceived. This Crichton is in league with the fiend. He has made 
 himself a pair of Avings, and flown away with the girl upon his 
 back — Cap-de-diou ! we are robbed of our reward." 
 
 " San diablo I" exclaimed Caravaja, as he also emerged from the 
 trap-door. '* Gone ! — ha — higados ! — I perceive the device." 
 
 To return to the Scot and his fair charsfe. Sustaininsr the 
 terrified girl, who was so much exhausted as to be wholly un- 
 able to assist herself, within his arms, Crichton rapidly threaded 
 the steps of the column. Arrived at the summit, he gently 
 deposited Ginevra upon the roof, and stood with his dagger in hand 
 prepared to strike down the first of his assailants who should appear 
 at the mouth of the staircase. The cold fresh air now playing upon 
 her cheek in some degree revived the Gelosa. She endeavoured to 
 raise herself, but her strength was unequal to the effort. At this 
 moment an outcry was heard below. It was the voice of Blount 
 calling to his dog. Crichton uttered an exclamation of delight. 
 The packet had reached its destination — it would be delivered to 
 Esclairmonde. Scarcely had this thouglit passed through his mind, 
 when the sudden report of an arquebuss was heard — succeeded by 
 a deep howl. Blount's shouts, mingled with those of Ogilvy, arose 
 ioud and stunning. The clash of swords succeeded. Crichton 
 could no longer resist tlie impulse that prompted him to glance at 
 the combatants. He leaned over the edge of the pillar, but all that 
 he could discern was the Englishman engaged in sharp conflict with 
 several armed figures partially concealed from his view by the inter- 
 vening shrubs of the garden. Druid was by his side, foaming, furious, 
 and with his teeth fastened upon one of his master's assailants. 
 The scarf was gone. But whether or not it was in Blount's posses- 
 sion, he was unable to ascertain. As he turned in doubt and some 
 dejection towards the trap-door, his eye chanced upon a coil of rope 
 attached to one of the links constituting the larger hemisphere of 
 
THE COLUMN OF CATHERIXE DE MEDICIS. 195 
 
 iron bars by wliich lie was surrounded. A means of escape at once 
 presented itself to his imagination. Swift as thought he tried the 
 durability of the cord. It was of strength suflicient to sustain his 
 weight ; and of more than sufficient extent to enable him to reach 
 the ground. He uttered an exclamation of joy ; but he suddenly 
 checked liimself. The plan was relinquished as soon as formed. 
 He could not abandon the Gelosa. 
 
 Ginevra divined his intentions. Collecting all her energies, she 
 threw herself at his feet, beseeching him to avail himself of 
 the opportunity that presented itself of safety by fliglit. 
 
 " And leave you here to fall into the hands of your pursuers — of 
 Gonzaga — never," replied Crichton. 
 
 " Heed me not — lieed me not — noble and dear signor," replied 
 the Gelosa. "I have ///?/ means of escape likewise — go — go — I 
 implore of you. What is my life to yours? By tlie Virgin!" 
 she continued, with passionate earnestness, " if you do not obey me, 
 1 Avill fling myself headlong from this pillar and free you from 
 restraint, and myself from persecution."" 
 
 So saying, she advanced to the brink of the column, as if 
 resolved upon putting her threat into instant execution. 
 
 '* Hold, hold, Ginevra," exclaimed Crichton, " we may both 
 avoid oiu' foes. Give me thy hand, rash girl." And ere she 
 could advance another footstep, the Scot detained her with a 
 powerful grasp. Ginevra sank unresistingly into his arms. 
 Crichton's next proceeding was to make iast the trap-door, 
 the bolt of which presented such feeble resistance to the Hercu 
 lean shoulders of Loupgarou. He then threw the cord over the 
 edge of tiie column, and advanced to the brink to see that it 
 had fallen to the ground. As he did so, he was perceived and 
 recognised by Ogilvy, who hailed him with a loud shout, but as 
 that doughty Scot was engaged hand to hand with a couple of 
 assailants, he was not in a condition to render his patron any effi- 
 cient assistance. Having ascertained that the cord had dropped in 
 the way he thought desirable, Crichton again assured himself 
 of the firmness of the knot, and placing his dagger between his- 
 teeth, to be ready for instant service on reaching the ground, 
 and twining his left arm securely round the person of the Gelosa, 
 whose supplications to be abandoned to her fate were unheeded, 
 he grasped the rope tightly with his right hand, and leaning over 
 the entablature of the column, pushed himself deliberately over its 
 ledge. 
 
 For a moment the rope vibrated with the shock ; and as she 
 found herself thus swinging to and fro in mid air, Ginevra could 
 scarcely repress a scream. Her brain reeled as she gazed dizzily 
 downwards, and perceived the space intervening between her 
 and the earth. Her head involuntarily sank over her shoulder, 
 and she closed her eyes. Had her safety depended on her own 
 powers of tenacity, she had certainly fallen. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 CRICllTON. 
 
 The rope, meanwhile, continued its oscillations. With one arm 
 only disengaged, and the other encumbered by his fair burden, it 
 was almost impossible for Criehton to steady it. The architrave 
 and frieze crowning the capital, projected nearly two feet be- 
 yond the body of the shaft. For some time he could neither 
 reach tlie sides of the pillar so as to steady his course by its fluted 
 channels, nor venture to trust himself to the guidance of the 
 shifting cord. His peril appeared imminent. The strain upon 
 the muscles was too great to be long endured. But Crichton's 
 energies were inexhaustible, and his gripe continued unrelaxing. 
 At length, after various ineffectual efforts he succeeded in twining 
 his legs securely round the rope, and was about to descend, when 
 an incident occurred that rendered his situation yet more 
 perilous. 
 
 Filled with astonishment at the daring attempt they witnessed, 
 as Criehton launched himself from the column, the combatants be- 
 neath — friend and foe, as if by mutual consent — suspended hosti- 
 lities. It was a feat of such hair-breadth risk, that all gave him up 
 for lost. But, when he had made good his hold, their admiration 
 knew no bounds. Blount loudly hurraed, and threw his cap into 
 the air. Even the adverse party uttered a murmur of applause. 
 Ogilvy rushed forward to seize and secure the rope — and all had 
 been well, but at the same moment he was grappled by one of his 
 antaironists, and in the stru^"-le that ensued, the cord was so 
 violently shaken that Criehton had need of all his vigour to main- 
 tain his position. The rope whirled round and round ; but con- 
 triving, amid the gyrations, to insert the point of his foot in the 
 fluting of the pillar, he once more regained his equilibrium. 
 
 " Villain," cried Ogilvy, as he threw his enemy to the earth, and 
 plunged his dirk within his bosom; " thou, at least, shall reap the 
 reward of thy treachery. Ah, what is this?" he cried, as from the 
 folds of a scarf, which had dropped from the man's grasp, a packet 
 of letters met his view. He was about to pick them up, when his 
 attention was diverted by a loud cry from Blount. 
 
 " Ha! have a care, noble Criehton!" shouted the Englishman, 
 " have a care, I say ! St. Dunstan and St. Thomas, and all other 
 good saints protect thee ! — Desist, craven hound, what wouldst thou 
 do ? The curse of St. Withold upon thee !" The latter part of 
 Blount's ejaculation was addressed to Loupgarou, whose huge 
 person might now be discovered leaning over the architrave of the 
 pillar, and Avho was preparing to hew the rope asunder with his 
 Bword. " Oh for a sling !" roared Blount, " to smite that accursed 
 Philistine betwixt the temples." 
 
 Directed by these outcries, and, at the same time, perceiving the 
 effect of a blow upon the rope, Criehton looked upwards. He 
 beheld the malignant and exulting aspect of Loupgarou, who, it is 
 needless to say, through the agency of Caravaja, had discovered 
 
TIIK COLUMN OF CATHEKINE DE MEDTCIS. 197 
 
 the mode of" flight adopted by the Scot, and instantly resolved 
 upon tlie only revenge in his power. It was evident from his 
 gestures and ferocious lauglitcr, that the giant had resolved to 
 exercise his utmost ingenuity in torturing his enemy. Before he 
 attempted to sever the cord, lie shook it with all his force, jerking 
 it vcliemently, first on the right liand, and then on the Icit ; but, 
 finding he could not succeed in dislcdging the tenacious Scot, he 
 had recourse to another expedient. Taking firmly hold of the 
 iron bar, by dint of great exertion he contrived to pull the cord up 
 several feet. Uttering a loud yell, he let it suddenly drop. Still 
 Crichton, thougli greatly shaken, maintained his hold. Loupgarou 
 tlien proceeded slowly to saw the cord with his sword. Crichton 
 gnzcd downwards. He "was still more than sixty feet from the 
 ground. 
 
 " Ho, ho !" bellowed Loupgarou, " not so fast, fair sir — (jui 
 vult "perirr. percai — ho, ho ! You shall reach the ground without 
 further efforts of your own, and somewliat more expeditiously — 
 stcrmtur e.vanimisqne tremens procumhit humi — ho, ho ! — " 
 
 '" That fate shall be thy own, huge ox," screamed the shrill voice 
 of Chicot in his rear; " ho, ho ! ' laughed the jester, as tlie giant, 
 whom he pushed forward with all his might, rolled lieavily over 
 the entablature ; " not so fast, not so fast, my Titan." 
 
 *' Quitn adelante no 7nira, atrds se queda,'' exclaimed Caravaja, 
 springing upon the jester with the intent of throwing liim after the 
 giant ; " thou shalt reverse the proverb ; look first and leap after.'" 
 The w^ords, however, were scarcely out of his mouth, when he 
 found himself seized by the Vicomte dc Joyeusc, who suddenly 
 appeared on the roof of" the column. 
 
 Loupgarou made an effort to grasp at the architi'ave of the pillar 
 as he was precipitated over it, and then at the rope, but he missed 
 both. His jrrcat weifrht accelerated his fill. He descended head 
 foremost. His skull came in contact with the sharp, projecting 
 edge of the plinth, whicli shattered it at once ; and his huge frame 
 lay without sense upon the pavement of the court just as Crichton 
 and his now senseless burthen alighted in safety upon the ground. 
 
 " By my bauble !" cried Chicot, as he hailed Crichton from the 
 summit of the column, " the great gymnastic feats of Gargantua 
 equal not your achievements, compere." 
 
 But Crichton was too much occupied to attend to the jester. 
 He liad now to defend himself against the assault of Gonzaga's 
 followers, whose object was to possess themselves of the Gelosa. 
 
 At this moment the call of a trumpet sounded from the summit 
 of the pillar, and the next instant some dozen men in arms, in the 
 livery of the Vicomte de Joyeuse, made their appearance at its 
 base. 
 
 " Down witli your swords, in the king's name," cried the ser- 
 geant of tlic guard. " Chevalier Crichton, in the name *»f his 
 most Catholic majesty, Henri HL, you are our prisoner." 
 
'98 CRicriToy. 
 
 *' Where is your leader ?" dein:iiuk'(l Crichton, sternly, " to him 
 alone will I yield myself." 
 
 " He is here, mou cker,'' cried Jo}'cuse, from the top of the 
 pillar, " and rejoices to find you in safety. I "will join you, and 
 render all needful explanations. Meantime, you must, perforce, 
 continue my prisoner. Your adversary, Prince Vincenzo, hath 
 yielded himself witliout demur." 
 
 " 'Tis well ;" replied Crichton, throwing down his ]Joignard. 
 
 It is needless to describe the rapturous congratulations of 
 Ogilvy and Blount. The former appeared so anxious to relieve 
 his patron from the burthen of the fair singer, that he at length 
 committed lier to his care. The disciple of Knox gazed at her 
 with admiration, and his bosom heaved with strange but inex- 
 pressible emotions as he held the lovely player-girl in his arms. 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Crichton, turning hastily to Blount, "thy 
 dog — hath he reached thee ?" 
 
 " He is here," replied Blount, patting Druid, " he has been 
 slightly hurt in this fi'ay, poor fellow, the ball of an arqucbuss hath 
 grazed his side — " 
 
 " There was a scarf twined around him — thou hast it?" demanded 
 Crichton. 
 
 " I saw nothing:," answered Blount, starinij in astonishment at 
 ihe question. 
 
 *' A scarf," ejaculated Ogilvy, " did it contain a packet ?" 
 
 " It did," rejoined Crichton. " Have you seen it?" 
 
 " 'Tis here," answered Ogilvy, springing forward, and once 
 more committing the Gelosa to his patron. " Ha ! here is the 
 sash," he cried, " and a knot of ribands — but the packet is 
 gone." 
 
 " Search !" said Crichton — " it may have escaped thy regards." 
 
 " It is nowhere to be found," replied Ogilvy, after a vain quest. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Crichton, in a tone of anguish, "all my 
 exej tions then are fruitless. The prize is lost as soon as obtained." 
 
iiJ9 
 
 I300K THE THIRD.— CHAPTER i. 
 
 II I C B I B I T U R. 
 
 Or, (list rantiigrucl, faisons iinjc transon de bonne chiere, et beuvons, je voufc 
 en prie, eufans— car il faict bean boire tout ce mois. 
 
 Kadelais. Gurgantua. Liv. II. Ch. xxx. 
 
 Ox tlio day succeeding the events previously related, and about 
 two hours before noon, the interior ot' the Falcon in the Rue Pe- 
 lican, presented a scene of much bustle and animation. The tables 
 •were covered with viands; the benches with guests. The former 
 consisting of every variety of refection, liquid and solid, proper to 
 a substantial Parisian breakfast of the sixteenth century ; from the 
 ■well-smoked ham of Bayonne, and savoury sausage of Bologna, to 
 the mild potage de levriei', and unctuous soupe de prime. The 
 latter exhibiting every shade of character, from the roystering 
 student (your scholars have always been great tavern hiuiters,) 
 and sottish clerk of the Basochc, to the buff-jerkined musqucteei', 
 and strapping sergeant of the Swiss guard. 
 
 The walls resounded Avith the mingled clatter of the trencher, 
 the flagon, and the dice-box — with the shouts of laughter, and 
 vociferations of the company, and with the rapid responses of the 
 servitors. The air recked with the fumes of tobacco, or, as it was 
 then called, herhe a la remc, pimento, and c:arlic. Pots of hydro- 
 mcl, " hippocras, and wine, served to allay the thirst which the 
 salt meats (compulsoires de heuvcttes^ according to Rabelais) very 
 naturally provoked, and many a deep draught was that morning 
 drained to the health of Dame Fredegonde, the presiding divinity 
 of the Falcon. 
 
 In saying that the wines of Dame Fredegonde were generally 
 approved, we merely repeated the opinion of every member of 
 the University of Paris, whose pockets were not utterly exhausted 
 of the necessary metal ferriigine, and in averring that her charms 
 were the universal theme of admiration, we reiterated the senti- 
 ments of every jolly lansquenet, or Gascon captain of D'Epernon's 
 • Quarantc Cinq,'' whose pike had at any time been deposited at 
 her threshold, or whose spurs jingled upon her hearth. 
 
 Attracted by the report of her comeliness, lialf the drinking 
 world of Paris Hocked to the Falcon. It was the haunt of ail lovers 
 of good cheer, and a buxom hostess. 
 
200 CRicnxoN. 
 
 Ah ! comme on entrait 
 Boire a son cabaret! 
 
 Some women there are who look old in their youth, and grow 
 young again as they advance in life : and of these was Dame Fre- 
 dcgonde. At eighteen she did not appear so young, or so inviting, 
 as at eight-and-thirty. Her person might be somewhat enlarged — 
 what ot' that ? jMany of her admirers thought her very embonpoint 
 an improvenipnt. Her sleek black tresses, gathered in a knot at the 
 back of her head — her smooth brow, whicli set care and time, and 
 their furrows, at defiance — her soft dimpled chin — her dark laugh- 
 ing eyes, and her teeth, white as a casket of pearls, left nothing to 
 be desired. You could hardly distinguish between the ring of your 
 silver real upon her board, and the laughter with which she received 
 it. To sum up her perfections in a word — she was a widow. As 
 Dame Fredegonde, notwithstanding her plumpness, had a very 
 small waist, and particularly neat ancles, she wore an extremely 
 tight boddice, and a, particularly short vertugardin ; and as she was 
 more than suspected of favouring the persecuted Huguenot party, 
 she endeavoured to remove the impression by wearing at her girdle 
 a long rosary of beads terminated by the white double cross of 
 the League. 
 
 Among her guests, upon the morning in question. Dame Frede- 
 gonde numbered the Sorbonist, the Bernardin, the disciples of 
 Harcourt and IMontaigu, and one or two more of the brawling and 
 disputatious fraternity, whose companionship we have for some 
 time abandoned. These students were regaling themselves upon a 
 Gargantuan gammon of ham, and a flask of malvoisie. At some 
 distance from this party, sat Blount, together with his faithful 
 attendant Druid, who with his enormous paws placed upon his 
 master's knees, and his nose familiarly thrust upon the board, re- 
 ceived no small portion of the liuge chine of beef destined for the 
 Englishman's repast. Next to Blount, appeared Ogilvy, and next 
 to the Scot, but as far removed from his propinquity as the limits 
 of the bench would permit, sat a youth whose features were con- 
 cealed from view by a broad hat, and who seemed, from his general 
 restlessness and impatience of manner, to be ill at ease in the society 
 in which accident, rather than his own choice, had thrown him. 
 
 Passing over the remainder of the company, we shall come at 
 once to a man-at-arms of a very prepossessing exterior, who had 
 established himself in close juxta-position with the buxomi hostess. 
 There was nothing very remarkable in the costume of this hero. 
 A stout buff jerkin, a coarse brown serge cloak, a pointed felt hat 
 with a single green feather, a long estoc, and buff boots with great 
 spurs, — this was the sum total of it. But there was an ease and 
 grace in his deportment, a fire in his eye, and a tone in his voice, 
 that seemed scarcely to belong to the mere common soldier, Avhose 
 garb he wore. His limbs were well proportioned — his figure tall 
 
niC BIBITUR. 201 
 
 and manly — liis complexion ruddy and sunburnt — his bearing easy 
 and unrestrained, and his look that of one more accustomed to 
 command than serve. He had immense moustaches — a pointed 
 beard — a large nose slightly hooked, and eyes of a very amoroua 
 expression, and taken altogether, he had the air of a person born 
 for conquest, whether of the fair sex or of kingdoms. His way 
 of making love was of that hearty straightforward kind which 
 carries all before it. Assured of success, he was, as a matter of 
 course, assuredly successful. Dame Fredegonde found him perfectly 
 irresistible. Her last lover, the strapping Swiss sergeant, who saw 
 himself thus suddenly supplanted, was half frantic with jealousy, 
 and twisting his fingers in the long black beard that descended to 
 his belt, appeared to meditate with his falchion the destruction of 
 his fortunate rival. 
 
 So far as splendour of accoutrements went, the Swiss had 
 decidedly the advantage. No magpie was ever finer. His casaque, 
 •which gave additional width to his shoulders, already broad enough, 
 was slashed with red and blue stripes, and girded with a broad red 
 band, tied in a knot and hanging down in points. One of his 
 stockings was red, the other white. A red garter crossed liis knee. 
 His barret cap had a projecting steel neb like that of a modern 
 chasseur, with a tuft of scarlet-dyed horsehair dangling behind. 
 Around his throat he wore a huge ruff, down wliicli his beard flowed 
 like a dark river. His sword resembled a Moorish scimitar, 
 while against the table by his side rested a halbert with a double- 
 axe head. But neither his parti-coloured raiments, his beard, nor 
 his gestures could draw from Dame Fredegonde a single smile of 
 encouragement. She was completely monopolised by tlic invin- 
 cible owner of the buff jerkin. 
 
 INIeanwhile, the scholars had finished their malvoisie, and were 
 calling loudly for a fresh supply. " Hola ! pulchra tabernaria 
 — queen of the cellar !'' shouted the Sorbonist, drumming on the 
 table to attract Dame Fredegonde's attention. "More wine liere 
 — Bordeau.x, I say — ex templo ! Leave off love-making for awhile 
 — tear yourself from the arms of that jolly gendarme, if you can, 
 like Helen from the embraces of Paris, et nobis pro?id fimde Falerna 
 manu. To the cellar, good dame — i^iue Cerere et Baccho — you 
 know the rest ; et amphora m capacem fer cito. Draw it neat and 
 stint not: respice perso)tain, pone pro duo ; bus non est in usu, as 
 the good Grandgousier saith. We are in a great hurry, and as 
 ^thirsty as sand-beds. Sang de Cabres! compaings, our hostess is 
 deaf The combat we came to see will be over before we have done 
 breakfast. Hola !— hola— ho !" 
 
 " And we shall look as foolish as we did yesterday," added the 
 Bernardin, thumping upon the board with allhis might, " Avhen we 
 found ourselves on the wrong side of the gate of the college of 
 Navarre, during Crichton's disputation. Body of Bacchus ! I faint 
 
202 CKicnxoN. 
 
 like a traveller in Arabia the Stony. Have compassion, sptciosis- 
 niinu Fredegonda — your cups are as far apart as the trieteiic orgies. 
 The tourney was proclaimed by the heralds to take place at noon, 
 and it is now nine o' the clock. By the love you bear the Bejaunes 
 of the University, use some despatch, or surrender to us the key 
 of the cellar." 
 
 "The scaffoldings are erected, and the barriers raised," cried 
 Harcourt. '^ I saw the carpenters and tapestry-makers at work; 
 the whole fa9ade of the Louvre looking towards the gardens blazes 
 with silk and scutcheons. Cavaliers and pages are thronging 
 thither in ail directions. 'Twill be a glorious sight ! I would not 
 miss it for my bachelor's gown." 
 
 " Nor I," rejoined Montaigu — " Mordieu ! Ave shall see how 
 Crichton comports himself to-day. It is one thing to war with 
 •words, and another with swords. He may iind the brave Prince of 
 Mantua a better match for him than our sophisters." 
 
 "He has only to deal with Gonzaga, as lie dealt with some 
 dozen of your classes yesterday," observed Ogilvy, in a scornful 
 tone, " to ensure himself as cheap a victory as he then ob- 
 tained." 
 
 " Ah ! — are yon there, mon brave Ecossois," cried the Sorbonist 
 — " I did not notice you before. But one has only to whisper the 
 name of tlieir patron saint, Cric]-iton,and up starts a Scot, when one 
 least expects such an apparition. However, I am glad to see you, 
 Sieur Ogilvy — we have an account to settle together." 
 
 " The sooner we arrange it then, the better,' cried Ogilvy, draw- 
 ing his dagger, and springing across the bench. " I thought you 
 and your rascal rout had met with your deserts at the scourge of 
 the hangman of the Petit Chatelet; but I care not if your chastise- 
 ment be reserved for my hands. Defend yourself, villain." 
 
 " Not till I have eaten my breakfast," replied the Sorbonist with 
 considerable phlegm — " As soon as I have iinished my meal, I 
 will assui-edly do you the honour of cutting your tliroat. Sede 
 inti'j'ini, (juceso. We are not now in the Rue de Feurre, or the 
 Pre-aux-Clercs, but in the jurisdiction of the Provost of Paris — and 
 under the noses of the watch. I have no intention of baulking 
 your humour, Messire Ecossois, but I have no fancy for exhibiting 
 myself in tlie Pilori des Halles to please you." 
 
 " Dastard," cried Ogilvy, " will not a blow move you ?" And 
 he was about to deal the Sorbonist a buffet, when Dame Frede- 
 gonde, who had witnessed this altercation with some alarm, sud- 
 denly flung herself between the disputants. 
 
 " Holy Saint Eloi !" she cried, in a loud tone — "a brawl at this 
 time of the day — and in my reputable house too. I can scarcely 
 credit my senses. Put up youv swords instantly, messires, or I will 
 eummon the watch, and give you all into its charge. Ah! you 
 think I only threaten — you shall see. Maitre Jacques," she added, 
 
HIC 313ITUE. !303 
 
 addressing the Swiss sergeant, *' this is your business. Let tran- 
 quillity be restored." 
 
 Maitre Jacques, somewhat gratified to be at length called into 
 notice by his inconstant mistress, stretched out his hand, and 
 without altering his position, dragged Ogilvy towards liim, and 
 instantly disarmed him with as much ease apparently as another 
 would have taken a stick from a child, or removed its sting from a 
 wasp. Blount, who was a great admirer of feats of strength, could 
 not refuse a murmur of approbation at the sergeant's singular 
 exhibition of vigour. 
 
 " You shall have your sword again when you liave recovered 
 your temper," said iSIaitre Jacques. *' By my beard," he added, 
 scowling at the scholars, " I will brain with my halbert the first of 
 you who draws his sword." 
 
 Ogilvy regarded the athletic Swiss for an instant, with eyes 
 glowing with indignation, and as if meditating a reprisal. But 
 a gentle voice from the bench recalled him to his seat ; and tran- 
 quillity was once more restored. 
 
 Tlie soldier, who hud watched the dispute and its issue with much 
 nonchalance, now addressed Dame rredegonde, as she returned to 
 his vicinity. 
 
 "What tourney is this, 772a mie T he said, "of which these 
 brave scholars have just now spoken? You know I am only 
 just arrived in Paris with the King of Navarre's envoy, and know 
 nothing of court news. Who is this Crichton ? What doth the 
 Prince of Mantua, if I have heard yon student aright, in Paris? 
 And above all, what are the grounds of quarrel between the com- 
 batants?" 
 
 " Do you expect me to answer all those inquiries in a breath, 
 niessire?" replied Dame Fredegonde, laughing. " You need not 
 assure me you are a stranger in Paris, since you question me about 
 the Seigneur Crichton. Who is he ? He is handsome enough to 
 be a prince. But I believe he is only a Scottish gentleman. He is, 
 however, the finest gentleman eyes were ever set v;pon. The Seig- 
 neurs Joj^cuse, D'Epernon, and Saint-Luc, and others of his 
 majesty's favourites are not to be compared with him. He is as 
 witty as he is handsome, and as wise as he is witty. Yesterday he 
 had a great disputation with the heads of the University, and they 
 have not had a word to say for themselves since. To-day he jousts 
 with the Prince of Mantua in the gardens of the Louvre at noon, 
 and I warrant me, he will come off victorious. In short, he has but 
 to speak and you are dumb-founded — to draw his sword, and his 
 enemy drops at his feet — to look at alady, and straightway she falls 
 into his arms." 
 
 " Of a verity, a most accomplished cavalier," said the soldier, with 
 a smile, " but you have not yet told me the occasion of his difference 
 with the young Prince of Mantua. What is their cause of quarrel^ 
 sweetheart ? Tell mo that ?" 
 
2M CRICHTON. 
 
 " No one can tell to a certainty,"" replied Dame Fredegonde, 
 mysteriously ; " but the challenge was given last night at the Louvre. 
 Some say it is about an Italian mistress — (here the youth near 
 Ogilvy was observed to start) — some that the Seigneur Crichton 
 has discovered a plot against the king's life, in which Cosmo Rug- 
 gieri, and a great lady — Avhom nobody dares to name — together with 
 this prince are concerned, and that in consequence the Prince of 
 IMantua, Vincenzo, who has been for some time at the court in 
 disguise, has defied him to mortal combat. Certes, there were 
 strange doings at the Hotel de Soissons last night, as the Chevaher 
 du Guet informed me when he made his rounds. But that's no 
 business of mine. They Ho say, also, that the Seigneur Crichton's 
 life was twice endangered — first at the banquet by the jealousy of 
 another great lady who is in love with him, and who poured a dose 
 of poison into his wine." 
 
 " What great lady do you mean, ma mie ? Surely not the 
 queen-mother !" 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! no," cried Fredegonde, with a scream of 
 laughter ; " the Seigneur Crichton is hardly likely to be in love 
 with he?:" 
 
 " Who then?" 
 
 " You are very inquisitive, messire. How can it concern you 
 to know in what way queens and other great dames revenge them- 
 selves on their lovers' infidelities?" 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris ! It may concern me more nearly than you 
 ima^^ine. You know I am from the court at Pau — from Henri of 
 Navarre. You do not mean his queen?" 
 
 " I do not mean the Queen Louise, and you may, therefore, form 
 a shrewd guess whom I du mean," replied Dame Fredegonde, sig- 
 nificantly. " There you will have a pretty piece of scandal to take 
 back to your monarch. And, as 1 live, he could not look more 
 blank than you do at the intelligence — ha — ha — ha !" 
 
 " Peste !" exclaimed the soldier, biting his lip. " And it is for 
 this adventurer that Marguerite refuses to leave her brother's court, 
 and to rejoin her husband." 
 
 "To be sure! — she would find your psalm-singing Bearnais 
 rather dull after the gay galliard Crichton. But you look serious, 
 messire?" 
 
 " Your sex is enough to make one so,^' replied the soldier* 
 
 forcing a laugh, 
 
 " Femmes sont secretes 
 En amour discretes 
 Doulces mygnonnettes 
 Et tant bien parlantes, 
 Mai sont protitables, 
 Et fort variables 
 Y sont tous les diables. 
 
 Our good Henri will care no more about the matter than I do. 
 
HIC BIBITUR. 205 
 
 And hark ! — those scholars are still clamorous for \nno. Allow 
 me to attend you to the cellar? You will want some help to cany 
 that mighty Hagon." 
 
 To return to Ogilvy and his companions. Blount continued 
 sedulous in his attentions to the chine ; but the Scot's appetite 
 was gone. He swallowed a deep draught of wine, and began 
 to hack tlie table witli a knife. To a casual remark, addressed 
 to him by the Englishiriaii, he returned a sullen response. It was 
 evident he was deeply ollended. But Blount did not take hia 
 petulance in umbrage, but continued his repast in silence, ever and 
 anon bestowing a morsel of fat upon his dog. The Gelosa now 
 drew nearer to the wrathful Scot, and laid her hand gently upon 
 his arm. Ogilvy turned his inflamed cheek towards her, — 
 
 " What would you?" he asked. 
 
 '• I would quit this place," said Ginevra, *' a presentiment of 
 misfortune, which I cannot shake offj oppresses me. The clamour 
 distracts me, and I am feari'ul those reckless scholars may recognise 
 me. Besides," she added, with somewhat of reproach in her ac- 
 cent, "you but ill fulfil your patron's injunctions — you were to 
 protect me — not to endanger my safety by provoking hostili- 
 ties." 
 
 " Pardon my rashness, fair maiden,' replied Ogilvy, with some 
 confusion; " I was wrong in giving way to this foolish display of 
 passion ; but where the honour of Crichton is concerned, my feelings 
 are irrepressible.'' 
 
 " I honour you for your devotion," returned the Gelosa ; " and 
 let not any thought of risk to me deter you from its manifestation. 
 Conduct me hence, and return, if you see fitting, to avenge yourself 
 upon yon insolent scholar." 
 
 "Impossible!" replied Ogilvy, "the escort from the Vicomte 
 de Joyeuse which is to conduct you beyond the gates of Paris, 
 and place you on the route to the frontiers of Italy, is not yet 
 arrived. We must await its coming. It was the Chevalier 
 Crichton's desire that we should do so. Fear nothing, fair maiden. 
 I will defend you with the last drop of my blood ; nor shall 
 you again have to reproach my intemperate zeal in ray patron's 
 behalf" 
 
 " My heart misgives me," replied Ginevra, " but since it was 
 his wish, I will remain here. I feel as if I were not yet out of 
 the powerof thatterrible Gonzaga. And then," she added, timidly, 
 and blushing deeply as she spoke, " shall I confess to you, siguor, 
 that I would willingly hazard my safety by remaining in Paris — 
 nay, within the precincts of the Louvre, to witness this tourney. 
 If Vincenzo fall, I have nothing to fear." 
 
 " But from Ruggieri — from Catherine you may still apprehend 
 peril," returned Ogilvy, " besides know you not that the king has 
 commanded a combat a plaisaiice and not a outratice 9 The prince 
 
206 CRICHTOX. 
 
 may be worsted, therefore — but not skin. Your danger -will not 
 be diminished by the result of this confliot." 
 
 A burst of noisy merriment from the scholars here broke upon 
 them, and the following irreverent Bacchanalian lay was chanted at 
 the top of his voice by the Sorbonist; the other students join- 
 ing in chorus. 
 
 "Ftni'te ^Qotcmus.* 
 I. 
 
 Veni/e,jo\\al sons of Hesper, 
 Who from matin unto vesper, 
 
 Roam abroad sul) ])omino; 
 Benedictine, Carmelite, 
 Quaff we many a flask to-night 
 
 Salutari nostra 
 If the wine be, as I think, 
 Fit for reverend lips to drink 
 
 Jubi/emnx ei. 
 Ecce bonum vinuiii, venitc potemvs ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Hodie, when cups are full, 
 
 Not a thought or care should dull 
 
 Cordii veslra — 
 Eat your till — the goblet quaff. 
 Sufficient is the wine thereof 
 
 Secundum diem : — 
 What care I — if huge in size 
 My paunch should wax ? — it testifies 
 
 Oi^erd mea. 
 Venite potemiis ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Quadraginla years and more 
 
 Tve seen ; and jolly souls some score 
 
 Fxixiviusj'iii ; 
 And life throughout, have ever thought. 
 That they, who tipple ale that's naught. 
 
 Errant corde : 
 Yea, in my choler waxing hot, 
 I sware sour beer should enter not 
 
 In icquiem mcam. 
 Ecce bonum vinum, venite potanus! 
 
 The re-appearance of Dame Fredegonde, and the soldier bearing 
 a capacious stoup of claret, had given rise to this effusion of the 
 Sorbonist ; and as each goblet was now filled to the brim, after 
 having been previously emptied, general hilarity prevailed among 
 the tWrsty scions of the university. The Bernardin insisted upon 
 the soldier taking a seat beside him, and the Sorbonist deemed it 
 
 * Adapted from an old French Imatatoyre Bachiqtie. 
 
HIC BIBITUK. 207 
 
 incumbent upon Kim to present a flai^on of the ruby fluid to 
 Maitre Jacques, Avho drained it in a breath. 
 
 " Lans tringue !" cried the scholar of Harcourt, slapping the 
 Boldier on the shoulder, " I drink to thee. Thou hast given us 
 good measure and good wine, i'faitli. May our buxom hostess 
 never want such a ccllarist — nor ourselves such a drawer — ha- 
 
 ha! 
 
 Remplis ton verre vnide 
 Vuide ton vcne plein." 
 
 " I Avill not refuse thy pledge, comrade," rcjDlicd the soldier, 
 "though my brain will not brook many such strong assaults so 
 early in the morning. Here is to thy election to the dignity of 
 chaplain at the next Fete des Fous." 
 
 "Jest not with me, compaing, but drink,'* retorted Harcourt, 
 angrily, " it were thy safer course. Ah ! thou refusest. I discern 
 something of the Huguenot about thee. I heard thee tell our 
 hostess just now thou wert from the head-quarters of the lU'arnais. 
 One might guess as much from thy neglect of the flask, and devo- 
 tion to the petticoats — dignum patella operculum. Ah ! if it wore 
 ever to occur that thy master should be King of France, a pretty 
 time we should have of it 1 The good old days of Francois I. 
 would be revived with a vengeance. Not a husband in Paris could 
 rest in his bed. The saints defend us from such a consummation. 
 Well, I bear him no ill-will — here's to Alcandre."' 
 
 " Maranatha 1" exclaimed the Sorbonist, " that must not pass. 
 "We will be Catholic even in our cups. Thy pledoe is heretical 
 and schismatic. Rather let us drink confusion to the Bearnais, the 
 Reform, and the Ciiurch of Geneva; and success to the League, the 
 true Church, and the brave Balafre !" 
 
 " To the Holy Union!" cried the Bernardin. 
 
 " To the Pope !" shouted INIontaigu. 
 
 " T^o Beelzebub 1" roared Harcourt. " I will hurl my wine-cup 
 in his face who refuses my pledge — Henri of Navarre, and the 
 Huguenot cause 1" 
 
 " By the mass, I scent heresy in thy pledge, and refuse it," 
 returned the Sorbonist. The words were scarcely out of his mouth 
 when he received the contents of the scholar of Harcourt's flagon 
 in his face. 
 
 In an instant all was confusion. Swords were drawn and crossed, 
 and the table nearly upset in the confusion that ensued ; but, by 
 the united efiorts of Blount, who had now formed one of the 
 party, and the Swiss sergeant, the combatants were separated, and 
 tranquillity for the second time restored. The cause of the dis- 
 turbance, meantime, our nonchalant soldier, so far from taking any 
 share in the struggle, leaned back in his chair, and indulged in an 
 immoderate lit of laughter. 
 
 " How now, thou insensible varletl" cried Harcourt, whose 
 
208 CRICHTON. 
 
 furious countenance and ruffled demeanour presented a singular 
 contrast to his companion's apathy ; " hast thou never a sword to 
 draw in thy sovereign's behalf, or grace enough to thank him who 
 is ready to fight thy battles for thee? By my soul, I was wrong. 
 Brother of the Sorbonne, thy hand. Thou wert in the right to 
 object to ray rascal pledge. Ventre-saint-Quintin! from a Hugue- 
 not one gets neither aid nor acknowledgment." 
 
 " The quarrel was of thine own seeking, comrade," returned the 
 soldier, with increased merriment; " I pressed thee not into my 
 service — the good cause of the Reformed Faith needs no such 
 blustering advocate as thou ; and the Bearnais will not laugh a 
 whit the less loudly because one sot drinks to his success, and 
 another to his confusion." 
 
 " Fairly spoken," cried Montaigu, "for a Huguenot our re- 
 formado hath the air of an honest fellow. A truce to raillery, 
 comrades ! Favete Unguis. These brawls interfere with drinking. 
 Let us have a song to restore us to harmony. Chantuns, beuvuiis 
 ung motet, as glorious old Rabelais liath it." 
 
 " Entonnons'^ cried the others, laughing. 
 
 " What shall it be?" asked the soldier. 
 
 " Le chanson de la Peronelle, 
 La vie de Monsieur Saint Francoys, 
 La Confiteor des Angloys, 
 
 or tne merry burden of some farce, sotie, or joyous discourse?" 
 
 "Za Rtformeresse, for instance,"' retorted Montaigu, vociferating 
 At the top of his voice — 
 
 " To Paris, that good city, 
 
 Navarre's young king is come, 
 And flock forth the damsels pretty. 
 
 At the heating of his drum. 
 But the fairest 'mid the crowd, sirs, 
 
 The loveliest of the lot, 
 Is a nymph, who cries aloud, sirs, 
 To the church, sire, you go not, 
 Huguenot ! 
 
 *' E'en give us what thou wilt, my puissant Hector : so thy 
 strains savour not of the nasal melodies of Theodore Beza, or the 
 canticles of Clement j\Iarot, they will be right welcome." 
 
 " Lend me your voices in full cliorus, then," replied the soldier, 
 *' and respond to my litany." And, in a deep tone, he sang as 
 follows : — 
 
 From all men, who, counsel scorning, 
 To the ui»»-rn hie at morning 
 With Latin base their talk adorning, 
 Libera nos Domine. 
 
 From all those, who night and day, 
 Cards and raiment cast away, 
 At cards and dice and other play, 
 lAbera nos Domine. 
 
HIC BIBITUR. 209 
 
 ** Satis supergue" shouted Montaigu, " thy rogation toucheth 
 me too nearly, as testifieth tlie tattered state of my exponib/esy to 
 be altogether satisfactory — Hei mild I 
 
 Alea, vina, Vernis, tribus his sum /actus egenus. 
 
 Sed parum est. I have still a few liards left, and when my pouch 
 is utterly evacuate, I can turn Huguenot or hang myself — it mat- 
 ters little which. In the meantime ;" and here the reckless youth 
 once more broke into song : — 
 
 ^ong of tl)c ^cljolar.* 
 I. 
 
 A jolly life enough I lead — that is semper quam possums 
 When mine host inviteth me, I answer ecce nssum .' 
 Women, wine, and wai-sailry lubcns libentcr colo. 
 And after meals to pass the time chariis ludisquc volot 
 Unluckily these games are not omnino sine dolo. 
 
 II. 
 
 Wine to tipple I conceive quod fui gcneiahut. 
 Treasure to amass, indeed, I doubt if I was nalus, 
 Never yet with coin enough was I /fcup/clalics. 
 Or, with a superfluity, vehemenler e.rcilalus — 
 Dci>2^ice divilias si vis animo esse beatus. 
 
 III. 
 
 ^^ hither are mj' raiments fled? amice mi! — st quccritf 
 Quaffed they were in flowing cups in tempore Uieu!) verist 
 Thus am I obliged to roam subliorridus per vico.-, 
 Herding amidst truand rogues et aliof iniquos : 
 Cumfuerisfelix midtos numcrabi< amicox .' 
 
 " Bellissime !" cried the soldier, " thy case is a hard one, I must 
 needs admit, comrade. But thou art a likely lad, and I promise 
 thee, if thou wilt accompany me to the King of Navarre's camp, 
 whither I set out this morning, and wilt forswear thy roystering 
 habits, and embrace the true doctrine, I will put thee in a way of 
 lining thy pouch with weightier pieces than any it now holds, and 
 of replacing thy threadbare apparel with the hacquetoon and 
 habergeon of the Bourbon." 
 
 " Weighty blows are said to abound more than weighty pieces in 
 thy king's psalm-singing camp," returned INIontaigu, " and I must 
 be bribed by present payment if I vend my soul to Messire Sa- 
 thanas. But come," he added, filling his goblet; '* let us drink 
 between our songs, and sing between our draughts, ^dipol ! my 
 
 • An adaptation of a few verses of a Macaronic poem of little merit, entitled 
 Des fames, des dez, et de fa taveme, appended to the last edition of the Fabliavjc et 
 Conies des Potles Frangois. 
 
 F 
 
210 CRICIITON. 
 
 jolly missioner ad partes irifidellum, thou hast the throat of a 
 nightingale, and warblest a song divinely; and as thou art chary 
 of the flask, wilt have the more leisure to divert us with another 
 stave." 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris," muttered the soldier, smiling to himself ; 
 *' could my faithful Rosni have foreseen, that, during liis absence, . 
 I should play the lover to a buxom aubergiste, the buffoon to a ' 
 pack of losel scholars, and the rebel to myself, I had not escaped 
 a lecture as long as ever John Calvin pronounced from his pulpit 
 at Geneva. No matter: the monotony of life must be relieved; 
 and he is a wise man who makes the most of the passing mo- 
 ment." 
 
 With this philosophical reflection, he yielded to the scholar's 
 importunities. It has been observed before, that his countenance 
 was remarkable for its frankness and cordiality. It had, besides, 
 an indescribable expression of comic humour, which broadened 
 and brightened as he proceeded with his vocal performance, into 
 a glow of such irresistible drollery, that his auditors were almost 
 convulsed with laughter; and, as real mirth is always contagious, 
 the infection was speedily communicated to every guest of the 
 Falcon, the pensive and dolorous Ogilvy not excepted. 
 
 '!E\)z ©^toiu'cle of ffiargantua: 
 
 SHOWING HOW HE TOOK AWAY THE GREAT BELLS OF NOTKE-DAMB. 
 
 I. 
 
 Grandgousier was a toper boon, as Rabelais will tell ye, 
 Who, once upon a time, got drunk witli his old wife Gargamelly : 
 Right royally the bout began (no queen was more punctilious 
 Than Gargamelle) on chitterlings, botargos, godebillios!* 
 
 I^ing, ©arimari, carimara! golgnoln, golenolol 
 
 II 
 They licked their lips, they cut their quips — a flask then each selected ; 
 And with good Greek, as satin sleek, their gullets they humected. 
 Rang stave and jest, the flask they pressed — but ere away the wine went. 
 Occurred most unexpectedly Queen Gargamelle's confinement! 
 Sing, ©arimari, carimara ! gulunoln, golenolo! 
 
 III. 
 
 No sooner was Gargantua born, than from his infant throttle, ' 
 
 Arose a most melodious cry to his nurse to bring the bottle! 
 Whereat Grandgousier much rejoiced — as it seemed, unto his thinking 
 A certain sign of a humour fine for most immoderate drinking! 
 Sing, ©arimari, carimara ! golpnoln, golBnoIo ! 
 
 • Gaudebiilaux sont grasses trippes de coiraux. Coiraux sont boeufz engresses 
 ii la Cliche, et pr^s guimaulx. Pres guimaulx sont qui portent herbe deux foys 
 Tan. 
 
HIC BIBITUR. 211 
 
 IV. 
 
 Gargantua shot up, like a tower some city looking over! 
 His full-moon visage in the clouds, leagues off, ye might discover! 
 His gracious person he arrayed — 1 do not mean to laugh at ye — 
 With a suit of clothes, and great trunk hose, of a thousand ells of tafFety. 
 ^ing, ©nrimnri, rarimnra ! golenolj), golunolo ! 
 
 Around his waist Gargantua braced a belt of silk bespangled. 
 And from his hat, as a platter flat, a long blue feather dangled ; 
 And down his hip, like the mast of ship, a rapier huge descended, 
 Willi a dagger keen, stuck his sash between, all for ornament intended. 
 Sing, ©tirtmnrt, cartmnrm ! golynoln, golnnolo ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 So learned did Gargantua grow, that he talked like one whose turn is 
 For logic, with a sophister, bight Tubal Holofernes. 
 In Latin too be lessons took from a tutor old and seedy, 
 WHio taught the " Quid Est,'' and tiie " Par.s,"—one Jobclin de Bridel 
 sing> ©arimart, carimara ! golijnolii, golnnolo ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 A monstrous mare Gargantua rode — a black Numidian courser — 
 A beast so droll, of fiily or foal, was never seen before, sir! 
 (ireat elephants looked small as ants, by her side — her hoofs were cloven I 
 Her tail was like the spire at Langes — her mane like goat-beards woven ! 
 sing, ©arimari, carimara ! gobnolij, golnnolo ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Upon this mare Gargantua rode until he came to Paris, 
 Wliicli, from Utopia's capital, as we all know, rather far is — 
 The thundering bells of Notre-Dame, he took from out the steeple. 
 And he hung them round bis great mare's neck in the sight of all the people! 
 Sing, ©arimarf, carimara ! golenoln, golnnolo ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now, what Gargantua did beside, I shall pass by without notice. 
 As well as the absurd harangue of that wiseacre Janotus ; 
 But the legend tells that the thundering bells Bragmardo brought away, sir. 
 And that in the towers of Notre-Danie they are swinging to this day, sir! 
 Sing, CCarimara, carimari f golpnolu, golnnulo ! 
 
 X. 
 
 Now the great deeds of Gargantua, — how his father's foes he followed — 
 How pilgrims six, with their staves and scrips, in a lettuce leaf he swallowed— 
 How begot blind drunk with a worthy monk. Friar Johnny of the Funnels,— 
 And made huge cheer, till the wine and beer flew about his camp in runnels — 
 Sing, CCarimari, carimara I golnnolp, golnnolo 1 
 
 r2 
 
212 CBICHTON. 
 
 XL 
 
 How he took to wife, to cheer his life, fat Badebec the moper ; 
 And by her begat a lusty brat, Pantagriiel the toper! 
 And did other things, as tlie story sings, too long to find a place here; 
 Are they not writ, with matcliless wit, by Alcofribas Nasier?* 
 Sing, CTarimari, tarimafa ! gobnoly, golnnolo ! 
 
 As the soldier broup:ht his song to a close, amid the thunder- 
 ing applause and inextinguishable laughter of the scholars, his own 
 exhilaration was considerably damped by the sudden appearance of 
 two new comers, who had entered the cabaret, tmobserved, diirinq; his 
 performance; and with looks sufficiently expressive of their disap- 
 probation of his conduct, held themselves aloof until the termina- 
 tion of his strains, when they slowly approached the table. 
 
 The foremost of these personages was a man of middle age, and 
 severe aspect, fully equipped in the accoutrements of a military 
 leader of the period; but his breast-plate, though of the brightest Mi- 
 lan steel, was wholly destitute of ornament, and resembled rather, in 
 its heavy and cumbrous form an antique cuirass, of the age of Bayard 
 and Gaston de Foix, than the lackered and embossed armour worn 
 by the knighthood of the court of France. A tall plume nodded 
 upon his morion, and a long two-handed sword, called in the language 
 of the tilt-yard a gagne-pnin, was girded to his thigh. The hand, 
 able to wield such a blade with ease, could not, it was evident, be 
 deficient in energy. From liis right hip hung the long and 
 trenchant dagger, termed, from its use in combat, a mhcricorde. 
 His companion Avas habited in the black Geneva cloak and band, 
 constituting the attire of a preacher of the Reformed Faith. He 
 was a venerable man, with silver hair streaming upon his shoulders 
 from beneath his black silk calotte. His figure was bent by age 
 and infirmities, and his steps needed the support of a staff ; but the 
 fire which yet blazed in his deep-seated gray eye, showed that the 
 ardour and enthusiasm of his youthful spirit was still unextin- 
 guished. 
 
 " Diable !" mentally exclaimed the soldier, pushing aside his seat 
 and rising to greet the strangers, " Rosni here — and my old pre- 
 ceptor Doctor Fiorent Chretien. Parbleu ! their arrival at this 
 juncture is unlucky. But I must put the best face I can upon the 
 matter." And, as these thoughts passed rapidly through his mind, 
 he reverently saluted the minister, and exchanging a significant 
 look with the knight, the party adjourned to a more retired part of 
 the cabaret. 
 
 " I did not expect to find your majesty thus occupied," observed 
 Rosni, in a tone of reproach, as soon as they were out of hearing oi 
 the company. " IMethinks the wise and valiant Henri of Navarre 
 might have more profitably as well as worthily employed his 
 
 • The anagram of rran9ois Rabelais, 
 
HIC BIBITUR. 213 
 
 leisure, than by adiniuisterlng to the amusements, and sharing in 
 the pastimes of these unHcensed and idolatrous brawlers." 
 
 " Tush, Rosni," replied Henri of Bourbon, " I am 7iot a mo« 
 narch with these revellers; and were I to vouch any explanation 
 to thee, Avith whom I am a king, I could offer such reasons for my 
 conduct as Avould convince thee, tliat what I have done has been 
 without impeachment of my ' valour and wisdom,' and was merely 
 undertaken to sustain my character as a soldier.*' 
 
 " Your character as a soldier would have been better sustained 
 by repressing licence than abetting it, sire," returned Rosni, 
 bluntl}'. " Had 1 been in your majesty's place, and these riotous 
 Edomitcs had pressed me to make music for them, I would have 
 treated them to a psalm, such as our pious Calvin hath himself 
 appointed for the recreation of the faithful, or to one of those 
 mournful ballads so displeasing to the enemies of our religion, 
 wherein their own sanguinary atrocities are sternly set forth, and 
 the suiicrings of our martyrs painfully recorded." 
 
 " And have been laughed at for thy pains," said Henri. " Trust 
 me, my expedient was the wiser one." 
 
 At this moment the voice of the scholars again rose loud in song; 
 and the following chorus reached the ears of the King of JN'avarre 
 and his companions: — 
 
 A merry companj' are we 
 Who spend our lives in revelry, 
 Self-nick-named Evfans-sans tuuci ! 
 
 Cue, cioc, ciic, croc, la, la ! 
 
 " Ohe ! soldier of tlie true flxith," shouted Montaigu, " anotlier 
 song before we start for the tourney! Heed not thy captain's 
 reprimand. We will bear thee harmless." 
 
 " Thou hearest," said Henri, smiling, " those enfaiis-suns-souci, 
 as they not inaptly term themselves, are clamorous for my return. 
 Ventre-saint-gris ! Rosni, I am half disposed to send thee to them 
 as my substitute. I would gladly see what effect one of thy doleful 
 ditties would have upon their high-llown spirits. Wilt take my 
 seat at yon table .'" 
 
 " I Avill obey your niajesty's behests," replied Rosni, gravely^ 
 ** but 1 wash my hands of the consequences." 
 
 "Go then," replied Henri, laughing, '*thou descrvest some 
 punishment for thy imprudence. What, in the devil's name, in- 
 duced thee to bring old Chretien to this ' meeting of the mockers,' 
 and ' seat of the scornful,' as he would call it? Thy former ex- 
 perience might have led thee to expect some such untoward acci- 
 dent as the present ; and it should be I'ather thy business to draw a 
 veil over thy sovereign's foibles than to betray them." 
 
 " I shall observe more caution in future," returned Rosni, in a 
 tone of irony, " but after his own involuntary promise of amend- 
 ment, it ill became me to doubt my sovereign's maintenance of 
 
214 CRICHTON. 
 
 his word. Doctor Florent Chretien, whom I chanced upon at 
 the Protestant consistory in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, this 
 morning, hath a matter of importance to communicate to your 
 majesty's private ear, and to that end I ventured to brino- him 
 hither." 
 
 *' Thou hast done well, Rosni," replied the king, " nevertheless, 
 I cannot pretermit the punishment I have imposed on thee. Hark ! 
 my comrades call thee — go and join them." 
 
 Again the chorus of the scholars arose above the general clamour; 
 and the Sorbonist was heard vociferating the following verses:— 
 
 ^ong of tjbc ^orbonist. 
 
 Death to the Huguenot ! fagot and flame! 
 Death to the Huguenot! torture and shame! 
 
 Death! Death! 
 
 Heretics' lips sue for mercy in vain, 
 
 Drown their loud cries in the waters of Sei'e! 
 
 Drown ! Drowa ! 
 
 Hew down, consume them with fire and with sword I 
 A good work ye do in the sight of the Lord ! 
 
 Kill! Kill! 
 
 Hurl down their temples ! their ministers slay! 
 Let them bleed as they bled on Barthelemy's day ! 
 
 Slay ! Slay ! 
 
 A roar of insolent laughter followed this effusion. Henri of 
 Navarre bit his lips. 
 
 " Go," he said, frowning, " leave me with Chretien." 
 
 " By the holy evangel ! I will make these accursed mass-mongers 
 such sport as Sampson showed the Philistines," returned Rosni. 
 " But before I quit your presence, sire, I must acquaint you that 
 your escort is in readiness at the Porte Montmartre, and that two 
 of my followers with your steed await your coming forth at the 
 door of this cabaret." 
 
 " Let them wait," answered the king, sharply, '* I shall not set 
 out upon my journey till the evening." 
 
 " How, sire?'* asked Rosni. 
 
 " It is my intention to attend the jousts held this morning at 
 the Louvre." 
 
 " But your majesty — " 
 
 " Is resolved to have my own way — so thou may est spare me 
 further remonstrances on that head, Rosni. Not only will I witness 
 this tourney, but break a lance at it myself in honour of the queen 
 my spouse ; though I freely confess she deserves no sucli at- 
 
niC BIBITUR. 215 
 
 tention at my hands, after her refusal to join me where she 
 deems I now am, at my court at Pau. But let that pass. There 
 is a Scottish cavalier, who hath boasted, as it seems to me, some- 
 what indiscreetly, of Marguerite''s favours towards him, whether 
 truly or not signifies little, as I hold sccresy to be the first duty of 
 a gallant. I have a fancy for lowering this prattling mignon's 
 crest, the rather that he is reputed an expert tiltcr, and as such not 
 unworthy of my lance. And it may chance if IMargucrito sees her 
 favourite laid low, she may change her mind as to returning with 
 me. At all events I shall attend this tourney in the quality of a 
 knight-adventurer. Thou shalt ride forth with me anon, and pro- 
 cure me suitable equipments. My own steed will bear me bravely 
 through the day." 
 
 " Your majesty shall commit no such folly," replied Rosni, 
 bluntly. 
 
 "Baron de Rosni," exclaimed Henri, haughtily, " v/e have 
 honoured thee thus far with our friendship — but there are limits to 
 our good-nature which even you shall not exceed." 
 
 "Pardon my bluntncss, sire," returned Rosni, "but at t\^" 
 hazard of forfeiting your favour I would step between you and the 
 peril to which you expose yoiu'self thus rashly. When your faith- 
 ful counsellors reluctantly consented to your coming hither on this 
 fruhless embassy to a queen who loves you not, but who partakes 
 of the perfidious and inconstant nature of her family — when, I 
 say, they consented to your accompanying your own messengers, 
 in disguise, my life was pledged for your safe return. Tliat life is 
 nothing. But upon your security, sire, hangs the fate of a kin^-- 
 dom, and the prosperity of a pure and holy laith of which you are 
 the defender and champion. Bethink you of the cause in which 
 you have embarked — of your zealous followers — of the whole Pro- 
 testant world, whose eyes arc fixed upon you — bethink you also of 
 the risk you run — of the inevitable consequences attendant upon a 
 discovery of your presence — of your long captivity in the walls of 
 the Louvre from which you have so recently escaped. Think of 
 all this, and blame (if you can?) the zeal which prompts me to speak 
 thus boldly." 
 
 "Leave me, sir," replied Henri, " I would speak with my old 
 preceptor. You shall know my determination anon." 
 
 Rosni bowed, and took the place assigned to him by the monarch 
 at the table of the revellers. His arrival was greeted with loud 
 laughter, and many muttered allusions from the reckless crew to his 
 Huguenot principles. 
 
 "Hark yc, messires," said Rosni, "you have prevailed upon 
 one of my troop to sing for you, and in return have favoured us 
 with one of those ferocious melodies which your brethren howled 
 to the thundering tocsin of the bloody day of Saint-Barthclemi. 
 Ye shall now have my response. But first I charge ye let your 
 
216 CRICHTON. 
 
 g()blets be filled to the brim, and drink the pledge I shall propose 
 IQ you — ' The downfall of Antichrist, the externrination of the 
 League, and the universal establisliment of the True Faith.' Ha ' 
 you hesitat-e. By the evangel ! messires, I will thrust my poignard 
 into his throat who refuses my pledge." So saying he drew 
 bis dagger and glanced fiercely round the group. 
 
 A stern silence succeeded this speech. The mirth of the scholars 
 was suddenly checked. Each one glanced at his neighbour, as if 
 he expected he would resent the insult. But no one dared to do so 
 openly. 
 
 " 1 am with you, Sir Knight," exclaimed Blount. " I will see 
 that all obey you." 
 
 " The pledge V said Rosni, seizing the scholar of Harcourt by 
 the throat, and forcing him to pronounce the hateful words, and 
 afterwards to w^ash them down Avith a deep draught of wine. 
 
 " By Saint Thomas, thou escapest not," cried Blount, grapphng 
 with the Sorbonist. 
 
 " Not one shall escape me," said Rosni — " he shall drink it, or 
 die the death." 
 
 Accordino;ly, seeing resistance was in vain against armed force 
 like that of the knight, the scholars sullenly complied. 
 
 " I have not yet done with you, messires," said Rosni, in a tone 
 of mockery — " I will not insult the rehgion I profess, by allowing 
 blasphemers, like yourselves, to take part in its holy psalms; but 
 as you have rung in my ears the death-knell of our slaughtered 
 saints, ye shall hstento the judgment called down from on high for 
 that offence upon the head of the late treacherous and bloodthirsty 
 sovereign, Charles IX. Stir not, neither olfer any interruption, as 
 ye would avoid a sudden and speedy doom." 
 
 " Lend me your dagger. Sir Knight," said Ogilvy, unable to 
 control his choler, and springing towards the table; "and I will 
 compel as attentive audience to your strains as ever was accorded 
 to the sermons of our pious Knox." 
 
 " And as wilhng," said the Benardin, with a sneer. 
 
 " Take that in earnest of the chastisement I will inflict upon him 
 who shall disobey the knight's commands," said Ogilvy, bestowing 
 a sounding buffet upon the scholar's cheek, adding fiercely, as he 
 received the mistricorde fron) Rosni, "thefirstof you who speaketh 
 a word of offence breathes his last." 
 
 Amid the glances of defiance and suppressed rage cast upon 
 him by the scholars, the knight, in a deep stern tone, sang the 
 following ballad : — 
 
HIC UTBITUB. 217 
 
 CTftarlcs H. at ittontfaucon. 
 I. 
 
 "To liorse — to liorse!" thus spake King Charles, " to horse, my lords, with me 
 Unto INIontfaucon will we ride — a sigiit you there shall see." 
 " Montlaiicon, sire!" said his esquire — " wliat sight, mv liege, how mean ye?" 
 " The carcase stark of the traitor dark, and heretic Cohgni." 
 
 II. 
 
 The trumpets bray, their charters neigh a loud and glad reveifle — 
 And plaudits ring, as the haughty king from tlie Louvre issues gaily 
 On his right hand rides his motlicr, with her dames — a gorgeous train — 
 On his left careers his brother, witli tlie proud Duke of Lorraine. 
 
 III. 
 
 Behind is seen his youthfui queen — tiie meek Elizabeth* — 
 With her damsels bright, whose talk is licht of tlie sad, sad show of death ;— 
 Ah, lively ones ! — ah, gentle ones ! from the scoffer's judgment screen ye !— 
 Mock not the dust of the martyr'd just, for of such was good Coligni. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Bv foot »ip-hung, to flesh-hook strung, is now revealed to all, 
 Mocldering and shrunk, the headless trunk of the good old admiral : 
 fiash-visaged Guise the sight doth please — fierce lord, was naught between ye? 
 In felon blow of base Poltrotf no share had brave Coligni. 
 
 " Now, by God's death !" the monarch saith, with inanspicious smile, 
 As laughing, group the reckless troop round gray Montfaucon's pile; 
 " From off that hook its founder shook — Enguei rand de Marigni — J 
 But gibbet chain did ne'er sustain such burthen as Coligni." 
 
 * Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of the Emperor Maximilian, an amiable and 
 excelleii* princess, whose genuine piety presented a striking contrast to the san- 
 guinary fanaticism of her tyrannical and neglectful spouse. " O mon Dieu .'" 
 she cried, on the day of the massacre, of which she had been kept in ignorance ; 
 " quels conseillers sont ceux-la, qui ont donn^ le roi tel avis ? Mon Dieu ! je te supplie, 
 etje requiers de lui pardonner, car situ n'en as pitie j'ai grand peiir quecelte offense ne 
 lui soit pas pardonnte." 
 
 t Jean Poltrot dc litre, the assasin of Francois de Guise, father of the Balafre, 
 probably, in order to screen himself, accused Coligni and Beza of being the in- 
 stigators of his offence. His flesh was afterwards torn from his bones by red-hot 
 pincers, but Henri of Lorraine never considered his father's death fully avenged 
 until the massacre of the admiral. Cohgni's head was sent by Catherine de Me- 
 dicis to Rome as an offering to Gregory XHI. Upon this occasion the pope had 
 a medal struck off, stamped with an exterminating angel and subscribed— 6']?o- 
 notorum Strages. 
 
 J Pereat sua arte Perillus. Enguerrand de Marigni, grand chamberlain of 
 France during the reign of Philippe-le-Bel, constructed the famous gibbet of 
 Moutfaucon, and was himself among the first to glut its horrible fourches pati- 
 buhiiris, whence originated the ancient adage — Plus malheureux que le bois dont on 
 fait le gibet. 
 
218 CRTCHTOX. 
 
 VI. 
 " Back ! back ! my liege," exclaimed a paae, " with death the air is tainted. 
 The sun iirows iiot, and see you not, good sire, the queen has fainted." 
 *' Let those retire," quoth Charles in ire, " wlio think they stand too nigh; 
 To lis no scent yields sucli content as a dead enemy."* 
 
 VII. 
 
 As tiuis he spake tlic king did quake — he heard a dismal moan — 
 
 A wounded wretch had crept to stretch his bones beneath that stone : — 
 
 " Of (lying man," groaned lie, "the ban, tlic Lord's anointed dread, 
 
 Mv curse shall cling to thee, O king! — much righteous blood tliou'st slied." 
 
 vin. 
 
 " Now by Christ's blood! — by holy Rood !" cried Charles, impatiently; [die." 
 ♦' \\'itii sword and pike — strike, liegemen, strike ! — God's death ! this man shall 
 Strai'^lit halbert crashed, and Tnatclilock flashed — but ere a shot was fired — 
 With laugh of scorn that wight forlorn had suddenly expired. 
 
 IX. 
 
 From the Louvre gate, with heart elate. King Charles that morn did ride ; 
 With aspect dern did he return, quenched was his glance of pride : — 
 Kemorse and ruth, with serpent tooth, tiienceforth seized on his breast — 
 \\ ith bloody tide his couch was dyed — pale visions broke his rest !f 
 
 As the Baron cle Rosni concluded his sonp;, a sullen murmur 
 amongst the scholars, deepening as it proceeded, until it took the 
 character of an angry groan. 
 
 " Par la Porte d'Eufer, Avhich once conducted the neophyte to 
 ottr h.alls," muttered Harcourt, " I would as soon die with the Con- 
 fession of Augsburg upon my lips as listen to such another 
 ditty. Coligni's own epitaph would make a sprightlicr lav: — 
 
 Cy gist, mais c' est mal entendu, 
 Ce mot [)our luy est trop honneste, 
 Icy r Admiral est pendu 
 Par les pieds a faute de teste!"' 
 
 "Pas les pieds a fuute dc tcte !" chorussed tlilg, others, with a 
 roar of derisive laugliter. 
 
 " Peace, on your lives," cried Ogilvy, with a threatening gesture, 
 
 " By the memory of tlio good 'i homas Cruce, who slaughtered 
 eighty of these schismatics with his proper hand," whispered the 
 Sorbonist to the scholar of Ilarcourt; " I will wash out the affront 
 put upon us, in the blood of that accursed Scot — offensain ense 
 vindicaboy 
 
 " i\Iy blade shall second you," returned Harcourt in the same 
 tone. 
 
 * Ensulte Coligni fut trainc aux foiirches patibularies de IMontfaucon. Le Eoi 
 Tint jouir do ce spectacle, et s'cn montra insatiable. On ne concevait pas qu'il 
 put rosister a une telle odour ; on le prcssait de se retircr. Non dit-il, le cadavre 
 d'lin cnitcmi sent toujours hon .' — LACUATKi.Lii:. 
 
 t Lamahidie de Charles IX. etait aceompagnte de symp tomes plus violens qn'on 
 n'en remarque dans les maladies de langueur ; sa poitrine ctait particulierement 
 affectee ; mais son sang coulait par tons les pores ; d'affreux souvenirs persecu- 
 iaient sa pensee dans un lit toujours baigne de sang ; il voulait et ne pouvait paa 
 B'arrachcr de cette place. — Lackaelli;. Histoire de France pendant les Guerres de 
 Jieligion. 
 
219 
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 l!haqiie mot qu'il disait etait un trait de flamme; 
 Qui ]ien6trait Henri jusqu'au fond de son ame. 
 II quitte avec regret ce vieillard vertucux ; 
 Des pleurs en I'embrassant coult-rent de ses yeux. 
 
 Voltaire. Henriade: Chant. I, 
 
 No sooner had Rosni quitted his sovereign's presence than the 
 venerable Florent Chretien, approacliing Henri, took his hand and 
 pressed it fervently to his lips. As the king withdrew hio fingers 
 from the old man's grasp, he perceived tliey were wet with his tears. 
 
 " Nay, by my faith, my excellent friend," he said, in a tone of 
 great kindness, '' this must not be. Tears from such eyes as yours 
 are reproaches too cutting for endurance. I had rather you would 
 chide mc in the harshest terms you could employ, than assail me 
 with tlie only Aveapons against which I am not proof What 
 would you have me do?" 
 
 " Docs not your own great and generous heart, my liege," re- 
 turned the minister, " w^hich prompts you to interpret the overflow- 
 ing of an anxious breast into rebuke, tell you what course you ought 
 to pursue ? Does it not point out to you that your life, precious 
 in itself — but oh ! of inestimable value to all members of our pure 
 religion, to whom you are as Joshua or Maccaba;us, may not be 
 lightly imperilled by your own act without manifest departure from 
 that high course, which the King of kings hath appointed you to 
 run; and which in due season, if you remain true to yourself, and 
 to your cause, you will doubtless gloriously accomplish. Well and 
 truly hath your faithful follower the Baron de Rosni, spoken, when 
 he averred that on your safety depends that of tlie true Church 
 of Christ ; and not in vain will my tears have been shed, if they 
 avail to turn you from these vanities, and recall your nobler nature. 
 Better I should lament than your enemies rejoice. Better one 
 should blush in secret than a whole kingdom be turned to shame 
 for its sovereign's defection. Cast off this slavery of the senses. 
 Yield not to the devices and snares of the Prince of Darkness. 
 You are our guardian, our bulwark, our tower of strength. 
 Pause ere you wantonly expose our decimated flocks to the further 
 ravages of these devouring wolves." 
 
 As he spoke, the old man's eyes glistened, and his looks kindled 
 till his glowing countenance wore an air of apostolic fervour that 
 produced, more than his word?, a strong impression upon the king. 
 
 "Rest assured, my good friend," rephed Heni'i, " I will in no 
 way compromise my own security, or tliat of the church over whose 
 welfore I watch, and in whose behalf I liave raided my banner. 
 I have other and stronger motives than the mere love of such a 
 
220 CRICriTON. 
 
 pogcant which attract mc to these jousts, but I give you my word 
 as u king, that I will place neither my life nor my personal safety 
 in needless jeopardy. And now," he added, witli a smile, " thank- 
 ing you for your admonitory counsels, which, as you well know, are 
 seldom pleasant in royal ears; and having scarce leisure for a 
 longer homily, or even for further conference at this moment, let 
 us turn to your own peculiar concerns. If you have any commu- 
 nication to make, delay it not. I am impatient to know how I can 
 serve you." 
 
 " It is not in my own behalf that I would claim your majesty's 
 services," rejoined the preacher, " but in that of one in whom you 
 yourself are nearly interested. Know, sire, that a sister of thcs 
 Prince of Conde is at this moment a captive in the hands of the 
 bloody Jezabel of France. It is for her deliverance from thraldom 
 and oppression that I solicit your aid; and if you are resolved 
 to expose yourself to needless risk, let it be to effect the liberation 
 of a princess of your own royal blood, a zealous believer in our 
 creed, and in the eyes of a searcher of knightly adventure, for 
 as such I must regard your majesty, a distressed and forlorn 
 damsel." 
 
 " If this, indeed, were as you represent it, my good friend," re- 
 plied Henri, "you should have my instant aid, even though it were 
 needful to bear her from the Louvre with my handful of men. 
 But you have been deceived by some false statement. Our cousin 
 of Conde has no sister at the court of France." 
 
 " The prince believes she perished in her infancy, sire,"" returned 
 the preacher, " but her preservation from the sword of those fierce 
 Amalekites, who beset the good Louis de Bourbon on his flight to 
 Rochelle was little less than miraculous, as you will find when I 
 relate to you the history of this unfortunate princess, as it was de- 
 livered to me by one of the attendants of the queen-mother, who 
 hath recently become a convert to our faitli."" 
 
 " Your information is derived from a suspicious quarter, messire," 
 returned the king with a smile of incredulity. " Catherine's 
 cameriere are as deceitful to the full as the daughters of the Philis- 
 tines. I know them of old. Your proselyte may prove a Delilah 
 after all, and her specious story only a snare laid to entrap you. 
 Our uncle, Louis de Bourbon, it is true, hath often spoken of the 
 hapless fate of his infant daughter in the mountain defiles near San- 
 oerre, but he believed, nay, was assured, that she perished.^' 
 
 " Credit me, sire, she lives," replied Chretien. And he then 
 succinctly detailed such particulars of Esclairmonde's story as are 
 already familiar to the reader — adding that the princess had been 
 hitherto kept in ignorance of her illustrious origin from a fear lest 
 8ome inadvertence, not unnatural on the part of one so young and 
 inexperienced, should betray her consciousness of her real rank and 
 condition to the suspicions of Catherine, and mihtate against any 
 plans formed for her deliverance. The preacher likewise stated 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 221 
 
 that he had been summoned at an early hour on that morning to 
 the Louvre by Annunziata (the attendant from whom he had 
 obtained his knowledge of this important secret), to visit Esclair- 
 mondc — that she had revealed to him, without reserve, the events 
 of the preceding night — imploring him to free her from the perse- 
 cution of her royal lover, who, it appeared, had despatched a billet, 
 stating that if she offered further opposition to his passion he would 
 denounce her as a heretic to theinquisition of tlie Catholic priesthood. 
 " She was bathed in tears when I entered the chamber," said 
 Chretien, " and at first refused to be comforted, but deeming the 
 proper period arrived for its disclosure, I acquainted her with the 
 illustrious stock from which she sprang, and besought her to 
 comport herself like a descendant of that royal house." 
 
 " Ha ! corbleu ! how received she the intelligence ?" 
 
 " Like a daughter of the race of Bourbon," replied Chretien — 
 "her grief was at once checked, and she conferred calmly and deli- 
 berately with me upon the means of her evasion. One circumstance 
 alone appeared to give her uneasiness — but I doubt whether I am 
 at liberty to mention it to your majest3\'' 
 
 " Do not mention it, then, my good friend," returned the king, 
 "if it is aught the princess Avould not wish to be divulged to me." 
 
 " It is, however, desirable, I think, that your majesty should be 
 acquainted with the state of her heart, the rather that you may 
 form a judgment — " 
 
 '• Whether the alliance be suitable, ha! messlrc. What cavalier 
 has been so fortunate as to ingratiate himself into the good opinion 
 of tills captive princess?" 
 
 '• A Scottish gentleman, my liege, who hath greatly distinguished 
 himself at the court of your royal brother of France — the Cheva- 
 lier Crichton." 
 
 " Mort de ma vie!" exclaimed Henri, angrily; "doth he aspire 
 to her hand?" 
 
 " Your majesty forgets that he knew her only as one of Quoen 
 Catherine's maids of honour." 
 
 " True," replied the king, sternly, " but she is now our cousin, 
 and as such no mate for an adventurer." 
 
 " It was her sense of this change in her condition, my liege, and 
 of the impassable bar placed between her and her lover that gave 
 her so much pain: nor was her uneasiness diminished, when slie 
 learnt, as she shortly afterwards did, from a missive conveyed to her 
 from the Chevalier Crichton, that he had by accident made the 
 discovery of her exalted origin, and at the peril of his life 
 wrested the proofs of it from Catherine's own hands ; but in his 
 endeavour to transmit the packet to her, while he was yet in tho 
 power of the queen-mother, it had been irrecoverably lost." 
 
 " Ventre-salnt-gris 1" exclaimed Henri; "were there such 
 proofs ?' 
 
 " The Chevalier Crichton afErraed that the packet contained 
 
2:;2 CRICnxON. 
 
 letters from the quccii-mother, the jMarcclial de Tavanncs, and the 
 Cardinal of Lorraine." 
 
 " Diable !" cried the king, with vivacity, "those letters were 
 well worth the risk of a life, and would have obviated the neces- 
 sity of bring forward the scarce credible statement of your proselyte 
 Annunziata. Heaven grant they have not fallen again into Catlic- 
 rine's clutches ! It was a bold deed to tear her prey from the 
 lioness, and this Crichton hath proved himself a cavalier of no 
 mean prowess. One question more, good Chretien, did not this 
 Scottish knight promise to finish his adventure by delivering our 
 captive cousin?" 
 
 " Of a verity, my liege, he did so," returned the preacher with 
 6ome reluctance. 
 
 '* I knew as much," said Henri, smiling; " Esclairmonde is now 
 at the Louvre ? — ha !" 
 
 '•' In the train of Queen Louise, whom she accompanies at noon 
 to the lists, where, by his majesty's commands, she presides as 
 sovereign arbitress. To-night there is a new fete and masque at 
 the Louvre. Before that time she must be delivered from thral- 
 dom, or her fate is sealed." 
 
 " Before that hour she shall be delivered," replied the king, " or 
 I will myself proclaim her rank before Henri and his assembled court. 
 But time presses, good Chretien, and I must to the tilt-yard." 
 
 " Your majesty — " 
 
 "Is peremptory — headstrong — what you will? But waste no 
 more words upon me. Tarry here till the jousts are over, and I will 
 rejoin you." 
 
 As he spoke, the king made a sign to the Baron de Rosni, who, 
 with a glance of ineffable disdain at the menacing gestures of 
 the scholars, instantly rejoined him, and after a little further 
 conversation with the preacher, and a valediction, which greatly 
 scandalised the good old man, proffered to his buxom hostess, 
 Henri and his follower quitted the cabaret. 
 
 They were about to mount the steeds awaiting their coming 
 forth, at the door of the tavern, when a band of equerries, pages, 
 and gentleman-ushers in superb liveries of crimson velvet, slashed 
 with yellow satin, accompanied by a crowd of trumpeters and haut- 
 boy-players blowing loud flourishes, rode furiously down the Rue 
 Pelican, shouting as they passed "Make way for the queen-mother 
 — stand back — stand back." Henri drew his cap closely over his 
 brow at this intimation, and appeared to busy himself about the 
 saddle of his charger. Presently Catherine appeared mounted upon 
 a beautiful Spanish jennet, and attended by her ''^petite hande des 
 dames" all on horseback, on their way to the Louvre. It was im- 
 possible • to conceive a gayer or more attractive sight than this 
 brilliant troop of youthful dames, each attended by a page habited 
 in her colours, presented. All were masked in demi-vizards of vari- 
 ous dyes, and the beholder therefore could do little more than guess 
 at the loveliness of their lineaments. But the brightness of the orbs 
 
I 
 
 THE HUGUENOT. 223 
 
 flashing througli the apertures of those witching tourets de nez — tho 
 splendour of their attire — the grace they displayed on their steeds 
 — the -waving of their silken tresses — the elegance and lightness of 
 their figures, left him in little incertitude as to the charms of feature 
 thus enviously concealed from view. In spite of the risk incurred 
 by such a proceeding, Henri could not resist the temptation of 
 stealing a glance at the fair equestrians as they passed in review 
 before him ; and as the person of one, who seemed to be more ex- 
 quisitely proportioned than her companions attracted his ardent gaze, 
 the damsel (it was La Rebours) remarked to her companion — 
 " Sainte Marie ! La Fosseuse, only see how much that soldier resem- 
 bles the King of Navarre !" 
 
 " Nenni !" returned La Fosseuse pertly, " I discover no likeness 
 — or if there is any, the soldier has decidedly the advantage over 
 the monarch — his shoulders are broader." 
 
 "Perhaps so," sighed La Rebours; " but the resemblance is very 
 remarkable." And as she turned her head to satisfy herself of the 
 fact, tlie king had disappeared. "How very singular!" she 
 thought, musing on the circumstance as slie rode along. 
 
 We will now return to the cabaret and inquire after the Gelosa. 
 With difficulty the unhappy maiden mastered her terror when she 
 perceived Ogilvy engaged in a second brawl with the scliolars, and 
 found herself deserted by both her protectors ; but her alarm was 
 greatly increased, when after the departure of the Baron de Rosni, 
 the menaces of the scholars assumed a more dcterminatcly hostile 
 shape, and the Scot was loudly threatened with death on all sides. 
 Neither could the strong arms of Blount and the Swiss sergeant, 
 nor the peaceful interposition of the preacher, avail to allay the 
 storm. They cried out loudly for his blood, and swords and daggers 
 were drawn — tables and benches overturned — glasses broken — 
 deep and vindictive oaths uttered; and a sanguinary conflict must 
 have ensued, had not the Chevalier du Guct and liis two lieutenants 
 armed with partisans, and accompanied by several other personages 
 in sable dresses, whose sallow countenances as well as certain pecu- 
 liarities in their costume, proclaimed them to be Italians, suddenly 
 entered the tavern. The chief of the watch commanded peace in 
 the Icing's name ; and apprehensive of the consequences of a refusal 
 to ohoy his order, the combatants were compelled to sheath their 
 blades. But in the mean time another event occurred, which gave 
 a new turn to the afiair, and served to re-awaken their suspended 
 animosity. As her eye rested upon the new comers, Ginevra could 
 not repress a faint scream, and attracted by the sound, one of the 
 foremost of their number instantly rushed towards her, and ere the 
 hapless maiden could offer any resistance, she found herself in the 
 power of the followers of Gonzaga. To rush to her assistance, to 
 extricate her from the grasp of her assailant, was with Ogilvy the 
 work of a moment. But his assistance was ineffectual. Ginevra 
 only escaped from one hand to be retaken by the other. The 
 
224 CRICHTON. 
 
 Sorbonist twined his arms round the form of the fiying girl and 
 "bore her back to her captors. Ogilvy nicanvvhile had not relin- 
 quished the grasp he had fixed upon the Itahan. In the struggle 
 that succeeded, a packet fell from the doublet of the latter. The 
 Scot recognised it at once. 
 
 " Ah 1" he exclaimed, setting his foot upon the papers, " to the 
 rescue, Blount — to the rescue — there is the object of our patron 
 Cricliton's search — the documents establishing the Princess Esclair- 
 monde's birth — to the rescue — to the rescue !" 
 
 " Gracious heaven 1" exclaimed the preacher, "to his aid, young 
 man. I would fain wield a sword in such a cause myself — help ! — 
 help!" 
 
 Blount needed not this incitement to draw sword. He threw 
 himself resolutely upon the Italians, whose weapons were all 
 directed against Ogilvy 's breast, and struck the foremost of them 
 to the ground. But his purpose was checked by a sudden and fatal 
 issue being put to the combat. One of the followers of Gonzaga, 
 watching his opportunity, plunged his stiletto deeply into Ogilvy 's 
 breast. Without a groan, though he felt himself mortally 
 wounded, the Scot now stooped down, and receiving, as he did, 
 numberless wounds from his adversaries, obtained possession of the 
 packet. 
 
 " Take it," he said, as with a dying effort he reached the English- 
 man's side, "you know its destination — heed me not — away — my 
 strength will not avail me to fly, but my heart goes with you and 
 to my patron — tell him — biat I cannot speak — go — go." 
 
 Uttering these words, he committed the packet to Blount's 
 custody, and suddenly turning, confronted his adversaries with a 
 look so fierce and desperate, that the boldest of them shrank back 
 appalled. 
 
 " Follow me, messire," whispered Dame Fredcgonde, who, under 
 cover of the protecting arm of the Swiss sergeant, had ventured to 
 approach the combatants, " follow me," she said, plucking Blount's 
 sleeve, " and you too, worthy sir," addressing the preacher, " you 
 can render little assistance to that dying man, and your presence 
 will only incite these murtherous students to further acts of violence. 
 Holy Virgin ! — blessed Luther, I mean — but I scarcely know 
 what I am saying — that such a fray as this should dishonour my 
 dwelling. INlaitre Jacques, look to their swords — mercy upon us ! 
 — ward them off— I will find means to requite your valour — come 
 along, messires — quick — quick, this way — this way." 
 
 Blount looked irresolute. 
 
 " By Saint Ben'et," he said, " I never yet turned my back 
 upon an enemy ; and I see not why I should fly for the first time 
 when I have a friend to avenge." 
 
 " If thou wouldst indeed avenge me, tarry not," cried Ogilvy. 
 And as he spoke, the sword of one of his antagonists was thrust 
 through his body, and the Scot fell to the earth. 
 
 "Let them not wholly triumph," gasped the dying man, — " ah: 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 225 
 
 he escapes," he cried, turning his glazing eyes in the direction of 
 Blount, who defended by the nervous arm and huge falchion of the 
 Swiss, as well as by the dreaded fmgs of his dog Druid, and guided 
 by the friendly hostess, speedily ellected his retreat, together with the 
 preacher, through a small doorway, not hitherto observed by the 
 guests. As this door was closed and barricaded by the stalwart 
 person of IMaitre Jacques, a smile of exultation lighted up Ogilvy's 
 features: " I die content," he murmured. 
 
 At this moment a piercing shriek rent the air. It proceeded 
 from the Gelosa. Her captors were about to bear her off, but find- 
 ing lier outcries continued, one of them twisted a scarf round 
 her throat in such a manner that it was impossible for the wretched 
 maiden to utter further sound. This done, regarding neither the 
 entreaties of Dame Fredegonde, nor the impotent threats of Ogilvy, 
 they disappeared with their prey. At the same time the Chevalier 
 du Guet and his attendants quitted the tavern. 
 
 " Recreants,"" cried tlie Scot, who had raised himself upon one 
 arm — " will none lend a hand to the rescue ? — will none help her? 
 — That youth, as you deem him, is a maiden in disguise, — Avill ye 
 stand by and sec wrong done to a woman — to the rescue if ye be 
 men !" 
 
 " Tliink you we will defend thy leman, fool," said the Sorbonist, 
 with a derisive laughter, as he passed him; " our vengeance is now 
 fully complete — thou art robbed of life and thy mistress — ha — ha. 
 — Come, comrades, let us to the hsts. This augurs well. This 
 Scot's countryman may chance to meet a like downfal. We shall 
 see. And hark ye, messires, if we can lay hands upon that heretic 
 preacher, we will see if there is a fagot to be found in the Pr^-aux- 
 clercs : 
 
 Death to the Huguenot ! — fagot and flame I 
 Death to the Huguenot! — torture and sliame ! 
 
 Death! — Death!" 
 
 And all joining in this menacing chorus, the scholars quitted the 
 cabaret. 
 
 Scarcely had the reckless troop gained the street, when a band 
 of men, wearing the livery of the Vicomte de Joyeuse, entered the 
 chamber. 
 
 " Where is the youth whom we are to conduct from Paris?** 
 asked their leader, glancing around in astonishment and alarm. 
 
 " In the hands of ," gasped Ogilvy. 
 
 But ere he could complete the sentence, the brave Scot becamo 
 for ever silent. 
 
226 CRICHTON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PROCKSSION. 
 
 Genets, coursicrs, riches bardes, houssures, 
 Plumars rcmplis d'orpliiiveries fines, 
 Chamfrains dores a grans entrel assures, 
 Armets luysans, bicquoquets, capelines, 
 Bucques die pris, tres riclics mantelines — 
 
 Andre de la Vigxe. Le Vergier d'Honneur. 
 
 As the hour for opening tlie lists drew nigli, all the avenues 
 and approaches of the Louvre were thronged with eager and 
 curious crowds hurrying from each quarter to behold the chival- 
 rous pageant. This concourse consisted of every class of society 
 to be foixnd in the vast and miscellaneous population of Paris, from 
 the sedate citizen and his demure spouse, to be distinguished by 
 
 fjropriety of gear, (costume being then regulated by sumptuary 
 aws), down to the rough half-clothed boatmen who plied upon 
 the Seine, and the sturdy artisan Avho haunted its banks. Nor 
 must we omit a host of Jews, beggars, truands, and other non- 
 descript vagabonds who usually formed the mass of a Parisian 
 crowd at the period of our narrative. Amongst these the magis- 
 trates of the city, the provosts of the merchants, the echevins and 
 their followers, in bipartite robes of crimson, and tawny-coloured 
 stuffs embroidered with a silver ship (the civic cognizance), the 
 sergeants, archers, cross-bowmen, and arquebusiers of the town-guard 
 cut a conspicuous figure. As usually happens, however, where a 
 crowd is collected, the softer sex predominated. For one steel or 
 felt cap there were ten coifs of silk or linen. Nor were the mem- 
 bers of the various religious fraternities wanting : the gray or russet 
 frock — the cowl, or shaven head — and the long staff — might be 
 detected amid the dense assemblage. Cordeliers, Carmelites, and 
 Minims were mingled with the higher dignitaries of the church. 
 The students of the university, ever on the alert when a spectacle 
 was about to take place, herded thither in vast bands. Here came 
 acourtly abbe — it was our acquaintance, Pierre de Boiu'deille — upon 
 a mide with its superb housings, followed by a train of richly-clad 
 lacqueys. 
 
 The mob doffed their caps as Brantome ambled on. Next 
 appeared what in our own time would be regarded with much mer- 
 riment, but which Avas then a matter of too frequent occurrence 
 to excite either surprise or ridicule, a couple of gaily-attired 
 youths mounted upon the same steed — then a cavalier and dame, 
 likewise on horseback, the latter seated on a velvet pillion, 
 her features concealed, as was the universal mode with the 
 ladies when out of doors, by a demi-mask. The housings of the 
 
THE PROCESSION. 227 
 
 charger were unusually superb ; his broad martingal and wide- 
 reined bridle being of crimson leather richly ornamented with gold. 
 Next followed a company of singly-mounted cavaliers, with a host 
 of valets and attendants arrayed in the extremity of the court 
 fashion, with nodding feathers and fluttering mantles ; the curvet- 
 ing of their coursers, and the blows of their houssi7ies, as they dashed 
 recklessly onwards, occasioned considerable confusion amongst the 
 foot-passengers ; and the smiles and compliments tliey lavished upon 
 the fair citoyennea and their daughters, hardly compensated with the 
 bluff" bvn'gesscs for their own sprained slioulders and broken heads. 
 Nevertheless, in spite of the jostling and hustling, the striving, 
 straining, and squeezing, tlie utmost good humour prevailed ; but 
 this, indeed, might be attributed to tlie presence of so many armed 
 authorities. 
 
 Loud sliouts were now raised, and the multlt'.ide was pushed 
 backwards and driven into more compact masses as the magnificent 
 litter of tlie Queen of Navarre Avas borne along to the Louvre. In 
 vain did the spectators endeavour to catch a glimpse of the features 
 or person oi" the lovely jNIargucrite. A mask defied their scrutiny, 
 and she leaned back in her carriage as if anxious to elude observa- 
 tion. Not so her attendant, Torigni. The swan-like throat of the 
 sprightly Florentine might be observed above the sides of the 
 vehicle, and her snowy hand, divested of its glove, and covered 
 with rings, negligently arranged a raven ringlet. Marguerite's litter 
 swept by, and was followed by the huissiers and guard of the go- 
 vernor of Paris. Kene de Villequier boasted the most magnificent 
 caroche in Paris; and the vehicle which, upon this occasion, con- 
 veyed the portly person of the marquis, was little inferior in deco- 
 ration and uildinir, thouirh somewhat different in construction, from 
 our own Lord Mayor's state equipage. 
 
 Then came the trampling of hoofs, and the loud fanfiires of 
 trumpets, and the superbly-accoutred band of Gascon gentlemen — 
 forty-five in number, whence tlieir designation — commanded by 
 the Baron d'Epernon, wheeled into sight ; the sun-beams brigluly 
 glancing upon their corslets, and upon the tips of their lances. The 
 last fourteen of this gallant company were slieathed in complete 
 steel, with yellow scarves crossing their burnished cuirasses. Tw^o 
 pages succeeded in the violet-coloured livery of the baron, Avith 
 his blazon displayed upon their sleeves and doublets. Then came 
 his esquires sustaining his shield, charged likewise with his cogni- 
 sance ; and lastly appeared D'Epernon himself, in a costly suit of 
 russet armour, enriched with chiselled arabesques and deep reliefs 
 of gold. 
 
 Scarcely had the admiration excited by the baron's retinue sub' 
 sided, ere the spectators were attracted towards a further display ol 
 knightly splendour. A flourish of trumpets blown by six mounted 
 men-at-arms, whose clarions were ornamented with sdken bandrok 
 irinired Avith gold, displaying tli" princely scutcheon of the family 
 
 Q2 
 
228 CRICHTON". 
 
 of Gonzaga, announced the approach of the Duke of Nevers, 
 The duke rode a noble Arabian courser, and proceeded at a slow 
 and stately pace. His valets and pages were more numerous than 
 those of the Baron d'Epernon, and he was attended by four gen- 
 tlemen ushers, who walked by his side bareheaded, with wands in 
 their hands. He was fully armed in a suit of Milan steel, of the 
 finest workmanship. His breast-plate was brighter than silver, and 
 reflected the rays of the sun as from a dazzling mirror. His bur- 
 ganet, and his corslet, were crusted with gold and pearls, and 
 i'rom his neck, suspended to a chain of the same metal, hung the 
 order of the Saint-Esprit. A plume of white ostrich feathers nodded 
 on his crest. 
 
 His demeanour was so dignified, and his train so sumptuous, 
 that his appearance was greeted by the assemblage with deafening 
 acclamations — acknowledged by the proud duke with a haughty 
 inclination of the head. Nor was the popularity of the wily Italian 
 diminished, as his attendants showered amongst the mob broad 
 silver pieces, for which they fought and scrambled. By his side, in 
 full ecclesiastical costume of scarlet silk simar with lawn sleeves 
 and snowy rochet, and upon a sleek, w^ell-fed mule, led by two 
 attendants, each of whom had a hand upon the bridle, rode Pierre 
 de Gondi, Bishop of Paris; a prelate in high favour with the queen- 
 mother, to whom, indeed, he owed his elevation. There was 
 somethino; sinister in the dark and sliiftino^ oknce of this Floren- 
 tine churchman, which seemed to confirm the horrible reports 
 that prevailed as to the motives of Catherine's predilection for 
 him. But be this as it may, the hypocritical smile which now lit 
 up his sallow features was construed by the observers into an ex- 
 pression of infinite benevolence, the rather that his almoner, who 
 followed closely at his heels, distributed a dole with no sparing hand. 
 
 Immediately behind the suite of the Due de Nevers came an 
 esquire ot Vincenzo de Gonzaga, bearing a small triangular sliield, 
 painted white, on which appeared the device of a sable mask, in- 
 scribed with the motto Vendetta. This esquire wore the livery of 
 the prince (the combined hues of red and yellow) displayed in the 
 flowing satin housings of his steed, traversed with broad cross-bars 
 of orange and crimson, in his slashed velvet doublet, haut-de-chausses 
 of different dyes, and parti-coloured plumes. Next advanced a band 
 of youthful pages magnificently attired, and mounted on coursers 
 caparisoned in cloth of gold, barred like the housings of the esquire, 
 the stripes being described upon their gorgeous trappings by alter- 
 nate lines of frieze-wrought and smooth-beaten tissue. Upon the 
 silken just-au-corps of each page was embroidered in golden thread 
 the ducal badge of Mantua and Montferrat. So gorgeous were 
 their appointments in detail, that their bonnets, shoes, saddles, 
 bridles, and even the scabbards of their rapiers blushed with crimson 
 velvet. 
 
 Then followed a host of lacqueys on foot, similarly, though less 
 
THE rnocESSioN. 229 
 
 pplendidly arrayed ; then another esquire sustaining the tri-coloured 
 lance of the prince, decorated with silken pennonce-l ; then two 
 foot-pages attired in habiUments of cloth of gold and silk, leading 
 his steed — a mighty Allemayne charger with eyes of flame, ex- 
 panded nostril, and pawing hoof — furnished for Gonzaga's use by 
 the provident Due do Nevers. Thick crimson velvet housing, 
 enwoven with the ducal cognizance, covered this noble animal, and 
 descended almost to his pastern joints; the saddle was of velvet of 
 the same hue as the rest of the harness — the chamfrin, or head- 
 piece was of gilded mail, with a short projecting steel pike, and 
 tufts of scarlet, and saffron-stained plumes adorned liis front and 
 croup. 
 
 Lastly, armed cap-a-pce, in a suit of black mail embossed with 
 gold and precious stones, rode the Prince Vincenzo. A gurde-bras^ 
 or haute-pitce, as it w^as subsequently termed, covered the front of 
 his cuirass, and defended his tliroat and left arm, so far as the 
 gaimtlct; but being of a single piece, and introduced in those 
 later days of chivalry, for the better security of the jousters, the 
 posture assumed by the kniglit, who adopted this sale-guard in the 
 combat, became fixed and unalterable as that of a statue; his right 
 arm alone being left at liberty. A tall egret of sable feathers sha- 
 dowed his helm ; and with his vizor closed, and maintaining, of 
 necessity, a stern and moveless attitude, Gonznga passed slowly 
 onwards. His cortege was completed by another band of gaudy 
 valets, and the minstrels, who enlivened the procession with the 
 tambour, the cornet, and the clarion. 
 
 A fresh clangour of trumpets admonished the spectators that 
 other comers were at hand ; and the announcement was speedily 
 followedby the brilliant retinue of the Vicomte de Joyeuse, which, 
 if it could not vie with that of Gonzaga in magnificence, surpassed 
 it in number and consequence, consisting of a throng of lordlings 
 and youthful gentlemen of the best families of France, who were 
 eager upon this occasion to array themselves under the banners of 
 their monarch's chief lavourite, and to distinguish themselves with 
 the snowy scarf which he had adopted as his ensign. It was true 
 the same prodigality of cloth of gold and velvet was not here ex- 
 hibited, as in the preceding cavalcade ; — 
 
 Mais de liarnois, ne d'arrmire de jouste, 
 Ne leur failloit line petite piece. 
 
 There was no lack of " tilting furniture, emblazoned shields." A 
 gayer troop was never seen. Nor could a greater contrast have 
 been found to that which preceded it. The vi^•acity of their 
 hilarious leader seemed to have diliiised itself throughout his com- 
 pany. Success appeared to be written in their beaming features. 
 Nothing was heard but shouts of laughter, and the jingling of arms; 
 nothing seen but the waving of plumes and banners, the glitter 
 of helm and spear, and caracoling of coursers. 
 
 Completely armed in a suit of polished steel, Joyeuse rode a 
 
230 CRICHTON. 
 
 charger barded ■with lajg lei et grand couvrechief of silver tissue, 
 edged with azure fringe; and wore a scarf of white silk, richly em- 
 broidered, thrown across his left shoulder. From his morion 
 floated a lambrequin of slashed satin, and his surcoat was decorated 
 with his armorial bearings. His liandsome countenance was radiant 
 with gaiety; and he conversed in an animated manner with a 
 ' knight, who careered by his side, and upon whom, even more than 
 the vicomte, the attention of the gazers was fixed. Nor was the 
 appearance of this cavalier undeserving the admiration he excited. 
 He seemed the very mirror of chivalry. The experienced horse- 
 man applauded the consummate grace with which he sat his courser 
 (a powerful and beautifully-formed bay, whose skin shone almost 
 0,° brightly as his rider's coat of mail), and the ease with which he 
 ever and anon compelled him to perform the balotades, croupades, 
 and other graces of the high manege, alluded to in the following 
 
 alliterative verses — 
 
 Vite virade, 
 Pompante pannade, 
 Saut soiilevant, 
 Prompte petarrade, 
 
 while the female portion of the assemblage marvelled at the exceed- 
 ing beauty of feature, disclosed by the open vizor of his casque, 
 and the manly symmetry of the limbs, defined by his light and 
 curiously-fashioned breastplate, " brassards, cuissards, jamb and 
 solleret." The housings ot his steed were of white damask, diapered 
 with gold, and bordered with minever. His chamfrin was decorated 
 like that of Gonzaga, with a superb /lOupe de plumes, and similarly 
 accoutred. From the crest of the knight depended a lambrequin 
 of slashed silk; and his surcoat was woven with his blazon, a lion 
 rampant azure, armed, and iangued gules. 
 
 Following this preux chevalier, rode two esquires, in liveries of 
 azure and white; the one carrying his painted lance, on the coronel 
 of which was fastened a knot of ribbands; the gage, doubtless, of 
 the dame in whose honour he was about to run a course: the 
 other bearing a silver shield with the device of a dragon vert, 
 spouting out fire, and the motto Loyal au mort, inscribed in blue 
 characters upon a scroll. 
 
 When it became known to the assemblage that this knight, in 
 whom all felt so much interest, was no other than the Admirable 
 Crichton, the adversary of the Prince of Mantua, their acclamations 
 were so loud and deafening, and the eflbrts of those in the rear so 
 strenuous to obtain a nearer view of his person and features, that it 
 required the application of both partisan and sword on part of the 
 attendants to keep back the rabble ; while the object of their curi- 
 ")sity, apprehensive of some such tumult taking place, as occurred 
 »n the preceding day at the university, was fain to set spurs to his 
 charger, and to urge his companions into a quicker movement, in 
 order to escape from observation. 
 , *' By my halidom !" exclaimed Joyeuse, as they reached the grand 
 
THE PUOCESSION. 231 
 
 portal of the Louvre, and found the space before it invested with 
 a gay confusion of Htters, caroches, steeds, lacqueys, and pages in 
 various and resplendent liveries — " to judge from this rout we shall 
 have a goodly attendance at our jousting. You inust do your 
 devoir gallantly, rnon clier, for you will have the eyes of all the 
 chivalry and beauty of France upon you. There is not a magnate 
 of our court, whose colours I do not discern amidst yon rout of 
 servitors. But we arc late. Those knaves in the slashed doublets 
 form part of the train of our challenger's padrino. Gonzaga is 
 already in the steccato^ 
 
 " Better be the last to enter the field than the first to quit it," 
 replied Crichton, smiling. " But whom have we here? By Saint 
 Andrew ! my gossip, Chicot. So ho ! Bayard," he cried, patting 
 the neck of his charger, who, obedient to his voice, instantly stood 
 still, but evinced his impatience by arcliing his neck, champing at 
 the bit, snorting and pawing tlie ground. " What wouldst thou?" 
 demanded the Scot, as the jester approached him with an odd 
 serio-comic look. 
 
 " I am the bearer of a cartel to thee," replied the jester, in a tone 
 of mock defiance. 
 
 " Gramercy — gossip — a challenge!" ejaculated Crichton; "from 
 thy brother, Siblot, to shiver a marotte against his cock's-comb? 
 Ha ! But knowst thou not, that by the laws of honour, I am 
 restrained from entering into a second quarrel until my first be dis- 
 posed of ?" 
 
 " I know it," answered Chicot, in an under tone. " But you 
 must offer some response, yea or nay, to my appeal. Here is the 
 missive," he added, delivering a perfumed note, sealed and secured 
 with a silken thread, to the Scot; "peruse it, and deliver me your 
 answer without wrong or supersticerie." 
 
 " The cipher of the Queen of Navarre," exclaimed Crichton, as 
 he regarded the billet; " nay, then, it is indeed a combat a outrauce." 
 
 " I would advise you to decline tlie encounter, or rather peace- 
 ably to arrange it," returned the jester; " but in the mean time will 
 it please you to read the cartel, and furnish me with some token of 
 your intentions to convey to my royal mistress." 
 
 Crichton hastily broke open the seal, and as his eye glanced over 
 the contents of the note, a slight flush of anger rose upon his check. 
 
 " I Avill rather perish than accept the terms she proposes," he 
 murmured, tearing it in pieces, and scattering the fragments to the 
 breezes. 
 
 " Hold, gossip," cried Chicot; "reserve that thread of gold; 1 
 am to take that to her majesty as a sign of your acquiescence." 
 
 " Never," answered Crichton, sternly; " tell her I have burst 
 her chains. She would have some token — 'tis well," he added; 
 withdrawing his gauntlet from his hand, and giving the bezoar-ring 
 to the jester, " let this gem be a proof to her that I neither fear 
 her threats, nor will accept of lier tenderness." 
 
232 CRICHTON, 
 
 " Par Sainct Fiacre en Brie !" cried Chicot, looking after him 
 with a smile of derision, as he dashed swiftly through the gate- 
 way, " I will prove a better friend to thee tlian tliou deservest. 
 This ring will well beseem my own finger, while this thread," he 
 added, picking up the fastening of the billet, " will perfectly 
 content her jealous majesty of Navarre. For what saith the good 
 Pantagruel — 
 
 Paternostres et oraisons 
 
 Sont pour ceux-la qui les retiennent: 
 
 Ung fiffre allant en fenaisons, 
 
 Est plus fort que deux qui en viennent. 
 
 And chanting this wholesome advice " de la marraine de mon 
 jrmid-pere" he entered the lofty portal of the Louvre. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE LISTS. 
 
 Ce jour de may en beau harnois de guerre, 
 Nous joustames assez doucettement, 
 Et de iioz fais qui en voudroit enquerre 
 Icy n'en fais mencion autrement. 
 
 Louis de Beadveau. Le Pas de la Bergiire. 
 
 Accompanied by the Vicomte de Joyeuse, Crichton now rode 
 into the champ clos appointed for tlie combat. Erected within a 
 court, at the back of the Louvre, the lists were elevated to the 
 height of the thigh-piece of the jousters, and extended to the 
 length of sixty yards; while the space within the barriers, being 
 carefully sanded and cleared of all impediments, offered a very ad- 
 vantageous arena for the exhibition of knightly prowess. 
 
 Along the facade of the palace, on a level with the windows now 
 thrown open, for the convenience of the spectators, was raised a 
 temporary balcony, descending in wide steps, and hung with mag- 
 nificent tapestry. Divided, at certain distances, into open canopies, 
 fashioned of the richest brocade, decorated with fleurs-de-lys ciphers 
 and escutcheons, and fluttering with silken streamers, this balcony 
 occupied one side of the quadrangular court. At the further ex- 
 tremity of tlie lists stood a grand roofed gallery, supported by heavy 
 pillars, destined for the reception of the three queens, their atten- 
 dants and dames of honour. The curtains and hangings of this 
 splendid structure were of gridelin velvet, flowered with ciphers of 
 silver ; displaying in the centre a vast argent shield, emblazoned 
 with the royal escutcheon of France. At the right of the tilt- 
 yard was placed a scaffold, with palisades reserved for Montjoie, 
 the king-at-arms, the marslials and judges of the field; and next 
 to it, under a canopy fretted with gold, ran a line of tabourets, 
 set apart for the favourites of Henri HL ; in the centre of which 
 was a raised velvet fauteuil for his majesty's own occupation. 
 
THE LISTS. 233 
 
 At either end stood two pavilions of striped silk for the use of 
 the esquires, armourers, and other attendants of the combatants. 
 Upon a low scatfold to the left of the grand gallery, guarded by 
 four officials, disguised in the ghastly leaden-coloured hood called 
 the chaperon, and surrounded by a band of halberdiers, stood Rug 
 gieri; with his hands folded upon his bosom, and his eyes fixed 
 upon the ground. 
 
 Indicating to his retinue the position they were to occupy, Joy- 
 euse rode through the entrance of the lists and joined the marshals 
 of the field. Crichton followed more slowly. The breast of the 
 Scot beat high as he gazed on the inspiring scene. The morning 
 was bright and beautiful ; the sunbeams {.danced on casque, and 
 corslet, and on the thousand dyes of banner and blazon ; the soft 
 breeze, tempered by tlic genial warmth of approaching spring, 
 served with its freshening breath to give enthusiasm to the heart, 
 and vigour to the frame ; and so fully did Crichton feel the influ- 
 ence of these stirring thoughts, that spurring his charger, he com- 
 pelled him to perfoim a demi-volte in the air, and tlien to career 
 round the arena. All was animation and excitement. The rustle 
 of silks, the pleasant sound of gentle voices, the flash of brilliants 
 from above, annovmced the arrival of the anges de pnradis (as they 
 were rapturously termed by the minstrels) in the balconies. Each 
 casement of the Louvre poured forth its stream of beauty ; and as 
 the Scot gazed upon those lovely and high-born dames, whose natural 
 charms were heightened to the utmost by the aid of costliest orna- 
 ment and dress, he felt his bosom beat Avith redoubled ardour. 
 Reining liis steed, he paused to look around. On all sides were 
 r;ingcd dense masses of spectators, over whose uncovered heads 
 bristled the glancing pikes and halberts of the sergeants. On the 
 right of the royal gallery were arrayed the fourteen followers of 
 D'Epernon, glistening in steel, and headed by the baron him- 
 self: on the left, behind the scaffold of the astrologer, stood the 
 sumptuous retinue of the Due de Nevers. Bands of cavaliers, who, 
 on the appearance of the dames on the balcony, regardless of the 
 interdiction of the heralds, had dashed into the course, were 
 now seen extending their lances towards its sides, Avhence fell a 
 shower of wreaths, bracelets, and scarves, which were speedily at- 
 tached to salade and spear. Much occupation was thus given to 
 the king-at-arms and the marshals, wliose province was to maintain 
 a clear field ; and the champions, waving their hands to the mis- 
 tresses of their hearts, quitted the ring. Amid the subordinate 
 officers of the tilt-yard, must be enumerated the pursuivants, the 
 trumpeters with their clarions dressed with silken flags, and troops 
 of minstrels stationed at e;ieli outlet. 
 
 A sliout was now raised by the crowd, and the Scot's attention 
 was directed towards tlie grand gallery, in whicli tlie Queen Louise 
 and her demoiselles made their appearance. Ainid the latter 
 Crichton at once distinguished Esclairmonde. The Princess of 
 Conde was pei fectly pale ; but her want of bloom in nowise 
 
234 CRICHTON. 
 
 detracted from her loveliness. On tlie contrary, she had never 
 before appeared so eminently beautiful in the eyes of her lover; 
 nor had he heretofore, as he thouglit, remarked so much dig- 
 nity and self-possession in her demeanour. In fact, the events 
 of the last night, and the knowledge so recently and mys- 
 teriously acquired of her exalted origin, had worked a sudden 
 but entire change in Esclairmonde's character. She was no longer 
 an orphan maiden without name, and without family. She now 
 felt a pride, of which she had been hitherto unconscious, kindled 
 within her bosom; and a resolution, as yet Avholly unknown to her, 
 animate and sustain her spirits against the perils and difficulties to 
 which she was exposed. This new-sprung courage was the more 
 fully proved in the ordeal to which she was shortly afterwards 
 subjected in an interview with Catherine de Medicis and Margue- 
 rite de Valois; both of whom, with their attendants, now entered 
 the fjullcrv. But her firnmess did not fail her in this trial; and she 
 returned the scrutinising look of the queen-mother with a glance 
 as lofty as her own. Marguerite was all smiles and courtesy : but 
 the smile of a rival is little to be trusted, and Crichton, who was 
 well acquainted with Marguerite's talent for dissimulation, read in 
 her professions of friendship, and winning attentions, the deadliest 
 treachery. These greetings concluded, Esclairmonde, at the request 
 of Queen Louise, took the throne appointed for her as sovereign 
 arbitress of the tourney, — a chair placed a little in advance of 
 the royal seats, and so situated as to make her the principal object 
 of attraction to the spectators. Her costume was a robe of white 
 damask, flowered with silver, with sleeves of snowy silk of the 
 ample mode of the period, embroidered Avith roseate and green 
 pearls. Never had Queen of the Lists appeared so attractive; and 
 a murmur of admiration arose fronr the multitude as she became 
 more fully revealed to their view. 
 
 At this moment the gaze of the princess fell upon the knightly 
 figure of her lover, who, bending to his saddle-bow, gracefully 
 tendered his homage. As she returned the salutation, Esclair- 
 monde trembled, and lier courage entirely forsook her. Crichton 
 perceived the change in her deportment; and anxious, if possible, to 
 dissipate her anxiety, compelled his steed into its liveliest caracoles; 
 and was about to quit tlie field, when his progress was arrested by 
 loud cries of" Nod! Noel! — vice Ic roi! — vive le rui!'^ Fanfares 
 of trumpets and the clash of cymbals succeeded, and Henri, fully 
 and magnificently armed, entered into the arena. He was attended 
 by the Marquis de Villequier, Saint Luc, and a courtly throng. 
 The royal charger (a snowy Arabian) was caparisoned with sweep- 
 ing bardes of crimson velvet, — 
 
 Toutes chargees do riclie orpliaverie, 
 
 and figured with golden fleurs-de-lys. Courteously saluting the 
 Scot, and bidding him prepare for the signal of the combat, which 
 would be shortly given, Henri directed his course towards the 
 
THE LISTS. 235 
 
 grand gallery, and addressing Esclairmonde, solicited a favour at 
 her hands, that he might break a lance in her behalf. Unable to 
 refuse his request, Esclairmonde took a string of pearls from her 
 rich auburn tresses, and despatched it to the monarch by a pa^"fG. 
 Acknowledging the boon with a smile of gratification, and passing 
 many well-turned compliments upon her charms, Henri proceeded 
 to hold a brief conference witli the Due de Nevers. 
 
 Crlchton, meantime, rode into the pavilion appropriated to his 
 attendants ; the hangings of winch were closely drawn after him. 
 Dismounting from his steed, he was presently joined by tlie Vicomte 
 de Joyeuse, Montjoie, and Pierre de Gondi, by the latter of wliom 
 the customary oaths of the combat were administered. Kissing tlie 
 crucifix and the Te igihir, the Scot next submitted himself to his 
 armourer, who riveted upon Ills cuirass a placcate of sliinlng steel, 
 similar to that borne by Gonzaga. Being tlius fully equipped for 
 the fight, notwithstanding the increased weiglit of his armour, he 
 vaulted into the saddle without the aid of tlie stirrup; and takin*"" 
 Ills lance from Ills esquire, awaited the signal for the combat. 
 
 Henri liaving by this time taken Ills scat beneatli the canopy, 
 gave with lils baton a signal to INIontjoie, the king-nt-arms, who, 
 attended by two lieralds, advanced, amidst a flourish of clarions 
 and hautboy's, towards the centre of the arena ; and, commanding 
 silence, proclaimed in a loud voice the names and titles of the ap- 
 pellant and the defendant, together with their cause of quarrel, 
 prohibiting all persons whatsoever from ofiering interruption, 
 by word or sign, to the combat. Fresh fanfares of trumpets 
 succeeded this ceremonial, during which all eves had been 
 fixed upon Ruggieri, who, though pale as death, maintained a 
 composed and resolute demeanour, ever and anon stealing a glance 
 towards the gallery, in which sat the queen-mother. Silence being 
 once more restored, INIontjoie cried aloud, " Faitcs vos devoirs, che- 
 valiers ^ 
 
 On the third call, the curtains of the pavilions were swiftly drawn 
 aside, and both knights issued forth, each taking up a position at 
 the right of the barriers. Esclairmonde's bosom palpitated with 
 emotion as she beheld the stately figure of her lover cased in steel 
 thus suddenly set before her, and recognised her own gage upon ids 
 lance's point. Any fears she might have entertained for his safety 
 vanished in his presence; and with a heart throbbing with expec- 
 tation, she heard the first blast of the clarion sound for the hostile 
 career. A profound hush now reigned throughout the assemblage. 
 Even the royal tenants of the gallery rose and advanced towards 
 its edge, and Marguerite de Valois, disregarding Montjoie's injunc- 
 tion, leaned over the side of the balcony and waved her hand. 
 Crlchton perceived the action ; and, unable otherwise to account 
 for it, attributed it to some return of tenderness on the part of the 
 impassioned queen. Again the trumpet sounded, and as the blast 
 was blown, Crlchton struck his spurs into his steed, executing a 
 iemi-volte to the right, while he slightly raised his lance in the air» 
 
236 CRICHTON. 
 
 bringing tlie truncheon within a few inches o{ his thigh, in readi- 
 ness for the career. In this action were displayed the unequalled 
 grace and dexterity in tlie management of" his steed, for which the 
 Scot was so eminently distinguished. The martial notes of the 
 clarion now resounded for the third time, and hurling a gauntlet 
 to the ground, jMontjoie shouted in a voice of thunder, " Laissez- 
 les aller — luissez-les dUer." 
 
 Swift as bolt from cloud, Crichton, at this signal, speeded from 
 his post. As the steed started on his rapid career, the Scot. 
 quick as thought, raised the truncheon of his lance to a level with 
 liis line of vision, and then firmly fixing it in its rest, declined its 
 point towards the left ear of his charger as he approached witliin 
 some half-dozen paces of his adversary, and directed his aim against 
 the upper part of his helm. Both lances were shivered as the 
 champions met in mid career. Gonzaga's mark had been the same 
 as that of his antagonist, but the point of his lance glanced from the 
 sharp gorget of the plastron ; while the blow of Crichton, taking 
 place upon the crest of the prince, carried ofl' the panache with 
 which it was surmounted, and scattered the plumes far and wide 
 over the field. Neither, however, had been dismounted; and as 
 each knight gracefully brought his steed to a rest, and hurled away 
 the truncheon of his broken lance, he opened his gauntlet to show 
 that he had sustained no injury from the encounter. 
 
 Snatcliing fresh lances from the attendants, the combatants again 
 started on a new career. In this second attaint, the advantage was 
 decidedly in favour of the Scot; his lance striking his adversary's 
 visor, and staggering him so much, that he could with difficulty 
 rein in his charger. Notwithstanding the shock he had sustained, 
 the prince seized a sharp-pointed lance from his esquire, and bidding 
 a pursuivant communicate his intentions to his opponent, prepared 
 for the final course. 
 
 The excitement of the spectators was now raised to the highest 
 pitch. On the issue of this trial depended the fate of the accused, 
 and the movements of the combatants were watched with intense 
 interest. For the third time they started upon their career. Upon 
 this occasion the steel edge of Gonzaga's lance drew sparkles from 
 the beaver of the Scot, as it came in contact with his helm; but 
 the blow, though well directed, could not shake the firm horseman 
 in his saddle. Not so was it with Gonzaga. The stroke of Crich- 
 ton, into which he had thrown all his force, was dealt with such 
 resolution upon the visor of Vinconzo, that, unable to resist its 
 violence, and still maintaining his hold of the bridle, horse and rider 
 were hurled backwards upon the dust. 
 
 Instantly recovering his feet, and unclasping his visor, with a 
 countenance flushed with shame and fury, the prince walked across 
 the lists to the tribunal of the judges, and claimed, in a haughty 
 tone, to be allowed the privilege of the combat with the sword. 
 This request was peremptorily refused, but Crichton, riding up at 
 the same moment, generously seconded his adversary's request, and 
 
THE LISTS. 237 
 
 refusinf; to consider the triumph he had obtained as decisive, Mont- 
 joie's objections were overruled, and the combatants retired to 
 renew their conflict with different weapons. The cheers, mean- 
 while, from the lookers-on, were almost stunning; and the courtesy 
 of the Scot was on all liands loudly applauded. 
 
 Crichton now withdrew to the pavilion, where his armourer 
 unbraced liis haute-piece, and furnished liini with another and 
 lighter morion of Damascus steel, crested with a tall cluster of white 
 feathers. A long estoc was girt to his side, and to the pummel of 
 his saddle was fastened a keen, well-tempered miscricorde. Thus 
 accoutred, ho mounted a light agile barb, sent to him by the 
 Vicomte de .Toycuse, as being fitter for the rapid and furious pas- 
 sades he would now have to perform, than his own charger, and 
 returned to the lists " dim gentemeiit ferant de Vesperony 
 
 INIeanwhilc, tlie barriers traversing the arena had been re- 
 moved, and the space was left vacant for the combat. As the Scot 
 passed through the outer pales, his visor was raised, and he cast a 
 look towards the gallery in which Esclairmonde was seated. The 
 princess rose as he appeared, and gracefully saluted him. Crichton 
 returned her greeting, and unsheathing his sword, kissed the hilt 
 as if vowing to draw it in her name. The action was not un- 
 observed by Marguerite de Valois, over whose countenance came 
 a sudden and fearful change. The Vicomte de Joyeuse on the one 
 hand, and the Due de Nevers on the other, had in the interim 
 marked out upon the sand of the tilt-yard a circular space, within 
 the limits of which it was necessary that the combatants should 
 keep. Armed in all respects like his antagonist, and similarly 
 mounted, Gonzaga now rode into the lists. Making a motion to 
 the Due de Nevers that he desired an instant's speech of the Cheva- 
 lier Crichton, apart from their parrains, he rode towiu'ds the Scot, 
 who sheathed his sword as he drew nigh, and advanced to meet 
 him. This proceeding on the part of the prince was Avatched with 
 great anxiety by the spectators, who were apprehensive lest they 
 should lose the most interesting part of the anticipated spectacle. 
 Their doubts, however, were quickly relieved on noting the impe- 
 rious gestures of Gonzaga, and the corresponding haughtiness with 
 which they were received by his adversary. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said the prince, in a deep, low tone, " I 
 am aware that by the laws of arms I am already vanquished, and 
 not more so by your address than by your generosity. So much 
 am I beholden to you for the opportunity you have afforded me of 
 redeeming my honour, that I would evince my sense of your high 
 and chivalrous conduct by the proffer of my friendship, if you 
 will accept it in lieu of doing battle upon a quarrel which, methinks, 
 might be easily adjusted." 
 
 " Prince of Mantua," replied Crichton, courteously, " I should 
 be proud to accept your friendship if I could do so without im- 
 peachment of my honour. But it may not be. I have denounced 
 
238 crjcriTON 
 
 Ruggieri as false and perjured; an enemy of God, and a traitor to 
 his king. You liave falsi (led my charge — and I must make good 
 the accusation witli my sword." 
 
 " Enough," replied the prince, haughtily; " once and again, I 
 thank you. You have now liberated me from the weight of obliga- 
 tion under which my spirit laboured. The combat which ensues 
 must be a duel to the death. Your generosity might have restrained 
 my arm. It is now free to strike — and, by Saint Paul, I charge 
 you to look well to yourself" 
 
 "To your post, then, prince," replied Crichton, sternly; "and 
 by the aid of God, our Lady, and Saint Andrew the good knight, 
 I will approve Avith my body against your body the justice of my 
 quarrel." 
 
 So saying, with a proud salutation, he closed the visor of his 
 helm, and backed his charger till he brought him in a line with 
 the Vicomte de Joyeuse, while Gonzaga, turning his horse's head, 
 rejoined his sponsor and second, the Due de Nevers. 
 
 After some little further delay, the combatants, placed about 
 forty paces asunder, awaited with rapier drawn and beaver up the 
 fulfilment of the trumpeter's devoir. As the third charge was 
 sounded, grasping the rein firmly with his left hand, plunging his 
 spurs up to the rowel in the flanks of his steed, and raising his 
 sword-arm in the air, each champion dashed furiously against the 
 other, dealing, as he passed him, a mandritta, or blow from right 
 to left, on his antagonist's casque, and then wheeling suddenly 
 round, performed a demi-volte with curvets, and returning with the 
 same fury as before, reiterated his stroke. Upon the third en- 
 counter, executing a shorter demi-volte, Crichton turned sharply 
 round and faced his assailant. Continuing their curvets and 
 voltes, each cliampion then discharged a succession of imbrocatas 
 and rivcrsas upon his enemy's morion and breastplate. No attempt 
 on either ade, on the onset, appeared to be made to ward off those 
 blows, but on the third volte, Crichton directed a heavy stramazone 
 (or cutting blow) against Gonzaga's crest. The prince raised his 
 estoc to beat away the blov/, but the weapon flew from his grasp, 
 and so terrible was the stroke, that Crichton's own blade shivered 
 to the hilt. Plucking his dagger from its sheath, and grasping it 
 in his right hand, each now spurred his steed close to that of his 
 antagonist. Accustomed to this species of encounter, the animals 
 stood stock still. Crichton then grasped the left hand of his enemy, 
 and a deadly struggle ensued. 
 
 It was evident to the spectators that a few more blows would 
 now decide the conflict, and their interest rose in proportion. Not 
 a breath was drawn. Esclairmonde leaned over the balcony with 
 a look as if her own life hung upon that of her lover. Nor could 
 Catherine de Medicis, whose cause was leagued with that of the 
 opposite party, control her anxiety. At this moment, a voice soft 
 and low, in whose tones, altered as they were by passion, she yet 
 
TIIK LISTS. 239 
 
 recognised those of Marguerite de Valois, reached the ear of 
 the Princess of Conde. 
 
 " I would give my soul to perdition," said the Queen of Navarre, 
 " to see the poignard of Gonzaga pierce the heart of his enemy." 
 
 " For pity's sake — wherefore ?" asked the princess, without re- 
 moving her gaze from the combatants. 
 
 '* To be avenged of thee," answered Marguerite, in a hollow voice. 
 
 " Gracious heaven !" exclaimed the princess, " thy horrible wish 
 is accomplished — he falls — he falls." 
 
 In the struggle it appeared that the dagger of the prince, glan- 
 cing from the corslet of the Scot, had dangerously wounded the 
 steed of the latter in the neck. The blood gushed in torrents from 
 the deep gash, and the horse reeled with faintness. Pursuing an 
 advantage obtained contrary to the laws of the combat, Avhich for- 
 bade hurt to be done to the charger, Gonzaga threw himself furi- 
 ously upon his antagonist, endeavouring to drive him beyond the 
 boundary described upon tlie arena ; but Crichton, feeling his steed 
 totter under him, avoided the blow by leaning backwards ; and 
 disengaging at the same moment his feet from the stirrup, leapt to 
 the ground, and ere the prince could regain his balance, seized him 
 by the arm, and dragged him from the saddle. 
 
 The conflict was now continued on foot. Blow after blow was 
 dealt upon helm and cuirass. The tilt-yard rang like the forge of 
 an armourer. Hacked off by the trenchant edges of the poignards, 
 chips of the gold embossments and enamel strewed the arena, pro- 
 mising a rich, harvest to the heralds. Gonzaga displayed all the 
 address of a finished man-at-arms. In strength he was evidently 
 inferior to his antagonist, but so expert was he in the use of the 
 dagger, so dexterous in avoiding foyns and thrusts which must have 
 proved fatal, had they taken eflcct, that the spectators felt doubtful 
 as to the issue of the strife. At length, the poignard of Crichton, 
 driven through the vantbrace of the prince, but without inflicting 
 more than a trifling scratcli, snapped in twain, and he appeared at 
 the mercy of his opponent. Kuggleri lifted up his hands, and 
 uttered an exclamation of joy. 
 
 " Now Heaven be praised !" cried Catherine de Medicis, " the 
 right will triumph." 
 
 " He is not yet vanquished, madam," exclaimed Esclairmonde, 
 " and trust me, the right tvill triumph." 
 
 As she spoke, the prince advanced his dagger's point to the throat 
 of Crichton, and glancing at him through the bars of his visor, 
 commanded him to yield. 
 
 " Yield," replied Crichton, fiercely, " it is a v/ord I have never 
 pronounced. Let this decide the combat." 
 
 And, with the broken blade of his poignard he delivered so 
 terrible a blow upon the morion of the prince, that head and 
 casque appeared to be crushed by it. Gonzaga fell without ea-w 
 or motion ; a stream of gore flowing from out his visor. 
 
240 ciiicnxoN. 
 
 •' Yield, prince," exclaimed Crichton, stooping over him. and 
 snatching the dagger from his loosened grasp, " or by Saint 
 Andrew ! you have breatlied your last." 
 
 But Gonzaga answered not. 
 
 At this moment tlie Due de Nevers and the Vicomte de Joyeuse, 
 followed by Montjoie and his attendant, spurred their horses to the 
 spot. 
 
 " Tlie victory is yours, Chevalier Crichton ; slay him not," 
 cried the duke, flinging himself from his steed. " Ha !" exclaimed 
 he, as he regarded the motionless form of the prince, " you have 
 destroyed the hopes of my brother of Mantua. By Saint Francis ! 
 you shall answer for the deed." 
 
 " If the prince is slain, he hath perished in the quarrel he him- 
 self provoked," replied Crichton, sternly; " to yourself, my lord, or 
 to others of his house, I will answer for what I have done." 
 
 " The prince, your nephew, has been fairly vanquished, my 
 lord," said Joyeuse; " and the only felon stroke dealt during the 
 combat, was that by which yon bleeding charger was wounded." 
 
 " And that was accidental," said Crichton. 
 
 By this time tlie attendants had unclasped Vincenzo's helmet, 
 and though stunned and wounded by the concussion, his life was 
 evidently not in danger. Satisfied with this examination, the duke 
 became eager in his apologies to the Scot for the impatience he 
 had exhibited; and his excuses being courteously accepted, ho 
 next directed his followers to remove the senseless body of the 
 prince from the field. While this took place amid the shouts of 
 the spectators, and a loud flourish of trumpets, Crichton proceeded 
 to the canopy occupied by the king, and prostrated himself before 
 him. Henri greeted him with a smile, and raising him from 
 the ground, passed many encomiums upon the bravery he luid 
 displayed. 
 
 " You have approved yourself a loyal and valiant knight. Che- 
 valier Crichton," he said, " and have fully established the truth of the 
 charge you brought yesternight against the traitor Ruggleri, whose 
 guilt admits of no further justification. Quia tiunsivit in rent 
 judicutuin, et judical uni debet invioUibiliter observari, as is appointed 
 by the ordinance of our predecessor, the good King Philippe le Bel, 
 respecting the judicial combat. Par la Mort Dieu! the Place de 
 Greve shall blaze tliis night with his funeral pyre. Let him be 
 removed to the Chatelet, and see whether the question will extract 
 the truth from his lips." 
 
 " My gracious liege," said Crichton, " I crave a boon at your 
 hands." 
 
 " Name it," replied the king; " if it refer not to one whom 
 we will not name, it is yours ere asked." 
 
 " Let the punishment to which you have condemned the traitor 
 uggieri be commuted into perpetual exile." 
 
THE LISTS. 241 
 
 ** Do I hear you rightly?" asked Henri, in surprise. 
 
 " Grant me his life, sire, upon the terms I shall propose to him," 
 continued Crichton. 
 
 " He is in your hands — deal with him as you see fitting," re- 
 turned Henri. " Bring hither the traitor," he added, speaking to 
 his attendants, " and let him now be confronted with his accuser." 
 
 And half dead with terror, the astrologer was dragged by his 
 hooded attendants into the king's presence, amid the execrations of 
 the spectators. 
 
 *' Cosmo Ruggieri, thy guilt is fully approved," said Herri, 
 sternly; " thy sentence, whether of death or banishment, rests with 
 the Chevalier Crichton. It is witli him to pronounce thy doom. 
 Down on thy knees, miscreant, and sue for grace. To me thou 
 pleadest in vain." 
 
 Crichton approached the astrologer, who cast himself abjectly at 
 his feet, embracing his knees, and striving to move liis compassion 
 witli Hoods of tears. " Mercy," he cried, in a piteous tone. 
 
 " Thou wilt find none, unless thou provest obedient," replied 
 Crichton; •' arise, and listen to me." And as Ruggieri obeyed, 
 Crichton whispered in his ear the conditions upon which he might 
 iOok for clemency. The astrologer started and trembled. 
 
 " I dare not," he said, after a moment's pause, during which he 
 stole a troubled glance towards the gallery. 
 
 " To the rack with him," said Crichton. 
 
 The hooded olllcials instantly darted upon him like kites upon 
 carcase. 
 
 " Hold ! — hold !" cried Ruggieri; " I cannot brave that dreadful 
 engine. I will do as you command me." 
 
 " Take him hence, then," commanded Crichton, " and let him 
 remain with a sufficient guard within my pavilion until after the 
 tourney." 
 
 " Your own lives shall answer for him," added Henri, as the astro- 
 loger was removed; " and now,mo7i c/ier Crichton," he added, "if 
 you would effect the liberation of a captive princess from an en- 
 chanted castle, in which she is detained by magic arts, haste and 
 equip yourself in fresh armour. Joyeuse will find you another 
 steed in lieu of the one slain by the felon blow of your antagonist. 
 Away, arm yourself, and join our ranks. And now, messeigneurs, 
 for the Chatel de la Joyeuse Garde ! What, ho ! Du Halde — my 
 horse — my gallant Papillon." 
 
 Crichton joyfully departed to array himself for this new en- 
 counter; while the king, mounting his snow-white Arabian, pro- 
 ceeded to superintend the preparations for tlie grand estour. As he 
 rode across the arena, a billet was presented to him by a page in 
 the livery of Catherine de Medicis. Henri knit his brow as he 
 perused it. 
 
 *' Peste !" he muttered, " am I ever to be a puppet in my mother's 
 hands? — By Saint Louis ! this shall never be. And yet, all things 
 
 K 
 
242 CRICIITOX. 
 
 considered, it may be better to concede this trifle. Du Halde,'* 
 he added, beckoning to the chief valet, and speaking in an under 
 tone — " get thee to Orichton's pavilion, and contrive some means 
 for Ruggieri's instant escape. We desire not to be known in this 
 matter. — Thou understandest — about it quickly." 
 
 Du Halde departed on his mission, and Henri, turning to his 
 courtiers, with a smile that but ill-concealed his monification, said, 
 " It is our mother's pleasure, messeigneurs, that the grand melee be 
 deferred till night. The defence of the chatel will, therefore, take 
 place, as at first designed, by torchlight. Joyeuse, do thou give 
 orders to this effect. Her majesty hath desired instant speech 
 with us — on affairs of state," he added, in a sarcastic tone, " we 
 presume — no matter — after our conference, which we shall cer- 
 tainly not prolong, it is our intention to essay a course with this 
 preux Scottish knight, in honour of our fair Queen of the Lists." 
 
 With this, the monarch pressed forward, and dismounting from 
 his charger, entered the royal gallery. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PAVILION. 
 
 La reine vouloit persuader que ce pauvre prince, son lils, avoit conspire', afia 
 de le rendre odieux a chacun. 
 
 Henri Etienne. Discours Merveilleux. 
 
 When the armourer had completed his office, and Crichton, 
 attired in a magnificent suit of russet-coloured mail sent him by 
 the Vicomte de Joyeuse, was about to place his plumed casque 
 upon his brow and return to the tilt-yard, a page in the royal 
 livery suddenly appeared at the entrance of the pavilion, and an- 
 nounced the queen-mother. Ere the Scot could recover from the 
 astonishment into which he was thrown by this unlooked-for visit, 
 Catherine stood before him. 
 
 " My presence occasions you surprise, messire," said the queen, 
 with a gracious salutation, which Crichton haughtily returned, 
 ** nor will that surprise be diminished when you learn the motive 
 that has brought us hither." 
 
 " To whatever motive I must attribute your majesty's present 
 condescension," returned Crichton, coldly, *' lam well aware, from 
 your smiles, that some new danger is to be apprehended." 
 
 " You wrong me by your doubts, Chevalier Crichton," rejoined 
 Catherine, in a tone of great courtesy, and apparent candour ; "my 
 enmity to you exists no longer. In vanquishing Gonzaga you have 
 vanquished me. I am here to acknowledge my defeat; and I am 
 assured that your nature is too chivalrous to refuse mercy to a 
 prostrate i^e.^^ 
 
 " Your majesty forgets our interview last night," said Crichton, 
 
THE PAVILION. 243 
 
 regarding the queen distrustfully, " and the Machiavelian pre- 
 cepts with which you unintentionally favoured me. Need I re- 
 mind you that ' words are the cloak 'ncath which the sword is 
 hidden ;' need I add, that under your present fair professions, I dis- 
 cern a dark and deadly purpose. Your majesty is no prostrate foe. 
 And it is for me — not for yourself — to sue for clemency." 
 
 " You have nothing more to apprehend from me, mcssire," said 
 Catherine, a slight shade passing across her majestic features, " unless, 
 indeed, you wantonly provoke my resentment. I pledge my royal 
 word, tliat I am come hither to confer with you in amity." 
 
 " That royal word was plighted to the hrave and trusting 
 Coligni," rejoined Crichton; "how it was kept, the gory gibbet of 
 Montfaucon best can answer." 
 
 " Grant me patience, heaven !" exclaimed Catherine, in an altered 
 voice — "you will not then accept my assurance of friendship?" 
 
 " No, by the Saint Barthelemi, madam," answered Crichton, 
 sternly. 
 
 Catherine's quivering lip proclaimed the struggle she underwent 
 to repress her almost uncontrollable indignation. Skilled, however, 
 in the mastery of her emotions, she did instantaneously repress it; 
 and waving her hand to the attendants, who had withdrawn to the 
 outlet of the tent at her approach, she was left alone with the 
 Scot. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," slie said, in a deep low tone, " you are 
 brave — but your bravery amounts to folly. Of what avail are these 
 idle taunts? — We understand each other." 
 
 " We do, madam," replied the Scot. 
 
 " And witli this understanding, Avhy should we not act in unison? 
 Our interests require it. As friend or foe our purposes are so indis- 
 solubly connected, that to separate one were to destroy the other. 
 So far you have succeeded. You are in a position to make terms with 
 me. Propose them. Let not your ambition dread too high a flight. 
 You have boasted that your ancestry is noble — regal — " 
 
 " The blood of the Stuart flows in my veins," said Crichton, 
 proudly. 
 
 " If I have heard aright, your sire is — " 
 
 " Sir Robert Crichton, my father, is sole advocate to James ot 
 Scotland," interrupted Crichton ; " our religious opinions are at 
 variance, or I had never quitted my native land." 
 
 " You did ill to leave it in its season of calamity," said Catherine, 
 " a prey to heresy and rebellion. One hand like yours, one voice 
 potent as your own, might have availed to check, if not avert, this 
 widely devastating storm. Your energies would, indeed, have been 
 beneficially displayed in crushing that serpent brood which the per- 
 nicious zeal of the fanatic Knox has called into life. Had the 
 tocsin of Saint Barthelemi been rung from the towers of Edinburgh 
 Castle ; had our gentle daughter ]\lary dealt with her ruthless foes 
 as we have dealt with the enemies of our faith, she would not now 
 
 £2 
 
244 CKICUTOX. 
 
 have been a captive to Elizabeth. Chevalier Crichton, your lovely 
 queen weeps away her hours in prison. It should have been your 
 aim, as faithful Catholic, and loyal subject, to have effected her 
 liberation." 
 
 " You have, unwittingly, touched upon a chord that vibrates 
 through my heart, madam," said the Scot, his colour mounting, and 
 his glances kindling as he spoke. " To rescue my beloved queen from 
 her oppressors, I would willingly lay down my life — nay, a thou- 
 sand lives, if I possessed them ! If her guard were thrice in 
 number what it is — her prison yet more inaccessible — if she were 
 lodged within the palace of her rival — or immured in London's 
 impregnable tower, 1 would accomplish her deliverance, or perish 
 in the attempt, did not an awful bar prevent me." 
 
 " What bar?" demanded Catherine, with some appearance of 
 curiosity. 
 
 " A father's malediction !" replied Crichton, with a sudden 
 change of tone. " Your majesty has spoken of the devastation which 
 heresy has spread throughout my unhappy land. Her temples 
 have been desecrated — the fire that burnt upon her ancient altars 
 has been extinguished; her reverend priests have been driven forth 
 — but this is not all. Into the bosom of her families these new- 
 doctrines have brought fierce and bitter dissension. Irrcconcileable 
 hatred has sprung up where love before existed. My sire (alas ! that 
 it should be so) has embraced the reformed Faith. I have re- 
 mained constant to the creed of my ancestry — to the creed of my 
 conviction ; and in behalf of that rehgion in the cause of my in- 
 jured queen, I should have taken up arms, when I was of years to 
 bear them, had not my sire placed between my sword and the 
 hand that would have grasped it — his curse ! With a father's 
 malediction hanging over my head, I could not hope for success. 
 Without a struggle 1 resigned the first, the dearest wish of my 
 dawning life. In vain were prospects of ambition, clouded with 
 heresy, and stained by rebeUion, opened to me. In vain were 
 profi'ers made me by those who would have purchased my services. 
 I left my country, for whose weal I would have gladly bled — I 
 quitted my paternal halls, to which a thousand tender recollections 
 bound me — I vowed never to return to that country — never again 
 to behold that home, till the schism of the one should be annihi- 
 lated — the old rites of worship, once observed by the other, re- 
 stored." 
 
 " You will never then see Scotland more," said Catherine; " she 
 will chng to her false faith, as a libertine to the leman whose arts 
 have ensnared him." 
 
 " Or, as her preachers affirm," rejoined Crichton, in a tone of 
 scorn, "she is like the profligate who has abandoned the mis- 
 tress, and assumed the wife. But your majesty is right. Scotland 
 will know no change. The homely creed she has adopted suits 
 her homely people well. Austere in feeling as in manner, they 
 
THE PAVILION, 245 
 
 will become hardened in heresy. The dogma promulgated by 
 Knox — plehis est religiotiem refnrmare roused the whole nation. The 
 people have reformed their faith — and their creed is essentially 
 plebeian. Stripped of its ornaments ; robbed of its majesty and 
 grace ; its magnificent proportions, sculptured and reared by ages, 
 destroyed ; its venerable and hoary colouring, which time alone 
 could impart, effaced ; its odours scattered to the breezes ; its tra- 
 ditions forgotten or despised ; the worship of my country simple, 
 naked, and, it may be, pure, no more resembles its ancient 
 grandeur and sublimity, than the lowly temple of the Huguenot 
 will bear comparison with the glorious edifice of Notre-Dame. A 
 cathedral is religion, ^yho can enter its reverend aisles unmoved 
 — who can gaze upwards to its vaulted roofs with thoughts that 
 stray not heavenward ! Mine be the antique fane — mine the time- 
 honoured creed. Mine be the saint, the shrine, the solemn and 
 melodious mass — mine the faith picturesque, poetical, beautiful. 
 My native land I may never beliold again — my father's blessing I 
 may never receive — but the religion of Rome, entwined around 
 my heart, endeared to me even by persecution, I will ever main- 
 tarn. 
 
 " I applaud your zeal, messirc," said Catherine. " To the brave 
 man the soil he treads is his country. Be France the land of your 
 adoption. Her faith is yet unchanged. Heaven grant it may 
 continue so ! The storm we have swept away is again gathering 
 with increased power and fury. Lend us your assistance to dispel 
 It — to uphold tlie religion so dear to you. In the reign of the 
 Seventh Charles, v.'ho swayed the sceptre of this fair kingdom, 
 one of your countrymen was, for his bravery displayed in the 
 well-fought field of Bcauge, in Anjou, when the royal Clarence 
 fell by his hand, created Constable of France — why should not a 
 like dignity be yours ?" 
 
 " Were such unhoped-for distinction mine, madam," said 
 Crichton, smiling, " I should not be the first of my line who has 
 been similarly graced. The valiant Earl of Buchan, the country- 
 man to whom your majesty refers, by whose proud achievement 
 the field of Beauge was won, and by whom the baton of Fiance 
 was thenceforth borne, Avas (1 hesitate not to proclaim it) my an- 
 cestor." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the wily queen, w'ith well- feigned surprise. 
 *' Valour it seems is your inheritance. I rejoice to learn that 
 you are a descendant of bold John of Buchan, whose chivalrous 
 deeds my consort Henri II. has so often rehearsed to me. Why, 
 I again ask, should you not tread in the steps of your ancestor? 
 Wiiy should not your hand grasp the marshal's baton ? Why 
 should not your voice lead on the chivalry of France to con- 
 quest ? Wiry should not your vigilance maintain her ancient faith 
 unsullied ?" 
 
246 CRICHTOX. 
 
 CricKton returned no answer. His countenance glowed and his 
 frame dilated, as Catherine, not insensible of the impression she 
 had produced, continued — " Why should you not aspire to the 
 hand of the fairest princess of her time? Why should not tlic lovely 
 Esclairinonde be yours ?" 
 
 "No more, I pray you, madam — tempt me not." 
 
 " Graced witli the rank of marshal — allied to tlie royal house of 
 Conde — enriched with the dowry which your bride will bring — 
 would not even your ambition be contented ?" 
 
 " Even in my wildest dreams my aspirations never soared so 
 high," ejaculated Crlchton — " A marslial of France !" 
 
 " Her leader !'' said Catherine. 
 
 "That baton in my grasp which Bcrtrand du Gucsclin, Olivier 
 de Cllsson, and the brave Boucicart bore — which Gaston de Foix, 
 Brissac, and Montmorency Avlelded — that baton mine !" 
 
 " The legions of France beneath your command," added Cathe- 
 rine. 
 
 "Her legions!" echoed Crlchton — "ha! Saint Andrew! I 
 see them rise round me ! I see her fierce and fiery bands pour like 
 a tide upon the plain. I see her chivalry arrayed before me — that 
 peerless chivalry which Bayard led — ha! INIontjoie! St. Denis — 
 methinks I hear the battle-cry." 
 
 " Be Bayard's fortune yours." 
 
 "Bayard was reproachless, madam," returned the Scot, the 
 glow which had lighted up his features suddenly fading away; 
 " the name of Crlchton shall be equally so." 
 
 " Your name shall not be stained, messire," said Catherine, im- 
 patiently; " but in your dreams of ambition you have forgotten — 
 what we should least have expected you to forget — your tender 
 aspirations." 
 
 " Esclairmonde !" exclaimed Crlchton. 
 
 " Say rather the Princess of Conde," rejoined Catherine, " for 
 her rank Avill speedily be acknowledged." 
 
 "Will you acknowledge it, madam?" demanded Crlchton, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " At my own pleasure," returned the queen, coldly. " Question 
 not — but listen. The baton of France — the hand of the Princess 
 of Conde are yours — on certain conditions." 
 
 " Hell hath her compacts," muttered Crlchton; " and men have 
 bartered their eternal weal for lighter offers. Your conditions, 
 madam ?" 
 
 " Have I your knightly word, that whether or not you accept 
 the terms I am about to propose, your lips shall reveal no syllable 
 I may utter ?" 
 
 Crlchton appeared lost in reflection. 
 
 " Have I your word?" repeated Catherine. 
 
 " You have, madam," returned the Scot. 
 
THE PAVILION. 247 
 
 " J trust you with my life, then — for I am well assured, that 
 once plighted, you will not break that word." 
 
 " Your majesty may speak as to your confessor " 
 
 "My confessor!" echoed Catherine, derisively. "Think you 
 I would intrust a secret — the betrayal of which would fill our 
 city of Paris with scaffolds, — would float her streets with blood, — 
 would crowd the dungeons of her Bastile, and the oubliettes of her 
 Chiitelets with noble prisoners, to a crafty priest. No ! there are 
 secrets which must not even be breathed to heaven. Ours is one 
 of them." 
 
 " And crimes too deep to be forgiven," said Crichton, gloomily. 
 — " Heaven grant your majesty propose not such." 
 
 " Be patient, messirc," returned the queen, " and you shall hear 
 what I do propose. You are already (no matter how !) in posses- 
 sion of iny plans. I need not, tlicrefbre, tell you of my project 
 for Henri's dethronement — of my scheme to place his crown upon 
 the Due d'Anjou's head." 
 
 " Tims much I know, madam," said Crichton. 
 
 " But you arc not aware," continued Catherine, approaching 
 more nearly to the Scot, and lowering her tone, " that Anjon is 
 now in Paris." 
 
 " Within this city ? — ha !"' 
 
 " Within the Louvre — within the palace soon to be his oAvn." 
 
 " Great heaven !" 
 
 " Bussy d'Amboise, his favourite, has this morning arrived 
 from Flanders. All goes well for us. We have the gold of Spain 
 — the swords of Switzerland and Scotland — for the guards are ou?-.?. 
 Our thousand agents, our spies and emissaries are at Avork. They 
 thread each quarter of the city. Our partisans collect together, 
 and only await the signal to declare themselves. That signal will 
 be given to-ni£;ht." 
 
 " So soon !" 
 
 " Ay, so soon," reiterated Catherine, triumphantly. " Nostra- 
 damus foretold that all my sons should be kings. To-morrow his 
 prediction will be verified." 
 
 " And Henri ?" 
 
 Catherine grew pale as death, and trembled so violently that she 
 was compelled to lay her hand for support upon Crichton's armed 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What of the king, your son, madam ?" continued the Scot, sternly. 
 
 " Of all my sons," exclaimed the queen, with a look of deep 
 agony, and it might be, compunction, " Henri hath ever been the 
 most dear to me. The sickly rran9ois, the rugged Charles, found 
 no place in my heart. But "Henri, the fond, \hc pliant, the win- 
 ning; Henri, ever devoted, ever deferential to my will; Henri, the 
 OTaceful, the polished, the beautiful— whom nature intended lor a 
 king, and for whom I have seconded nature's intentions — he has 
 ever been my favourite." , 
 
248 CRICHTON. 
 
 " And you will now destroy your own work; you will sacrifice 
 your favourite son ?" 
 
 "My safety requires it," returned Catherine, sighing deeply; 
 *' Henri has of late grown wayward and capricious. He refuses to 
 follow my counsel — to acknowledge my sway. His minions have 
 supplanted me in his esteem. Saint-Luc, Joyeuse, D'Epenion 
 rule where I was wont to govern. The Salic law prevents the 
 exercise of sovereign authority in my own person. I reign 
 through my sons: if not through Henri, I must reign through 
 Francois." 
 
 " Weighed against love of power, a mother's love is nothing," 
 said Crichton. 
 
 " Against high resolves it should be nothing," returned Cathe- 
 rine; " against Fate it is nothing. Of what avail is my tenderness 
 for Henri; of what avail are my regrets for his defection, of what 
 avail is this hesitation to pronounce his doom ? Chevalier Crichton," 
 she continued, in a voice that froze the Scot's blood within his 
 veins, " he must die !" 
 
 There was a terrible pause, during which each regarded the other 
 €xedly. 
 
 " Horror !" exclaimed Crichton, at length recovering his speech ; 
 can a mother say this ?" 
 
 " Hear me !" cried Catherine, " and learn with whom you have 
 to deal — learn, and tremble ! By blood — my own blood, was my 
 power obtained; by blood — my own blood, must it be maintained. 
 Henri must die." 
 
 " By the hand that reared him ?" 
 
 " No ! mine might falter. I will find a surer arm to deal the 
 blow. Listen," she continued, becoming perfectly calm, *' by mid- 
 7iight all will be in readiness. Lender various pretexts, and in 
 various disguises, the leaders of Anjou's faction will, ere that hour 
 arrives, have been introduced into the Louvre. Bussy d'Amboise 
 has his own quarrel to avenge upon the king's favourites. His 
 sword hath seldom failed him. He will deal witli Joyeuse, D'Eper- 
 non, and Saint-Luc. The Due de Nevers is ours ah'eadv. Ville- 
 quier and D'O are vanes that will shift with the wind. Henri 
 alone remains — and he — " 
 
 " Well ! madam." 
 
 " Is reserved for your hand." 
 
 " For MINE !" 
 
 " I have prevailed upon him to defer the grand chivalrous 
 emprise in which he takes part till midnight. Amid the conflict 
 his lance will seek yours. Couch then your sharpened spear, — cry 
 * Live Francois HI.,' and strike ! I know too well the force of 
 your arm to doubt the fatal issue of the blow. That cry — that 
 deadly stroke, will be the signal to Anjou — and to our party. They 
 will respond to it. Henri's adherents will be exterminated — hia 
 «rown will be his brother's." 
 
I 
 
 THE PAVILION. 2^9 
 
 " From the scene of carnage you depict, madam," said Cricnton, 
 *• my mind flies back to days gone by — to the fair month of June, 
 1559. Before the palace of the Tournelles, a splendid tournament 
 is set forth to celebrate the nuptials of Elizabeth of France with 
 Philip of Spain. A chivalrous monarch maintains the passage of 
 arms against all comers. That monarch is your husband. That 
 monarch is Henri II." 
 
 " No more — no more." 
 
 *' That monarch demands a favour I'rom his queen. Her scarf 
 is sent him. He places it upon his corslet. He calls to the E.irl 
 of Montgomery to place his lance in rest. The earl obeys him. 
 The combatants rush upon each other. The lance of Montgomery 
 is broken — " 
 
 '■ Hold ! I command you, messire." 
 
 " But a splinter hath pierced the brain of the ill-fated king," 
 continued Crichton, heedless of Catherine's frowns. " He iidls 
 mortally wounded. You witnessed this fearful catastrophe, madam. 
 You saw your husband hurled bleeding to the earth — and to a like 
 fate you would now condenm your son — his sonT 
 
 " Have you yet done?" 
 
 " Think you I am an assassin, madam, that you propose to me 
 a deed from which even the ruthless bravo of your native Italy 
 would shrink aghast?" 
 
 " If I propose a deed dark and terrible, I offer a propor- 
 tionate reward," returned Catherine. "Stay!" she continued, 
 drawing from her escarcelle a small roll of parchment, to which a 
 broad seal Avas appended, *' here is your appointment." 
 
 "It bears date to-morrow." 
 
 " It will be ratified to-night," rejoined the queen, placing the 
 document upon a tapestry-covered table which stood beside them. 
 " Behold the royal signet — behold your title as Marshal of France ! 
 Your answer?" 
 
 " Is this," replied Crichton, suddenly drawing his poignard, and 
 striking it through the parchment with such force that all trace of 
 his name was effectually obliterated. 
 
 " Enough !" exclaimed Catherine, tearing the mutilated docu- 
 ment from the board. " You shall learn anon whose wrath you 
 have provoked." 
 
 " Threat for threat, madam," returned the undaunted Scot 
 *' You may find in me a formidable enemy." 
 
 " Ha !" ejaculated the queen, pausing, " you will not betray my 
 confidence? Your word is passed." 
 
 " It is," replied Crichton ; " but your majesty forgets that 
 Ruggieri is in my power." 
 
 Catherine smiled. 
 
 " Ruggieri will betray nothing," she said. 
 
 " He has sworn to reveal all, on condition that his life be spared," 
 returned Crichton. 
 
250 ClilCHTON. 
 
 Catherine's trow darkened for an instant; but tlie same sinister 
 emile still played around her lips. 
 
 "If my astrologer be your sole instrument of offence, messire," 
 she said, " I have httle to apprehend." 
 
 " Your majesty is confident," rejoined Crichton. " What, if I tell 
 you that the packet containing the proofs of the Princess Esclair- 
 monde's birth is found? — what if I add that your own letters to the 
 Due d'Anjou — your despatches to the Prince Vincenzo di Gonzaga 
 are now on their way to the king?" 
 
 " And if I answer — it is false ! — false as your assertion that 
 Ruggieri will betray me. That packet will never reach tlie king. 
 That packet is in my possession. The Huguenot preacher, who 
 was to have conveyed it to Henri, is my prisoner." 
 
 "The powers of darkness have not deserted your majesty, 1 per- 
 ceive," said Crichton, with a look of astonishment. 
 
 " Nor those of earth," retorted Catherine, clapping her hands. 
 " Let Ruggieri be brought before us," she added, as the attendants 
 appeared. 
 
 The men beti'ayed evident symptoms of alarm — and one of them 
 stammered out something hke an excuse. 
 
 " How is this?" demanded Crichton. " Have you dared to dis- 
 obey his majesty's commands? — have you suffered your prisoner to 
 escape?" 
 
 At tliis moment two of the hooded officials entered the pavilion. 
 "Where is the astrologer? — answer on your lives," said 
 Cricliton. 
 
 " We are come to seek him here, monseigneur," said the fore- 
 most of the twain. 
 
 " Here !" echoed Crichton, furiously. 
 
 "Yes, monseigneur," returned the man; "we had no sooner 
 placed him in the guard-room, than he disappeared; we know not 
 how or where — and we thought he was as likely to be here, as in 
 any other place." 
 
 " I recognise your hand in this, madam," said the Scot, turning 
 to Catherine. 
 
 The queen replied with a bitter smile: " The powers of dark- 
 ness have not yet deserted us, you perceive, messire." 
 
 " The other prisoner, however, is safe enough," said the foremost 
 official, as he drew back. 
 
 " What prisoner?" demanded Crichton, eagerly. 
 " The heretic preacher," returned the man; "he is at hand if 
 you wish to interrogate him." And without waiting for the Scot's 
 reply, he motioned to his comrade, who, in his turn, motioned to 
 some one without; and the curtain of the tent being drawn aside, 
 with his arms bound with cords, and his whole appearance betoken- 
 ing great personal suffering from ill usage, the venerable Florent 
 Chretien was dragged into the pavilion. 
 
 " His companion, the Englishman, escaped us," interposed the' 
 
THE PAVILION. 251 
 
 official, who acted as spokesman, "owing to a fiend in the form of 
 a doi,', with fangs hke a wolf, Avho fought by his side, and covered 
 his flight. But he cannot have passed the gates of the Louvre — 
 ind we may yet secure him." 
 
 Crichton was about to rush to the assistance of the captive 
 prcaclier to free him from his bondage. But a look from the old 
 man restrained him. 
 
 " It is in vain, my son," said Chretien ; " do not draw dov,-n 
 your blood likewise upon my head." 
 
 " The packet ?" demanded Crichton, with frantic eagerness ; 
 " say it has not fallen into the hands of this remorseless queen — say 
 you have given it to the Englishman Blount — say that he hastens 
 with it to the king — say there is yet hope." 
 
 " Alas! my son, why should I deceive you? My mission hath 
 faded. Our enemies triumph. Tiicy have pursued me sore. Like a 
 bird I have lixUcn into their snare. The precious casket hath been 
 stolen from me. There is no hope save from on high," 
 
 " Heaven will work no miracle in thy behalf, rank heretic that 
 thou art," said Catherine; " the populace, robbed of the spectacle 
 they anticipated in Ruggieri's execution by fire, will need a victim. 
 They sliall have one. The stake shall not have been planted, 
 nor the fagots piled witiiin the Prc-aux-clercs, in vain. Abjure 
 thine heresies, old man. Make thy peace above. Thy sentence is 
 pronounced." 
 
 " I desire no better end," replied Chretien; " my death shall be 
 a testimony to the faithful." 
 
 " Your fanatic zeal blinds you, good father," said Crichton; " for- 
 sake 3'^our errors while there is yet time." 
 
 " Forsake them !" echoed the preacher, with fervour ; " never ! 
 Flames may consume my breathing bod\'. Torture may rend my 
 limbs asunder. But my lips shall never gainsay my heart. For a 
 death like this, my whole life hath been a preparation. I am not 
 taken by surprise. My house is set in order. I shall glory in my 
 martyrdom. I shall rejoice to be numbered with the righteous, 
 who have perished in the service of their God. It is thou, my son, 
 who art in error. It is thou who art blinded and perverse. It is 
 thou who art in danger of unquenchable flame. Let my words dwell 
 with thee — let my spirit be upon thee. So shall I not die in 
 vain; so shall thy own end be happy — be joyful as mine. Thou 
 hast called me father — as a father I bestow my blessing upon 
 thee." 
 
 "As a father — oh God!" exclaimed Crichton, his eyes filling 
 with emotion, and his voice faltering. 
 
 " Kneel down, my son; an old man's benediction, whatever may 
 be his creed, cannot injure you."* 
 
 Crichton instantly threw himself at the preacher's feet. 
 
 * Tliesc, or nearly these words, were addressed by the Pope Benedict XIV. to 
 Horace Walpole. 
 
252 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Heaven's grace descend upon your head, my son,'' said Clir^ 
 tien, bendinfT over him; " and niav the dawnin^r of a new l:<;ht 
 from henceforth break upon your soul ! 
 
 " My soul will never swerve from its fixed bias," replied Crichton, 
 as he arose from the benediction. " I admire your constancy; but 
 my faith is changeless as your own. I shall be no apostate." 
 
 " Video meliora, piobuque, deteriora sequor,^' sighed the old man, 
 — " ah, my son, you are stubborn in unbelief. But my prayers will 
 not be unheard, and your name, together with that of one dear to 
 you as to myself, shall mingle with my latest breath. I shall expire 
 in the hope of your spiritual regeneration. For thee, perfidiouf 
 and bloody-minded woman," he continued, turning to Catherine, 
 and regarding her with a terrible look, " a day of dreadful retribu- 
 tion is at hand. Thy portion shall be that of the idolatrous Queen 
 of Judah. Evil shall be brought upon thee and shame. Thy pos- 
 terity shall be utterly taken away. With blood liast thou polluted 
 this city; and with thy own blood shall it be cleansed. ' Ven- 
 geance is mine,' saith the Lord, ' and I will repay.' " 
 
 "Peace, blasphemer," interrupted the queen, " and learn to thy 
 confusion, that if the arm of heaven hath been manifested at all, it 
 hath this day been declared in favour of the religion tliou deridest. 
 The leader upon whom the reliance of your m.iserable sect i& 
 placed — our chief enemy hath been delivered into our hands. Ha ! 
 thou tremblest — have I found a way to shake thy inflexible 
 spirit?" 
 
 " It cannot be 1" exclaimed Chretien, with a despairing look. 
 
 "It /5," returned Catherine, triumphantly; " we hold thy chief- 
 tain within our foils." 
 
 " Ah, fatal rashness!" cried Chretien, bitterly; " but I will not 
 murmur against the decrees of Providence. I pray your majesty to 
 send me forth ; I am very faint." 
 
 "Take him hence," said Catherine, "and let it be proclaimed 
 by sound of trumpet in each quarter of our fiuthful and Catholic 
 city, that a Huguenot minister will be put to death by fire at mid- 
 night within the Pre-aux-clercs. Let the ecclesiastical authorities 
 receive instant intimation to attend. Here is your warrant," she 
 added, delivering a written paper to the official. 
 
 " Your majesty hath delivered me the wrong order," said the 
 official, glancing at the superscription of the scroll; " this is a war- 
 rant for the execution of Cosmo Ruggieri, Abbe of Saint Mahe, 
 convicted of the crimes :.f l^ze-majesti and sorcery." 
 
 "It will suffice/' returned the queen, imperiously; "remove 
 your prisoner." 
 
 Chretien dropped upon his knees. 
 
 " How long, O Lord, holy and true," cried he, gazing ear- 
 nestly towards heaven, " dost thou not judge and avenge our blood 
 on them that dwell upon the earth ?" 
 
 And with these words his reverend head declined upon his 
 
THE rAA'ILIOX. 253 
 
 breast, while, supported by the two officials, he was borne out of 
 the pavilion. 
 
 " Your majesty, indeed, is an inexorable enemy," said Crichton, 
 gazing after the unfortunate preacher, with looks of the deepest 
 commiseration. 
 
 " And as unalterable a friend," returned the queen; " it is for 
 you now to determine. Chevalier Crichton, in which light I must 
 henceforth be viewed, A word ere we part. In Henri you have 
 a rival. He loves the Princess Esclairmonde." 
 
 " I know it, madam — " 
 
 *' To-night she is his, or yours." 
 
 " His she shall never be." 
 
 " Then you accept my terms ?'' 
 
 At this moment the loud blast of a bugle was heard sounding 
 from the further end of the tilt-yard. 
 
 " A knightly challenge !" exclaimed Crichton, listening for a 
 repetition of the notes. 
 
 " A kinrjhj challenge," returned Catherine; " tliat trumpet blast 
 is the defiance of Henri of Navarre." 
 
 " Henri of Navarre !" echoed Crichton, in astonishment; " he then 
 is the Huguenot leader whom fate hath delivered into your hands." 
 
 " He is," repUed Catherine. " I ain indebted to chance for 
 this important discovery. One of my demoiselles. La Kebours, as 
 she rode to the Louvre, was struck with the resemblance of a 
 soldier in the train of the Baron de Rosni to Henri de Bourbon. 
 The circumstance was casually alluded to in my hearing. My sus- 
 picions were at once aroused. Spies were instantly put upon 
 the scent, and I found that the soldier was the monarch in mas- 
 querade. The secret must rest between ourselves, messire." 
 
 " Fear nothing, madame," answered the Scot, " my lips are 
 sealed." 
 
 " I learnt also, that this fool-hardy king was about to attend 
 the jousts held at the Louvre, for the express purpose of breaking 
 a lance with you." 
 
 " With me, madame ?" 
 
 " Your renown as an expert tilter has, I conclude, reached his 
 ears, and he is resolved to put it to the proof. But hark ! his 
 trumpet sounds for the second time. This conference must be 
 brought to a close. Your answer to my proposal ?" 
 
 " It shall be delivered after the jousts ?" 
 
 " Our confidence in the mean time — ?" 
 
 " Shall be held sacred. I swear it." 
 
 " Enough — after the jousts I shall expect you within the royal 
 gallery. Place your hand, as if by accident, upon your poignard 
 when you approach me. From the gesture I shall infer that you 
 assent. Dieu vous garde ! messire." So saying, Catherine sum- 
 moned her attendants and quitted the pavilion. 
 
264 CRICHTON. 
 
 " What ho ! my lance — my steed," shouted Crlchton, snatching 
 his hchiict from tlie armc-uver, who hau promptly answered hia 
 call, — " ha ! Saint Andrew, my gorget, my gauntlets ! By heaven !" 
 he murmured, " to cross a lance witli the bravest prince in Chris- 
 tendom were reward enough for a thousand risks. Our Lady aid 
 me in this essay !" 
 
 In another instant his equipments were completed, and, vaulting 
 upon his steed, the Scot dashed through the entrance of the 
 lists. 
 
 No sooner was the coast clear, than from beneath the tapestry- 
 covered table, which stood in the middle of the tent, emerged first ' 
 a long conical cap — then a fantastic visage in which drollery was 
 strangely mixed up with apprehension — and lastly the odd-shaped 
 party-coloured person of Chicot — his teeth chattering and his 
 limbs shaking. 
 
 "Sang de cabres !" he cried, after casting an anxious glance 
 around. " I have stolen here to some purpose. Pretty revelations 
 I have heard. A conspiracy on the eve of breaking forth ! — our 
 dear Henriot about to be transfixed with a lance as his father Avas 
 transfixed before him. Had it been the cloister to which he was 
 condemned, I should not have cared — he had always a taste for the 
 frock — but assassination ! — Comes de diable ! I am horror-stricken. 
 Old Buridan was in the right to propound his sophism — ' Rerjiiuint 
 intefficere nolite timere hunutu esse.^ It would be a praiseworthy 
 act to put Queen Catherine out of the way. But Buridan's 
 theories are out of fashion even in the Sorbonne. What is to be 
 done? Luckily /have made no vow not to betray her majesty's 
 confidence — and if I had, on an occasion like the present, I should 
 not scruple to break it. What is to be done ? I ask myself that 
 question for the second time. I am sorely perplexed. Who will 
 believe my tale ? I shall be laughed at — cutFed — perhaps — be put 
 out of the way myself — the common fate of meddlers. I have it. 
 I will abide the issue of the jousts, and then confer with this Scot — 
 for I can guess what answer he means to give our JezabeL How 
 runs the pasquil ? 
 
 Twixt Catherine and Jezabel 
 
 The difference is small — 
 The one the plague of Israel, 
 
 The other plague of Gaul. 
 But if the fate of Jezabel 
 
 Our Catherine should befal, 
 The very dogs would (mark mo well !) 
 
 Refuse to eat at all."* 
 
 And muttering these scurrilous strains as he went, the jester 
 crept cautiously out of the pavilion. 
 
 * From a bitter pasquinade in the Journal of Henri III., entitled " Comparaison 
 'Catherine et de Jezabel." 
 
'j.:y3 
 
 CHAPTER Yl. 
 
 THE BEARNAIS. 
 
 Que direz-vous, fadieux maris, de cette souflFrance? N'aurez-vous point de 
 peur, que vos femmes vous laissent pour venir a nioi ? ou nestimerez-vous point 
 plutot que ce fut quelque lachete'. 
 
 Divorce Satiriqce. 
 
 As Cricliton rode into the tilt-yard, he found Henri, encircled 
 by his favourites, impatiently awaiting his return, and speculating 
 upon the haughty defiance with which the walls of the Louvre 
 yet resounded. 
 
 "Away, Montjoie — awav, messieurs," cried the monarch, 
 addressing the king-of-arms and the heralds; "do your devoir 
 quickly, and bring us word what hardy champion dares to intrude 
 within our lists. Par la mort-dieu ! it would seem we hold a free 
 passage of arms, and not private jousts. But this adventurer, who- 
 ever he may be, shall rue his temerity. Away ! and let us know his 
 title and condition. Ha ! you are come," he added, as the Scot 
 drew in tlie I'cin by his side — " Ave shall question you anon, mcs- 
 sire, as to tlie nature of your interminable conference wuth our 
 mother. We suspect from your looks, that you have been hatch- 
 ing some treason against us. Is it so ?" 
 
 " Sire !" exclaimed Crichton, reddening. 
 
 " By our faith your interview hutli made you serious since you 
 thus resent our jest," said the king, smiling; " and no wonder — for, 
 certes, a tete-a-tete of any duration with her majesty the queen- 
 mother, is no laughing matter, even to ourself However, upon 
 the present occasion we ought to tliank, rather than chide you, for 
 detaining her so long, as her absence has enabled us to lay closer 
 siege to her lovely demoiselle, than we should have cared to do 
 in her presence. Apropos of the fair Esclairmonde, Chevalier 
 Crichton, so soon as we have disposed of this unknown challenger, 
 it is our intention to splinter a lance with you in her honour. We 
 have no fears of your disloyalty you see, or Ave should not thus 
 heedlessly place our life at your disposal." 
 
 " Be Avarned, sire !" said a deep \'oice, " and run no course to- 
 day." 
 
 Henri started. 
 
 " Who speaks ?" he ejaculated, turning Avlth some misgiving, 
 in the supposed direction of the sound. His looks of inquiry fell 
 upon the frank countenance of the Vicomte de Joyeuse, Avhich Avas 
 charged Avith as much astonishment as his own. 
 
 " Kemembcryour father's fate !" exclaimed the same deep voice 
 now appearing to sound from a different quarter — " Beware !" 
 
 " Sang-dieu !" A^ociferated the king, furiously. "Who darea 
 thus address us? Let him stand forth." But no answer wia 
 returned: nor was any movement made in obedience to Henri'a 
 mandate. 
 
255 CRicnroN. 
 
 The courtiers eyed each other with glances of suspicion. No 
 one, however, could tax his neighbour with having uttered the 
 ominous words. 
 
 " Jesus !" exclaimed Henri, in a tone of some uneasiness, at the 
 same time secretly crossing himself, " that voice recals our idle 
 terrors of last night. But there can be no sarbacane upon the pre- 
 sent occasion." 
 
 " Vive-dieu ! no, sire," cried Joyeuse, springing to the king's 
 eide. "But there may be other artifice." 
 
 " It may be well not to neglect the caution, my gracious liege," 
 said Saint-Luc, who was almost as superstitious as his sovereign. 
 " Charles le Bien-Aim6 had his warning." 
 
 " And our ill-fated father, likewise," mused the king. 
 
 " Your majesty will not suffer yourself to be deterred from en- 
 tering the jousts by this imposture," said Joyeuse; " were 1 in your 
 place, sire, I would show my contempt for this hidden traitor's 
 counsel, by seizing a lance, and proceeding at once to the barriers." 
 
 " Joyeuse is in the right," said the Due de Nevers, with a singular 
 smile; " it were an impeachment of the Chevalier Crichton's 
 loyalty to refuse him, upon such light grounds, the honour of a 
 career with your majesty." 
 
 " It is an honour which I have not sought, monsieur le Due," 
 returned Crichton, sternly; " and I pray you to remember that the 
 stroke by which Henri II. fell was accidental." 
 
 " Speak not of it, mon cher," said the king, shuddering. 
 
 " Servans d'amours regardez doulcement, 
 Aux eschaffaiix anges de paradis — " 
 
 sang Joyeuse, anxious to reassure the pusillanimous monarch. 
 "'Think of the bright eyes that will watch your prowess, sire; 
 think of the belle Esclairmonde." 
 
 Henri glanced towards the grand gallery; he there beheld the 
 fair Princess of Cond^, " the cynosure of neighbouring eyes," and 
 his fears instantly vanished. 
 
 " Thou hast restored us, my brother," he said to the Vicomte. 
 •' We will think of the mistress of our heart. Were it to be our 
 last career we would no longer hesitate." 
 
 " It will be your last," said the deep voice, sounding yet more 
 noUowly. 
 
 " Ha !" ejaculated Henri, relapsing into all his former terrors, — 
 "that voice again! This passeth a jest — if a jest be intended; 
 and though we pardoned our buffoon Chicot's effrontery last night, 
 think not we will tolerate similar freedom to-day. Look to it, 
 messeigneurs, and let our hidden monitor, who lacketh the courage 
 to discover himself, in his turn beware." 
 
 " Methinks your hidden counsellor displays more courage and 
 forbearance in concealing himself," said Crichton, " than he would 
 do were he to obey your mandate. He can have nothing to 
 apprehend from your majesty." 
 
THE BEARNAIS. 257 
 
 At this moment, and while the utmost confusion prevailed amid 
 the royal group, to Henri's infinite rehef Montjoie and his atten- 
 dant heralds returned. " Heaven be praised !" exclaimed the kino-, 
 " if I am to be kept in the dark respectinir this mysterious warnino-, 
 my curiosity will, at all events, be gratified on another point of 
 equal interest. Thou art welcome, Montjoie. Thy news ! — 
 the name and condition of this hardy adventurer ? Yet hold ! 
 Ere thou speakest, I 'will wager the string of pearls a^rainst the 
 knot of ribbands that flutters on the Chevalier Crichton's helm, 
 that this champion is the Balafre." 
 
 " I accept your wager, sire," said Crichton. *' Favour a"-ainst 
 favour." 
 
 " Decide, Montjoie," said Henri, 
 
 " Your majesty is the loser," returned the king-of-arms ; " it is 
 tiot the Due de Guise." 
 
 "Diantre!" exclaimed Henri, reluctantly yielding the ga^e to 
 Crichton ; " you arc ever fortunate. It were vain to contend with 
 one upon whom the capricious goddess constantly smiles." 
 
 " Certes, your majesty has lost a talisman wliich more than tem- 
 pered steel would have been proof against my lance," rejoined the 
 Scot, joyfully unhelming himself, and attaching the string of pearls 
 to his casque. 
 
 Executed with consummate grace, this slight action was not un- 
 observed by the fair princess by whom the ornament had been worn. 
 Her situation enabled her to command the whole scene, and she 
 witnessed with surprise the inexplicable conduct of the kin^ towards 
 his rival. Her astonishment was, however, speedily chano-ed into 
 admiration and delight as she beheld her lover's employment; 
 and as she gazed upon his proud head, now divested of all cover- 
 ing save that afl:brded by his fair and flowing tresses; as she 
 looked upon the stately and snow-white throat springing from 
 out his " habiliments of war," like the moulded neck of An- 
 tinous ; as she listened to the unrestrained praises of the dames 
 by whom she was surrounded ; and the louder plaudits of 
 the admiring multitude ; and as she finally encountered his 
 enamoured gaze, and felt that he to whom aU this homage was 
 paid rendered homage alone to her — shall we injure her m the 
 esteem of the fair reader if we say that something of self-elation 
 mingled with her tenderer emotions? As Crichton replaced his 
 bourginot upon his brow she waved her hand, and her salutation 
 was instantly acknowledged by the Scot with a look and gesture 
 of the deepest devotion. 
 
 Henri, meantime, turning to Montjoie, continued his interroga- 
 tions respecting the strange knight. 
 
 " As permitted by the laws of chivalry, my liege," returned 
 Montjoie, in answer to the king's inquiry, " this champion claims 
 to be exempted from the disclosure of his name." 
 
 8 
 
258 CRICHTON. 
 
 '* And tliou hast recognised liis liplit to do so, we will be sworn?" 
 said Henri, in a petulant tone. 
 
 " In the due discharge of mine office, as your majesty's represen- 
 tative in the court of arms, I could not do otherwise," returned 
 Montjoie. 
 
 " You have done well, sir," said the king, frowning. 
 
 " I have fulfilled my duty, sire," returned Montjoie, bluntl}'; 
 *' your father, Henri II., of glorious memory, would not have 
 thus rebuked me." 
 
 " Nor will his son," said Henri, kindly: " your pardon, my old 
 and loyal servant. What title has this knight inscribed upon 
 your rolls ?" 
 
 " A strange one, sire — the Bearnais." 
 
 " The Bearnais 1" exclaimed Henri, in surprise; "this is some 
 mockery. There is but one champion in Europe who has a right 
 to that title, and he is not so much in want of warlike pastime, 
 or so fool-hardy, as to venture hither in quest of knightly adven- 
 tures." 
 
 " The cavalier is, perchance, one of the King of Navarre's 
 valiant captains, who has, for the nonce, usurped his sovereign's 
 title," returned Montjoie — " it may be Chatillon or D'Aubigne." 
 
 " Is he unattended?" demanded Henri. 
 
 *' No, my liege," answered Montjoie; " his companion is the King 
 of Navarre's envoy, Maximilian de Bethunes, Baron de Rosni," 
 
 "Ah! the Polydor of our cousin Alcandre," said the king, 
 smiling. 
 
 " And the husband of the fair Dioclee," observed Joyeuse, sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " Madame de Rosni is still alive, I believe, though her husband 
 threatened her with the dagger and the bowl when he discovered 
 her inconstancy with Henri of Navarre — eh ! marquis ?" said 
 Saint-Luc, addressing Villequier. 
 
 This was a home-thrust. Tlie Governor of Paris, a few years 
 back, had slain his first wife, Fran9oise de la Marck, for a like fault.* 
 He endeavoured, however, to parry the stroke. 
 
 " The Baron de Rosni is a base and contented wittol," he said, 
 with a sneer, "and merits his fate. Fortunate are they who 
 possess spouses sufficiently ill-favoured to ensure their safety." 
 
 The laugh was now on the governor's side, for the baroness (as 
 we have before remarked) was the plainest woman of her time. 
 
 Saint-Luc was about to make an angry retort to Villequier's 
 raillery, but his petulance was checked by the king. 
 
 '* No more of this, messeigneurs," said Henri; "here comes the 
 Baron de Rosni and his unknown companion. I pray you observe 
 them closely." 
 
 ♦ Cruentus sanguine uzoris, Pictavii ob improperatam sibi propudiosam vitam 
 interfectae. Thuanus, 
 
THE BEARNAIS. 259 
 
 And as he spoke, two knights completely armed, and each 
 followed by an esquire bearing his shield arid iance, entered the 
 champ-clos. The foremost of the twain, whose stature, originally 
 large, was materially increased in bulk by the ^jor^derous plates 
 of steel in which his limbs were cased, was mounted on a fiery 
 jet-black barb, which required the utmost efforts of his rider's 
 powerful arm to restrain his impatience. The visor of the knight 
 was closed, and through its narrow bars not even the flashing of an 
 eye could be discerned. One uniform ruddy tint pervaded his 
 equipments. From sallade to solleret, his harness was crimson- 
 coloured. His panache of ostrich plumes, " longs et haidx ;" the 
 sweeping caparisons of his charger ; the feathered tufts that nodded 
 on the chamfrin and croup of the lordly animal; the shield and 
 battle-axe that hung at his saddle-bow, were all of the same sanguine 
 hue. 
 
 Behind this champion, who, it is needless to say, was Henri of 
 Navarre, rode an esquire in livery of similar complexion, bearing 
 in his right hand a lance, on the point of which fluttered a 
 small silken pennon, and on his left arm a buckler, painted with 
 the simple flower so exquisitely described by a great poet of our 
 time as 
 
 A silver shield with boss of gold 
 
 That spreads itself, some Faery bold 
 In fight to cover — 
 
 and surmounted by a diadem, with the following couplet traced 
 in golden characters beneath it: — 
 
 D'awrat toufours nu ccrur crritc 
 Sur toutcs flrurs la J'tlargucritc. 
 
 It was evident from the device that this posy was intended as 
 an allusion to Margaret of Navarre. 
 
 The Baron de Kosni (better known by his subsequent illustrious 
 title of the Due de Sully) appeared in the same martial apparelhng 
 in which he was flrst introduced. His long two-handed sword 
 — a formidable weapon, described by a skilful professor of the 
 art of defence, Giacomo di Grassi, as being " four handfuls in the 
 handle, or more, having also the great cross" — was still girt to hia 
 side. The housings of his steed, a powerful roan, were crimson 
 and black in colour; while plumes of the same mixed hues crested 
 his morion, the visor of which was raised. 
 
 " Yon knight is of larger make than Alcandre, my liege," said 
 Joyeuse; " it cannot be he." 
 
 " By Saint Andrew !" exclaimed Crichton, who had witnessed 
 the entrance of the two chieftains with rapturous enthusiasm, " the 
 glowing trappings of yon preux chevalier remind me of the lay of 
 the brave Louis de Beauveau (as charming troubadour as he waa 
 
 S2 
 
260 CRICHTON. 
 
 expert tilter), wherein he has depicted his own appearance at the 
 jousts. Thus runs his ditty, if I remember rightly: — 
 
 l£S plus rouges p sont pris. 
 I. 
 
 Slowly unto the listed field I rode, 
 
 Rouge was my charger's wide caparison; 
 And the same hue that on his housing glowed. 
 
 Purpled my shield, my spear, my morion. 
 
 n. 
 
 Eouge was my couvrechief, that swept the sward. 
 Rouge the tall plume that nodded on my crest; 
 
 And the rich scarf — my loyalty's reward — 
 Blushed, like a timorous virgin, on my breast. 
 
 in. 
 
 My broad ensanguined shield bore this device, 
 
 In golden letters writ, that all might see 
 How for bold deeds will lightest words suffice. 
 
 And thus it rau — ' Les plus rouges y sont pris.' " 
 
 " Have a care ! men cher," said Joyeuse, smiling at his friend's 
 ardour. " See you not against whose shield the lance of yon 
 doughty knight is directed?" 
 
 "Now, by Saint George!" replied Crichton, striking his spurs 
 into his steed, and compelling him to execute a rapid succession 
 of curvets, " I am right glad the appeal has been made to me." 
 
 " By the memory of my valiant uncle, Francois de Vivonne," 
 exclaimed the Abbe de Brantome, who, tliough not hitherto 
 particularised, formed one of the group of courtiers in attendance 
 upon the king, " you are the flower of knighthood, Chevalier 
 Crichton, and appear to revive in your own person one of those 
 hardy champions of Francois I., who, standing upon the very 
 spot where we are now assembled, said, in admiration of their 
 achievements, 
 
 Chateigneraye, Vieilleville, et Bourdillon, 
 Sont les trois hardis compagnons !" 
 
 " The saying would apply with equal force to the champions of 
 our own time, dear abbe," returned Crichton, smiling. " The 
 courage of the three renowned warriors you have named survives 
 in their successors; the kingly courtesy of Frangois is renewed in 
 his grandson ; and our own monarch might, with as much truth 
 as his ancestor, exclaim, 
 
 Joyeuse, Saint-Luc, et D'Epernon, 
 Sont trois chevaliers braves et bona.** 
 
THE BEARNAIS. 261 
 
 The three nobles smilingly acknowledged the compliment; nor 
 did Henri appear less gratified than his favourites. 
 
 " What is all this?" cried Chicot, who had now found his way 
 to the side of his royal master, " what miserable distich is that I 
 hear ? Talk of ancestors and descendants — pouah ! — I, who am 
 the descendant of the great Triboulet, who was fool to a greater 
 fool, and upon whom my ancestor's cap and bells as well as lv9 
 office have fallen — I, Chicot, buffoon in ordinary to — 
 
 Henri, par la prace de sa Mere, 
 
 Inerte Roi de France, et de Pologne imaginaire, 
 
 swear and declare upon my bauble, that 
 
 Joyeuse, Saint-Luc, et D'Epernon 
 Sont fous ail nicrveilleux Criclitonl 
 
 And there's a better rhyme, as well as sounder reason for you.'' 
 
 Henri of Navarre, meanwliile, followed by his esquire, having 
 left the Baron de Rosni at the entrance of tlie tilt-yard, slowly 
 traversed the arena, attracting universal attention, especially among 
 the gentler sex, by his athletic and finely-formed figure, by the 
 singularity of his equipments, and more than all, by his vert-gallant 
 and amorous demeanour, which even danger could not subdue, 
 nor bars of iron entirely conceal. The carelessness with which 
 he bestrode his mettlesome and curveting charger; the continual 
 movements of his helmet from side to side, as his ardent glances 
 wandered over the crowd of beauties; the majestic ease of his car- 
 riage, and a thousand indescribable graces, none of Avhich were lost 
 upon the spectators, worked wonders in his favour. Something, 
 indeed, there was in the gallant Bourbon's manly form, that, under 
 any disguise he might assume, never failed to awaken immediate 
 interest in the female bosom. On the present occasion its effect 
 was little less tiian magical ; and as he paused for a moment 
 beneath tlie grand gallery, a perfect sensation was excited among 
 its fair and frolic occupants. 
 
 " Who is he ?" ran from lip to lip. 
 
 " It is the Due d'Anjou," said Madame de Narmoutiers. 
 
 " It is Bussy d'Amboisc," said Isabel de Alontsoreau. 
 
 " It is the Due de Guise," said la Marechalc de Rctz. 
 
 " INIon Dicu ! mesdames, yon knight's armour would encase all 
 three," said Torigni, screaming with laughter. " You ought to 
 know your old lovers better." 
 
 " Unless, like the Demoiselle de Torigni, we should have had so 
 many as to have forgotten all save the last," returned the mar6- 
 chale, maliciousl3^ 
 
 " Merci, madame," rejoined the Florentine, " you are quite wel 
 come to attack my memory, so long as you compliment my attrao 
 lions." 
 
262 CRICHTON. 
 
 " What if it be the gendarme of the Rue Pelican?" sighed La 
 Rebours. 
 
 " Your head has been running all the morning upon that soldier, 
 demoiselle," remarked La Fosseuse, pettishly. " You thought him 
 like Henri of Navarre, and now you think everybody like himr 
 
 " Ah ! if it should be the Bourbon, after all !" cried La Rebours, 
 suddenly recovering her animation. 
 
 " Whoever he may be," replied Torigni, " he has decidedly the 
 finest figure of any knight in the tilt-yard — the Chevalier Crichton 
 not excepted." 
 
 " Name not the traitor in my hearing," observed Marguerite de 
 Valois, whose attention this chance allusion to her lover's name 
 had aroused. 
 
 " Our unknown cavalier appears in search of some dame from 
 ■whom he may sohcit a favour," said the Marechale de Retz. 
 
 " And b.3 is so like the Due de Guise that you cannot possibly 
 refuse him," rejoined Torigni. 
 
 " His glances are directed towards La Rebours," said La Fos- 
 seuse — "see, he moves." 
 
 "To me!" ejaculated La Rebours, crimsoning to the temples. 
 "No," slie added, with a look of disappointment, "it is to her 
 majesty." 
 
 " And see you not the device on his shield," remarked Torigni, 
 *' and the motto 
 
 J'aurai toujours an cceur ecrite 
 Sur toutes fleurs la Marguerite. 
 
 He is, evidently, an aspirant to the smiles of our gracious mistress. 
 Your majesty," continued the artful Florentine, addressing the queen 
 in a low tone, " will have now an opportunity of fully revenging 
 yourself upon your inconstant lover." 
 
 " You forget whom you address, minion," replied INIarguerite, 
 vainly endeavouring to hide her emotion under the mask of 
 impatience; " once more I forbid you to allude to him." 
 
 At this moment, a page pressed forward, and bending the knee 
 before the Queen of Navarre, tendered the homage of the unknown 
 knight — 
 
 " The companion-in-arms of the Baron de Rosni," he said, 
 " who solicits some slight token from your majesty, that he may 
 splinter a lance in your behalf with the Chevalier Crichton." 
 
 " With Crichton !" exclaimed Marguerite, risinjr, 
 
 "I was m the right you see, madamc," cried Torigni; but per- 
 ceiving the fearful change that had taken place in the countenance 
 of the queen, she checked her vivacity; " after all, she 1^7'// avenge 
 herself upon her lover," thought the demoiselle; " that look reminds 
 me of the night when Guillaume du Prat, enticed by her caresses 
 to the deed, forever silenced the envenomed tongue of her enemy, 
 Du Guast." 
 
THE BEARNAIS. 263 
 
 " This knight is the companion of the Baron de Rosni, thou 
 sayst?" demanded Marguerite, with an abstracted air, 
 
 " His brother-in-arms, madame," returned the youth 
 
 *' He shall receive a gage from our own hand," said the queen, 
 after a brief pause. 
 
 " He will value it the more highly," rejoined the youtli. 
 " Honoured by so fair a queen, his success in the career is certain." 
 
 " On my faith, beau sire, thou hast learnt thine office betimes," 
 said Torlgni, smiling. 
 
 " Let thy lord attend us within the chamber beneath this gal- 
 lery," paid Marguerite. " Demoiselles Torigni and La Rebours, 
 you will accompany us." 
 
 Tlie page arose and departed. 
 
 " May I crave a word with your majesty ?" said Esclairmonde, 
 approaching the queen. 
 
 " Your pardon, demoiselle," replied Marguerite, haughtily, 
 " we would pass." 
 
 And she quitted the gallery, followed by her attendants. 
 
 Having completed his survey of the fair occupants of the bal- 
 cony, and despatched the message we have just heard delivered, 
 Henri of Navarre spurred his steed in the direction of the paviHon, 
 before which, attached to a halbert struck deeply into the earth, 
 was displayed Crichton's shield. Snatchin;? a lance from his 
 esquire, the monarch struck it against the targe with so much fjood 
 will that the halbert and its clanging burden were at once borne 
 to the ground ; while, startled by the noise of the falling arms, his 
 charger began to rear and plunge violently. 
 
 " Harnibleu!" muttered Henri, sharply applying his armed heel 
 to the flanks of the unruly animal, and by a powerful effort reducinof 
 him to subjection; " this froward steed is evidently unused to the 
 exercise of the tilt-yard. He starts at the clatter of steel as an 
 unmanaged colt Avinceth at the lash of the chambriere. He may 
 know his paces; but I doubt if I shall be able to bring him to the 
 rest, after the career. My sage counsellor Rosni had, I suspect, 
 his own motives in persuading me to abandon my brave old Nor- 
 man charger, whom the roar of a culverin, or the clash of a thou- 
 sand pikes would not affright, and whom I can restrain with a silken 
 thread, for this high-spirited and fantastic barb, because, forsooth, 
 lie has finer Hmbs, and a sleeker coat. The knave would gladly 
 see me discomfited, that his own superior wisdom may, in future, 
 be acknowledged. It shall go hard, however, if I do not, despite 
 his ingenious stratagem, outwit him. At all events, I will not give 
 him the satisfaction of perceiving the annoyance he has occasioned 
 me. I have overcome greater obstacles than this rebellious animal 
 presents — ay, and turned them to account, too. An enterprise 
 without danger is of Httle worth. Itivia virtuti nulla est via : — 
 has ever been my device. And now for my lady's token ! Sa 
 ha! sirrah — take heed ! You carry Caesar and his fortunes." 
 
264 CRICHTON 
 
 Again applying the spur, and checking the impetuous movements 
 of his steed with an arm of iron, Henri, as deliberately as he came, 
 returned to the grand gallery. 
 
 " Her majesty will bestow the token upon you with her own 
 hand, monseigneur," said the page, advancing to meet him. 
 
 " A la bonne heure !" exclaimed the king. " This is exactly 
 what I wished." And dismounting, he flung the rein to his' 
 esquire, and entered the scaffold with a light and joyous footstep. 
 
 " This way, sir knight," said one of the huissiers stationed at ■ 
 the portal. " The Queen of Navarre will give you audience 
 within this chamber." 
 
 A tapestried curtain, suspended before an open valve, was then 
 drawn aside, and the king found himself in the presence of his 
 consort. 
 
 Henri of Bourbon was not Avont to have misgivings where a 
 lady was concerned. But the situation in which he was placed 
 with his queen was rather embarrassing. It was a relief to 
 him, therefore, to find that she was not alone. Having no such 
 apprehensions, and not being aware who it was that stood before 
 her, Marguerite immediately, on the king's appearance, dismissed 
 her attendants. La Rebours lingered for an instant behind her 
 companion; and as she passed the monarch, her embroidered 
 handkerchief (it might have been by accident) fell to the ground. 
 Henri stooped to raise it; and as he restored the perfumed mou- 
 choir to its fair owner, his hand, divested of his gauntlet, contrived 
 to encounter the taper fingers of the demoiselle. Assuredly it was 
 not by accident that the pressure which he hazarded was so per- 
 ceptibly returned. 
 
 " Ventrc-saint-gris!" muttered the king, "this is the lovely 
 dame whom I beheld in the rue Pelican." 
 
 " I will stake my life that it is Henri of Navarre," thought La 
 Rebours, glancing from beneath her downcast eyelids at the 
 Bourbon's stately figure; "and if so,'' ran her meditations, as she 
 quitted the room, "there can be no danger in trusting him with 
 his queen. I need apprehend no rivalry in that quarter. Con- 
 nubial devotion is certainly not Henri's foible." 
 
 If the monarch felt disconcerted at the idea of a tete-a-tete witii 
 his spouse, his embarrassment was not diminished when he found 
 that this little piece of gallantry had not escaped her notice. His 
 fears, however, were needless. Marguerite entertained no jealousy 
 of him ; though it suited her purpose to affect some slight pique. 
 
 " The kerchief of my demoiselle would seem to have a higher 
 value in your eyes, messire," she said, " than any gage I could 
 bestow, were it even a tress of my own hair to bind upon your 
 helm ?" 
 
 " You are mistaken, madame," returned Henri, in a feigned 
 voice, but in the impassioned tone which he had ever at command, 
 *' the simple pearl is lovely in mine eyes; but the ' pearl of pearls* 
 
THE BEARNAI8. 265 
 
 IS that which wins my homage. As Jean de la Taille, froro 
 whom I have borrowed the scroll upon my shield, sings, 
 
 Ce ne fut pas la paquerette 
 L'oeillet, la rose, ni le lys: 
 Ce fut la belle Marguerite, 
 Qu'au coeur j'aurai toujours ecrite. 
 
 Marguerite, your name is inscribed upon my licart as upon my 
 buckler. Re'cal not your boon, I implore of you. Yield me that 
 treasured gage, and you ensure me victory." 
 
 " If it will ensure you victory, it is yours," said Marguerite, 
 eagerly. 
 
 '" What you refuse to love you readily accord to hate, I per- 
 ceive," returned Henri. " You have some quarrel to avenge upon 
 the Chevalier Crichton." 
 
 " The deepest a woman has to avenge," replied Marguerite. *' I 
 will not disguise from you, messire, that I have to requite a lover's 
 inconstancy." 
 
 " Soh," thought Henry " /am destined to hear my own dis- 
 honour proclaimed by hps to which I cannot with propriety give 
 the lie. I also have a quarrel to arrange with this Scottish 
 knight," he added aloud, "and by consequence you could not 
 have found a fitter champion to redress your wrongs. He has 
 injured mc as deeply as yourself." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " Corbleu ! madame," returned Henri, " most men would con- 
 sider my injuries the heavier. But I will not contest the point. 
 You are, undoubtedly, the best judge as to which of us is the 
 greater sufferer." 
 
 " I see to wliat you allude, messire," said ]\Iarguerite. '' 1 
 have to complain of "the perfidy of a lover — you of the infidelity 
 of a wife." 
 
 " Precisely so," replied Henry. 
 
 " Wash out the stain upon your name in the traitor's blood," 
 exclaimed the queen. "As to your faithless dame, if the death of 
 her paramour will not content your vengeance, I swear, if she belong 
 to tlie court of France, or to that of my roy;d husband, Henry of 
 Navarre, her crime shall not puss unpunishe;!." 
 
 "The guilt of the adultress shall not pass unpunished," rejoined 
 Henri, gravely. "But it is well for my faithless dame_ that my 
 plan of retribution diifers from that proposed by your majesty." 
 
 " You love her, then, despte her fault?" said Marguerite. 
 
 " No," replied Henri, mournfully — " but I have loved her— and 
 for that remembered tenderness I will spare her." 
 
 " Your dame is fortunate in the possession of a lord so patient, 
 returned Marguerite, scornfully. 
 
 " She is more fortunate than &he deserves to be^ I must owu, 
 madame," answered Henri. 
 
266 ClUCHTON. 
 
 " You may ropent this weakness -when it is too iato." rejoined 
 Marguerite. "I comprehend not how a wronj; Kke this can be 
 lorgiven. 
 
 " Would not these words pass sentence upon yourself, madame, 
 were tlicy uttered in the presence of the king your husband?" 
 
 " Speak not of Henri," said the queen. " He hath long divorced 
 himself from my love. If I have been faithless consort, he has 
 been faithless lord. He cannot complain. I could have loved him 
 — but — no matter ! It is not of /liin I would speak — but of your- 
 self." ^ 
 
 " Two persons closely connected," thought the king. 
 
 " Hear me !"' cried Marguerite, clasping Henri's fingers with a 
 hand that burnt with fever; " your dame has wronged you — you 
 love her not." 
 
 " I have already confessed as much, madame. Open not my 
 bleeding wounds anew." 
 
 " I do so but to heal them. Now, mark me. Let tlie result of 
 this career be fatal to — to the Chevalier Crichton, and what I have 
 of love is yours." 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris !" mentally ejaculated Henri. "This is a 
 novel reward for redressing my own injuries." 
 
 " How say you, messire?" demanded the queen, impatiently. 
 
 " Can you doubt my answer? I accept your proposal. But 
 what assurance have I of your sincerity?" 
 
 " My word — the word of an injured and vindictive woman — 
 the word of a queen." 
 
 " When her injuries are redressed, the queen may forget what 
 the woman has promised." 
 
 " The woman shall never forget that she is a queen, nor what is 
 due to her as the sister, and the spouse of kings," returned Mar- 
 guerite, haughtily. " When I laid my commands upon the Baron 
 de Viteaux to slay the ribald Du Guast; when I made the same 
 proposal to him that I have made to you, he hesitated not.* 
 But he had loved me long." 
 
 "/have lored you yet longer, Marguerite," rejoined Henri, in 
 a troubled tone ; " and I will do your bidding. But do not 
 liken me to the assassin Viteaux." 
 
 * That these details are not exacrgeratecl, will be perceived by a glance a 
 the subjoined account of the assassination of the Sieur Du Guast, taken from 
 the Journal de Henri III. " La reine Marguerite, piquee au vif, et animee encore 
 par les plaintes de toutes cellcs que Du Guast avoit outrage'es, s'addressa 
 a Guillaume Du Prat, Baron de Viteaux, alors cache a Paris, dans le Convent 
 dcs Augustins, pour un meurtre, qu'il avoit commis quelque temps auparavant 
 en la personne d'Antoine d'Alegre; ede Vengayea par ses caresses a devenir son 
 vengeur. Viteaux, pour faire son coup, choisit le premier deNovembre, vielle dela 
 Fete des Morts, parce que le bruit de toutes les cloches de Paris qui se fait 
 entendre alors, etoit propre a cacher le bruit inse'parable de I'execution 
 de son eatreprise. II se rend, avec quelques autres sur le soir, au logis de 
 Du Guast, monte dans sa chambre, et le trouve au lit, oii U le perce de plusieura 
 coups." 
 
THE BEARNAIS. 267 
 
 " I blame not your incredulity, messire," said the queen, resum- 
 ing all her softness and blandishment of manner; "it could not 
 be otherwise. That I should affect to love one whom I never 
 before beheld — with whose features — with whose name I am alike 
 unacquainted — were to belie myself — to deceive you. But there 
 is something in the tone of your voice that inspires me with 
 confidence. I have unhesitatingly trusted you with the hidden 
 purposes of my soul. As loyal knight you will not betray them. 
 Obey my behests, and I will fulfil my promise. You ask lor some 
 token of my truth. Here is one Avill remove all doubts ;" and 
 as she spoke, she took from her neck a carcanet of pearls, the lustre 
 of which was eclipsed by the dazzling fairness of her skin ; " this 
 ornament was the gift of Henri of Navarre." 
 
 " Diable!" ejaculated the king. 
 
 " It was given me on our espousals — it is yours." 
 
 " Could Henri of Navarre have anticipated you would part with 
 it thus, his hand should have been hacked off at the wrist ere he 
 had bestowed it." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " I crave your majesty's pardon. I have a strange habit of put- 
 ting myself in the situation of other people, and for the moment 
 fancied myself your credulous husband. Give me the chain." 
 
 " Remove your casque, then, and with my own hand I will 
 attach the collar to it." 
 
 Henri appeared irresolute. 
 
 *' Trifle not," said the queen, " but to the lists. And then death 
 to the traitor, and confusion to your faithless dame !" 
 
 "Be it so," replied the king, unhelming himself, and gazing 
 sternly at his consort. " Take back your own words. Marguerite, 
 — confusion to my faithless dame I" 
 
 " Henri !" ejaculated the queen, gazing at him as if she beheld 
 a spectre. " Pity — pity !" 
 
 " Be silent, madamc," said the king; " this is my retribution." 
 
 Marguerite made an effort to control herself — but in vain. Her 
 limbs failed her, and she sank senseless into the arms oi' La Kcbours, 
 who most opportunely Hew to her assistance. 
 
 " Give me thy kerchief, ma mie," said Henri, to the demoiselle; 
 " it shall be my gage instead of this polluted carcanet. xVnd now, 
 thy hand — nay, thy lips, sweet one; we sliall meet again anon." 
 
 " Success attend your majesty," said La Rebours, as the king 
 departed. " Give me joy, Torigni," she added, when the latter 
 appeared; " my fondest hopes are reahsed." 
 
 " Li what way?" asked the Florentine. 
 
 "Hush! her majesty revives — the intelligence is not for her 
 ears." 
 
 " Is he gone?" gasped Marguerite. 
 
 " He has returued to the lists, madame," replied La Rebours. 
 
268 CRICHTON. 
 
 "And my gage?" asked the queen. 
 
 " Is there," answered the attendant, pointing, maliciously, to 
 the neglected pearls. 
 
 " Assist me to that fauteuil, Torigni," said the queen, withdraw- 
 ing herself I'rom the support of La Rebours. " If Crichton proves 
 victorious in this conflict, bid the Demoiselle Esclairmonde attcua 
 me here," 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BARB. 
 
 La seconde venue 
 
 Guerry encor, j'en ay bien souvenance, 
 L'autre ronipit, et depuis contenance 
 N'ot son destrier a la lice approchier, 
 Et car long temps ne se peuvent touchier. 
 
 Louis ve Beauveau. 
 
 Ckichtox, meantime, in answer to the defiance of the King of 
 Navarre, instantly proceeded to the entrance of the lists, executing, 
 as he rode thither, so many graceful curvets and high passades 
 (which latter, according to Fluvinel, constitute " la vraye pierre 
 de louche du hon chevalier^ et du bon c/ievaT') that the air resounded 
 with the applause of the spectators, and the tide of popular 
 opinion, which a breath will ever turn, again ran high in his 
 favour. 
 
 Stirred by their shouts, and still more elated by the prospect of 
 an encounter with his kingly and chivalrous antagonist ; perceiv- 
 ing, also, that the Bourbon had dismounted, and that the pales 
 (again hastily stretched across the area under the direction of the 
 Vicomte de Joyeuse and Montjoie) were not yet firmly fastened to 
 their supporters, the Scot called to his esquire, and taking his spear, 
 with the ostensible purpose of breathing his charger, performed a 
 brilliant course alone. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the rapidity and dexterity with which this 
 pass was made. The animal seemed to obey every impulse of his 
 rider. Starting from his post with a snort of wild delight, ho 
 launched into the career as if he would bear down all oppo- 
 sition by his fury. Crichton threw the rein upon his shoulder, and 
 flunfj his heavy lance into the air — caught it — again tossed it aloft 
 — and repeated this extraordinary feat lor a third time, ere the 
 haunches of his steed seemed to stiffen into marble on his arrival 
 at the point of rest. Universal acclamations rewarded this trium- 
 phant exliibition of knightly skill. 
 
 But the admiration of the beholders amounted to the most rap- 
 turous enthusiasm as they witnessed what next ensued. The Scot 
 shouted to the attendants, and, in obedience to his command, the 
 ring employed in the tourney was instantly attached to an elevated 
 
THE BARB. 269 
 
 post, fonning part of the framework of the lists. Executing a 
 demi- volte with curvets, ha again started on his career; again 
 thrice hurled his spear aloft ; and, maintaining throughout this 
 gallant action an unaltered carriage of body, moving only theri£;ht 
 arm, as occasion demanded, finally carried off the prize upon his 
 lance's point. This performance (prolonged in description) was 
 the work only of a few seconds. 
 
 The dames waved their kerchiefs; the sergeants of the guard 
 clashed their halberts ; the mob flung their caps into the air, 
 without being so successful in regaining them as the Scot had 
 been in the recovery of his spear ; tlie bosoms of the youthful 
 nobles beat high with ardour and emulation; even the members of 
 the royal group were loud in their applauses. 
 
 " Honneur aiuvjils des prcu.v T exclaimed Brantome, with tran- 
 sport; " that course was bravely executed." 
 
 " A marvellous exploit, certes, my dear abbe," said Henri. 
 "Your valiant uncle, the Sieur de la Chateigneraye, with all his 
 address in horsemanship, and expertness in the management of 
 arms, could scarcely have achieved that amazing feat." 
 
 " Ii may not occur to your majesty's recollection, but precisely 
 the same feat as that we have just witnessed, ivas performed bv 
 the Sieur de la Chateigneraye in the presence of your royal father," 
 returned Brantome. " My brave uncle has been surpassed by no 
 knight, living or dead, in vigour and address." 
 
 " Save by Gui de Chabot, abbe," cried the jester, witli a scoffing 
 grimace. " The coiip de Jariiac has passed into a proverb. It 
 will be fortunate for our dear Henriot if the couj) de CriclUun 
 do not supersede it." 
 
 " A truce to this!" said the king; " thy jesting is ill-timed." 
 
 " Good counsel is generally so, compere," retorted Chicot. " If, 
 however, after this specimen of Crichton's consummate skill, like 
 yon unknown knight, you are so madly adventurous as to tilt with 
 him, I shall say of you, what one wiser than I am said of the 
 king, your father — 
 
 Sire, vous n'estes plus, vous n'estes plus que cire!" 
 
 " You shall say what you please of us, scelerat," returned the 
 good-humoured monarch, laughing ; " if we do hazard the safety 
 of our royal person, and endanger our hitherto untarnished repu- 
 tation as a knight, by entering the lists with this invincible Scot, 
 whom Sathan certainly abetteth. But see ! his fool-hardy chal- 
 lenger again takes the Held — ha ! mort Dieu ! what is this ? Our 
 Bearnais (if he must be so designated) tears the silken streamer 
 from his spear, and casts it beneath his charger's hoofs." 
 
 " Observe, also, my liege, that he replaces it with a kerchief," 
 interposed Brantome ; " and note, moreover, that this kerchief 
 has not the golden fringe which is worn by the Queen of Navarro 
 
270 CRICIITON. 
 
 Her majesty, wliose colours he liath rashly assumed, has e\'idently 
 refused him a favour — ha ! — ha!" 
 
 " There is nothing extraordinary in that, Seigneur Abbe, seeing 
 that the Admirable Crichton is in the case," returned Chicot. " I 
 warrant me, if thou hadst been his opponent, this cavalier's suit 
 would not have been fruitless. Let it suffice that he has a gage 
 — no matter what — or whence obtained — ■ 
 
 What a queen hath denied him, 
 A guean hath supplied him : 
 And the favour he beareth 
 No favourite shareth : 
 His choice is a right one 
 With kerchief a white one, 
 To tilt against Crichton." 
 
 " By Plioebus ! gossip !" exclaimed the king, " thou rhymcst 
 like Frere Jean, eri cramoisi. But hark ! the charge is sounded. 
 Montjoie's arrangements are completed. AUons ! messeignours. 
 Hola ! Du Halde, my warder ! Hast thou contrived Ruggieri's 
 escape ?" he added, in a whisper. 
 
 " He is already without the Louvre, my liege," returned tiie 
 chief valet, in the same tone. 
 
 " Tlie fair Esclairmonde is ours, then !" ejaculated Henri, with 
 triumph. 
 
 And, followed by his favourites, he proceeded to the canopy and 
 took his seat upon the throne. 
 
 By this time the area of the tilt-yard was cleared of its nume- 
 rous intruders. The marshals of the field hastened to their tri- 
 bunal; ]\Iontjoie hurried to the estrade reserved for himself and 
 his attendants; while each cavalier sought to secure for himself 
 an advantageous position for the approaching spectacle. For the 
 moment all was bustle and clamour. But, above the shouts of the 
 various officers, stationed (it would seem in all ages), not so 
 much to preserve order as to increase confusion, the trampling 
 and neighing of steeds, and the jingling of martial equipments, 
 arose the loud fanfare of the trumpeter, making " young pulses 
 dance" with its stirring notes. 
 
 As the blast died away, profound silence ensued. The two 
 champions and their esquires alone occupied either extremity of 
 the barriers. Each regarded his antagonist with curiosity. On 
 the part of Crichton the feeling was one of enthusiastic delight : 
 on that of Henri of Bourbon admiration was chilled by deep sense 
 of wrong. Nevertheless, his frank and noble nature could not 
 resist the Scot's high claims to consideration; and as he narrowly 
 scrutinised his matchless symmetry of figure, and consummate grace 
 of demeanour, he, who was no harsh judge of woman, felt half 
 disposed to overlook his consort's fault. 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris !" he mentally ejaculated; " a likely galliard 
 
THF R\RR. 271 
 
 to please tlie fancy of a queen — and worth a thousand such mig- 
 n'li.id vohiptuarics as the balladin La INIolc, or that grand degdute 
 lufenne. I could fori^uve his attentions to Marguerite. But there 
 is our fair cousin of Conde — I must punish his presumption in that 
 quarter. Sa ha ! tlie devil is in his steed." 
 
 Crichton now drew his visor over his glowing check, and re- 
 pressing the tumultuous emotions of his heart, with a light and 
 steady hand placed his lance in its rest. The trumpet sounded for 
 )he second time, and Henri was about to follow the Scot's example, 
 in expectation of the signal of assault, when, affrighted by the 
 kerchief ihittering over his head, his fiery charger, disregarding 
 all restraint, broke from his post, and dashed headlong into the 
 area. 
 
 Expert in all martial exercises, the chivalrous Bourbon was one 
 of the most perfect horsemen of his time, and his arm was 
 endowed with no ordinary vigour; but neither skill nor strength 
 availed him on the present emergency. Encumbered by his lance, 
 which he was unwilling to throw aside, he could only employ his 
 left hand in coercion — while, deeply mortified and irritated at the 
 occurrence, his efforts were in the first place directed rather to tlie 
 punishment than the subjection of his unruly steed; — and this 
 made matters worse. Each application of the spur was followed 
 by a fierce and violent plunge. The infuriated animal reared, 
 jerked, Avinced, and resorted to every vicious practice and stratagem 
 to dislodge his rider. In this he failed. But, in his turn, his rider 
 failed in compelling him to approach the lists. 
 
 At this juncture, and just as the monarch, full of wrath against 
 his counsellor Rosni, began to despair of accomplishing his point, 
 assistance was aflbrded him from a quarter whence it could have 
 been least anticipated. Perceiving the Bourbon's inabiUty to 
 govern his charger, Crichton rode towards him — and in a tone of 
 the highest courtesy proffered to exchange steeds with him ; ex- 
 pressing, at the same time, his perfect conviction that he could 
 achieve the animal's subjection, and carry him safely through the 
 course. 
 
 " By the soul of Bayard !" returned the Bourbon, with equal 
 courtesy, " fame hath not belled you, Chevalier Crichton. Your 
 proffer is worthy of a brighter age of chivalry, and should have 
 been made to a worthier kniglit than myself. In acceding to 
 your proposal I feel that I acknowledge my defeat. In any case 
 you are victor in point of generosity. Nor will 1 by a refusal rob 
 you of additional honour." So saying, he flung himself from his 
 charter's back. 
 
 " It follows not, because I may be the more expert horseman, that 
 I shall also prove the more expert tilter," returned Crichton, dis- 
 mounting. 
 
 "Kyou overcome the impetuosity of this froward beast, you 
 will accomplish a feat more difficult than that of Alexander of 
 
272 ClilCHTON. 
 
 Macedon," rejoined the Bourbon. " But if you succeed in brinp- 
 ing him to the pales, look well to yourself — I promise you the re- 
 ception due to so valiant a champion: — 
 
 Les plus jolis n'ont pas h leur plaisance 
 Aucune fois I'honneur et le renom." 
 
 " You will find me no faineant," replied Crichton. " Nor do I 
 think so lightly of your prowess as to neglect your caution." 
 
 At tliis moment the Baron de Rosni, attended by Montjoie and 
 Joyeuse, rode up to them. 
 
 " Sire," said Rosni, in a whisper, " I pray you take my steed." 
 
 " Stand back, sir !" returned the Bourbon, coldly. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said Rosni, turning to the Scot. 
 ** mount not that ungovernable horse — my charger is at your 
 service." 
 
 Crichton replied by vaulting into the saddle of the King of Na- 
 varre, and giving the rein to the barb, he careered round the tilt- 
 yard, as if he was borne by one of the winged horses of the sun. 
 
 " Courage, mon Admirable," cried Joyeuse, looking after him, 
 with a smile. 
 
 Vain were the efforts of the nigh frantic steed to shake his firm- 
 seated rider; — he had to strive against one with whom contention 
 was ineffectual. Crichton, for the moment, allowed him to expend 
 his fire. He then struck spurs fiercely into his sides, and com- 
 pelled him to execute upwards of twenty caprioles in a breath. 
 His fury now visibly abated; and the Scot completed his mastery 
 by another career, and a swift succession of curvets. The next 
 moment the animal stood controlled and motionless at the entrance 
 of the hsts. 
 
 The loudest plaudits would have followed this achievement had 
 not all clamour been interdicted during the actual progress of the 
 jousts. As it was, an irrepressible murmur testified the wonder- 
 ment and delight of the spectators. 
 
 The clarion now sounded for the third time, and the combatants 
 started on their career. Both lances were splintered by the vehe- 
 ment shock of their encounter. But no injury was sustained on 
 either side. A similar result followed the second atteinte. 
 
 " Give me that painted spear, it is of tougher wood," said Crichton, 
 to his esquire, while the trumpet Avas blown for the third assault. 
 And couching his lance, as he again sprang forward, he di- 
 rected it, with unerring aim, against the crest of his antagonist's 
 morion. 
 
 The result of the career was decisive. The shock was more 
 violent than those of the preceding rencounters. The lance of the 
 Bourbon, whose mark had been the centre of the Scot's helm, 
 again shivered to the handle; while the stroke of Crichton, into 
 which he had thrown all his force, would unquestionably have 
 
THE ENGLISHMAN. 275 
 
 unhorsed his adversary, had not the helmet of the monarch, which 
 had never been firmly fastened since his interview with his queen, 
 yielded to the blow, and rolled to tlie ground. 
 
 " Bon dieu !" exclaimed Henri III,, rising, " it is the Bearnais 
 — it is our brother of Navarre. We should recognise that Bourbon 
 nose among a thousand. What ho ! — our steed ! our steed. — 
 Where is our mother ? — where is her majesty, Catherine de 
 Medicis? We would speak witli her, ere we confront the 
 hardy traitor. Surround us, messeigneurs, and let our body- 
 guard be trebled. Some conspiracy may — nay, must be on foot. 
 What think you of it, Villequier, and you, cousin of Nevers? 
 See to the outlets of the tilt-yard. Suffer none to go forth, or to enter. 
 By Saint Hubert I we have snared a tiger." 
 
 Crichton, meantime, had reined in his steed, and returned to 
 the Bourbon. " Sire !" he said, speaking in a low, determined 
 tone, " I have, unwittingly, betrayed you to your foes. But 
 if you will confide in me, I pledge myself to accomplish your 
 deliverance." 
 
 " My counsel to your majesty," interposed Rosni, " would be 
 to hasten to the king your brother, and if possible obtain permis- 
 sion to depart with your escort ere he have time to confer with the 
 queen-mother. It is your only hope." 
 
 Henri averted his head from his confidant. " Chevalier Crich 
 ton," he said, addressing the Scot, " I will trust you. There is 
 my liand." 
 
 " If I take it not, sire," replied Crichton, " your majesty will 
 understand my motive, when I say that the eyes of Catherine de 
 Medicis are upon us." 
 
 " True," replied the Bourbon, " and those of our fair cousin of 
 Cond^, also — hem ! clrcvalicr." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE ENGLISHMAN, 
 
 Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, 
 Though banish'd, yet a true-born Englishman. 
 
 Shakspeare. Richard II. 
 
 The majestic and remarkable countenance of Henri of Navarre 
 (a face once seen, not readily forgotten) had been instantly re- 
 cognised by the majority of the assemblage ; and such of the 
 crowd as were unacquainted with his features, speedily gathered 
 his title from the general vociferations. Coupled with various and 
 most discordant epithets, his name now resounded from every 
 quarter. Some applauded his bravery and bonhommie ; some 
 derided his imprudence and temerity; others railed bitterly and 
 loudly against his heresies, and apostacy from the religion of 
 
 T 
 
274 CRICHTON. 
 
 Rome (whose tenets Henri, not over-scrupulous on matters of 
 faith, embraced or renounced, as circumstances required); others, 
 on the contrary, silently and devoutly hailed him as the cham- 
 pion of their creed. A few there were, who fancied they dis- 
 covered in his sudden appearance in the midst of his foes, a 
 signal for an insurrection and massacre, in retaliation for the 
 sanguinary day of Saint-Barthelemi, and held themselves in 
 readiness to obey his mandates; while another, and more nume- 
 rous faction, deeply interested in all events affecting their 
 project, regarded the occurrence as singularly inauspicious. Ca- 
 therine de Medicis, alone, viewed the discovery without surprise 
 or dismay. 
 
 Popular by his affability, generosity, and manliness (qualities 
 which afterwards won for him the affectionate appellation — yet 
 hallowing his name in the breast of every true Frenchman — ot 
 ' le boa roi"), the Bourbon, even during the period of his deten- 
 ,lon within the Louvre, had attached no inconsiderable party to 
 nis cause ; and amongst the youthful and light-hearted nobles 
 then present, there were many whose zeal would have prompted 
 them to declare themselves in his favour, had any attempt been 
 made upon his life. The situation, therefore, of the intrepid 
 monarch, who, attended by Crichton and Rosni, remained 
 unmoved, with his hand upon the pommel of his sword, and a 
 smile upon his lips, was not frauglit with so much peril as at first 
 sight would appear. 
 
 Joyeuse and D'Epernon, with several of the immediate and 
 loyal adherents of Henri IH., flew to each outlet of the tilt-yard, 
 re-inforced the guard, and issued the king's commands to allow 
 none to enter or to pass forth from the arena. 
 
 Before these orders could be obeyed, a man of robust appear 
 ance, and square, stout make, rushed upon the ancient, or standard- 
 bearer of tlie guard, plucked from his side a long two-handed 
 sword, leapt over the paUsades of the lists, and, followed by 3 
 huge dog, made the best of his way in the direction of Henri ot 
 Navarre. 
 
 The action was too suddenly and too swiftly executed to be 
 prevented. But the flying figure of the man catching the eye of 
 the Vicomte de Joyeuse, he struck his spurs into his charger, 
 and dashed in pursuit with the intention of cutting him down. 
 Nothing could have prevented the fugitive's destruction but the 
 timely assistance afforded by his four-footed companion. Just a? 
 Joyeuse had overtaken him, and was about to discharge a blow , 
 which must have proved fatal, the career of his steed was checkec 
 by the dog, whose fangs were suddenly fixed within the nostrils o. 
 the terrified animal. At the same moment the man turned and 
 stood upon his defence. 
 
 With eyes starting from their sockets, veins distended, flanks 
 quivering, head borne to the ground by the weight of the dog, 
 
THE ENGLISHMAN. 276 
 
 and nostrils gushing with blood, the poor horse uttered a slirill 
 neigh, sounding almost like a scream ; but attempted neither to 
 move nor to free himself from his fierce assailant. Exasperated 
 beyond endurance at the condition of his steed, Joyeusc directed 
 his next assault against the hound. 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Blount. " Touch a hair of my dog's hide., 
 and, by Saint Dunstan ! I will no longer stay my hand." 
 
 Joyeuse replied by aiming a downward blow at the Enghsh- 
 man. Blount received the stroke upon the edge of his sword, 
 and returned it with such good effect that the vicomte's rapier Avas 
 beaten from his grasp, and whirled to some distance. 
 
 " Call ofF thy dog, villain," shouted Joyeuse, furiously, " or 
 thou shalt repent it. Ha ! Vive-dieu !" he added, as several of 
 his attendants rode up, " seize him! If he resists, show him no 
 quarter — yield, madman !" 
 
 "Never!" rephed Blount, stoutly, "were they ten times 
 their number. I ask no quarter, and will yield to no man, 
 or men. It shall not be said that an Englishman sued for mercy, 
 while his hand could wield a sword. Come on, then, my 
 masters — one, and all — and try the force of an English arm. 
 Your sires have felt the weight of our blows at Creci and 
 Poitiers — and their sons shall find that our bull-dog breed is not 
 degenerated, or his country disgraced, in the person of Simon 
 Blount." 
 
 " Why do you hesitate ?" thundered Joyeuse. 
 
 " Why do they hesitate ?" echoed Blount, in a taunting tone, at 
 the same time flourishing his tremendous blade with the greatest 
 ease over his head. " Because I am an Englishman. They are six 
 and I am one. They are mounted, I on foot. They have sword 
 and partisan — I, sword only. They are Frenchmen — I am an 
 Englishman. By my troth ! we are fairly matched." 
 
 " Silence him !" cried Joyeuse. 
 
 But this was no such easy matter. The inert, but sturdy 
 Islander was now fairly roused from his habitual lethargy. His 
 arm and tongue were alike in motion. He answered with a roar of 
 defiance. 
 
 " Silence me! quotha. E'en let them, if they can! But they 
 have good reasons for their forbearance. Their memories serve 
 them too fixithfully. They recollect the bygone times of the Regent 
 Bedford — when a French noble was obliged to doif his cap to an 
 English churl. Old Rabelais has told them of our thirst — and at 
 whose cost we allayed it." 
 
 " Cravens ! will ye bear this ?" cried Joyeuse. *' He says truly 
 — ye are six to one." 
 
 " It was the same at Azincourt," retorted Blount, " and yeknovr 
 by whom that day was won." 
 
 " That day was not won by big words, sirrah," rejoined Joyeuse, 
 anaazed at the Englishman's audacity. 
 
 t2 
 
276 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Right !" exclaimed Blount, waving his sword, as if selecting 
 a mark. " I thank you for the hint. I have already talked too 
 much." 
 
 " Despatch this hound with your pike, Baptiste," shouted 
 Joyeuse, " and liberate my wounded charger." 
 
 Ihe man instantly obeyed, and thrust his partisan through the 
 throat of Druid. Severely, but not mortally wounded, the coura- 
 geous brute still maintained his grasp. 
 
 " Hew him in pieces !" vociferated Joyeuse. " It is the nature 
 of the accursed animal to cling thus, while aught of life remains." 
 
 Another man-at-arms now took up the attack ; and in his endea- 
 vour to cleave asunder the dog's skull, which he was only prevented 
 from effecting by the resistance made by his thick hide, struck off 
 his right ear and fore paw. 
 
 Blinded by his own blood, and frightfully mutilated, Druid kept 
 his hold with unflinching tenacity. 
 
 " Saint George for England !" shouted Blount. And as he 
 spoke, his sword whistled through the air, and the man-at-arms 
 fell headless to tlie ground. " Here is a sweet morsel for thee, 
 Druid," he added, with a savage laugh, at the same time spurning 
 with Ills heel the gory head, which had dropped near him. " Come 
 hither, sirrah, quick!" 
 
 Obedient to his master's call, the dog yielded that compliance 
 which he had refused to commands, enforced by sharpest blows; 
 and at once, set free the vicomte's charger. Uttering a piercing 
 cry, the latter animal galloped, with uncontrollable speed, to the 
 farther end of the lists ; where, fortunately, his career was stopped 
 by one of the heralds, and Joyeuse was enabled to dismount. 
 
 Blount's assailants were now reduced to five. But he was on 
 all sides surrounded; and fresh foes were pouring against him from 
 each quarter of the tilt-yard. Undismayed by numbers, and sup- 
 ported by his constitutional phlegm, he viewed his probable end with 
 indifference, and resolved to meet it as became a brave man, and a 
 denizen of that island nook, which, in the words of the greatest of 
 her sons, " breedeth very valiant children." 
 
 " Would I were with my back against a wall," he thought, 
 " I would take far greater odds, and give them ruder welcome than 
 thty bring. As it is, with this long poking-iron so luckily ob- 
 tained, I will carbonado some of their doublets after a fashion in 
 •which they were never slashed before. Gules shall predominate 
 over or and azure in their emblazoned coats." 
 
 And as these reflections ran through his mind, his sword again 
 described a tremendous circle, in the course of which it encountered 
 the various weapons of his antagonists, who were thrusting and 
 striking at him from all points, and finally descending upon the 
 shoulder of the halberdier, by whom Druid had been first wounded, 
 the man, cloven almost to the girdle, fell to the ground. 
 
 " Hubet .'" cried Blount, laughing, and again whirling round his 
 ensanguined blade. 
 
THE ENGLISHSIAN, 277 
 
 In the midst of this gladiatorial display, which was regarded by 
 the beholders, even of the gentler sex, \vith the same fierce and 
 thrilling interest that prevailed amongst the witnesses of the ter- 
 rible entertainments held within a Roman circus, we shall take 
 breath for an instant to describe more fully the weapon used by 
 our Enghsh combatant. We have before adverted to the treatise 
 of Giacomo di Grassi,* — 
 
 -a man of great defence. 
 
 Expert in battles, and in deeds of armes — 
 
 and we shall now give the manner of wielding the two-edged 
 sword, as delivered by the Italian professor. In the words of liis 
 quaint translator we are told that " one may with it (as a galleon 
 among manie gallies) resist manie swords, or other weapons. And 
 it is accustomed to be carried in the citie, as well by night as by 
 day, when it so chaunceth that a few are constrayned to withstand 
 a great manie. And because his weight and bigness require great 
 strength, therefore those only are allotted to the handling thereof 
 which are mlsrhtle and bifjfxe to behould, great and stron^je in 
 bodie, of stout and valiant courage. Who (forasmuch as they 
 are to encounter manie, and to the end they may strike the more 
 safelie, and amaze them with the I'urie of the sword) do altogether 
 use to dehver great edge-blows, downright and reversed, fetching 
 a full circle or compass therein, staying themselves sometimes upon 
 one foot, sometimes on the other, utterlic neglecting to thrust, and 
 persuading tlicmselves that the thrust scrveth to amaze one man 
 onelie, but these edge-blows are of force to encounter manie. 
 The which manner of skirmishing, besides that it is most gallant 
 to behold, being accompanied with exceeding swiftness in deliverie 
 (for otherwise it worketh no such effect) it is also most profitable, 
 not properly of itselfe, but because men considering the furie of 
 the sword, which greatly amaseth them, are not resolute to doe 
 that, which otherwise they could not choose but doe." 
 
 All that Di Grassi has here so graphically depicted, was per- 
 formed by Blount — and more than this ; ibr so great was Iris 
 activity and dexterity — so nimble was he in the management and 
 recovery of his weapon — so tremendous was its sweep, " being of 
 the compass of ten arms or more," that in the space of a few 
 moments he had disabled a third opponent, and beaten off the 
 others. 
 
 " Hurrah!" he shouted, with lusty lungs, tossing, as he spoke, 
 his bonnet into the air; "hurrah! for England, and God save 
 Queen Bess." 
 
 At the same time, as if partaking of his master's triumph, 
 Druid upturned his mangled visage, and uttered a loud and exult- 
 ing howl. 
 
 * Giacomo di Grassi, his True Arte of Defence. First written in Italian by the 
 foresaid author, and Englished by 1. G., Gentleman, 1594. 
 
278 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Poor fellow !" said Blount, liis heart smiting him as he heard 
 the sound. "Thou art sorely hurt; but I have amply avenged 
 thee," he added, looking grimly around; "we can at least die 
 together — thou wouldst never survive thy master." 
 
 The faithful dog understood this appeal. His fierce ho-.vl changed 
 to a piteous moan. 
 
 " Peace, sirrah !" cried Blount, angrily; " no whimpering. Thou 
 art wounded, or I would bestow a buffet on thee for thy cowardice. 
 An English bull-dog— and whine?" 
 
 The red flame in the dog's eyes at this reproof blazed }'et more 
 fiercely, and his fangs were instantly displayed. 
 
 " Why, that is right," cried Blount, in a tone of approval. 
 
 Whereupon, shouldering his gigantic blade, and keeping his 
 eye steadily fixed upon the movements of his foes, though menaced 
 with immediate, and, it would seem, inevitable destruction, in order 
 to show his utter disregard of the peril in which he stood, he began 
 to carol in a rough, but not inharmonious voice, the following 
 homely stave • — 
 
 BruiU 
 
 I. 
 
 Through the world have I wandered wide, 
 With never a wife, or a friend hy my side, 
 Save Druid — a comrade staunch and tried: — 
 
 Troll on away ! 
 Druid, my dog, is a friend in need, 
 Druid, my dog, is a friend indeed, 
 Druid, my dog, is of English breed ! 
 
 More need I say? 
 
 Troll on away 
 
 n. 
 
 Druid would perish my life to save, 
 
 For faithful Druid like fate Fd brave. 
 
 The dog and his master shall find one grave. 
 
 Troll on away ! 
 Life! I heed not its loss a feather! 
 And when black Atropos snaps my tether, 
 She must cut *wice — we'll die together! 
 
 No more I'll say, 
 
 Troll on away! 
 
 In enumerating the good and evil qualities of Henri HI., wo 
 have before mentioned his singular predilection for the canine 
 species. His attachment to dogs was as strong as his aversion to 
 cats. Upon the commencement of the skirmish just described, the 
 royal train, by their sovereign's command, had halted, and Henri's 
 attention, throughout, had been attracted towards Druid, whose 
 courage and fidelity he could not sufficiently admire and applaud. 
 It was owing to this circumstance that Blount remained so long 
 unmolested. 
 
THE ENGLISHMAN. 27 D 
 
 ** What would I give for a follower so faithful i" said the 
 king. " Such a hound were worth a whole pack of barbets and 
 spaniels, with my two favourites, Citron and Chatelard, at their 
 head. I must possess him. Miron will speedily heal his wounds. 
 But how shall we get rid of liis master, without doing the dog 
 further mischief ?" 
 
 " Let your arqucbussiers fire upon the knave, my liege," said 
 the Due de Nevers, in a low tone; " and, if a stray ball shou/d Yeach. 
 the Bearnais, your majesty will have an enemy the less. ^laurevert 
 is behind us, armed witli the same caUver with which Coligni was 
 wounded. A look will suffice for him." 
 
 " Thanks, fair cousin," returned Henri, " but we are in no such 
 hurry. We see no reason to suspect treachery on the part of our 
 brother of Navarre. He appears as much diverted as ourself with 
 this fray. Besides," he added, smiling, " we have not yet con- 
 sulted our mother upon the expediency of a step so important in its 
 consequences." 
 
 " I will answer for her majesty's approval," returned the duke, 
 hastily. 
 
 ''Yimf exclaimed the king, with a look of surprise. "Are 
 vou our mother's confidant. Monsieur le Due ? What reason 
 have you to suppose she would desire the death of the Bear- 
 nais ?" 
 
 " Because," replied Chicot, boldly, "he is like the wrong king 
 unexpectedly turned up at Primero ; he spoils the order of the 
 cards, and ruins the game." 
 
 " Parbleu ! what game, compere?" demanded the monarch. 
 
 " Your majesty forgets the dog you are anxious to save," inter- 
 rupted the duke, darting an angry glance at the jester; " another 
 moment and it will be too late." 
 
 " Right !" cried Henri; " command yon men-at-arms to stay their 
 swords, and let a company of arqucbussiers advance." 
 
 The king's orders were instantly obeyed. The soldiers, who had 
 rushed to the assistance of tlieir comrades, reluctantly withdrew. 
 A dozen arqucbussiers, attired in richly-emblazoned doublets of 
 crimson frieze, girded in at the waist by broad leathern belts, from 
 which depended matches of lighted tow; with great ruffs round their 
 throats, pale green hose upon their lower limbs, and roses of ribbons, 
 almost as large as the shoes they covered, upon their feet : each 
 carrying on his right arm a huge bell-mouthed musquet, and on his 
 left a forked staff intended to support it — this troop, headed by 
 jSIaurevert, the hired assassin of Charles IX. (and surnamed 
 le Tueur du Roi), swiftly advanced, ranged themselves in two lines 
 by the side of the king, planted their forks in the ground, pointed 
 their artillery against the Englishman's breast, and awaited only 
 the royal mandate to fire. 
 
 Blount witnessed these proceedings without dismay. When he 
 
280 CKICHTON. 
 
 saw the death-dealing tubes levelled against him, he stooped to the 
 ground, and catching Druid in his arms, breathed the words of his 
 song — 
 
 The dog and his master shall find one grave ! — 
 
 fully prepared to meet his fate. 
 
 "Hold!" exclaimed Henri; "some fiend hath put it into the 
 knave's head to defeat our object. Bid him surrender at discretion, 
 Maurevert. Once get possession of his dog, and deal with him as 
 you list. But I charge you, on your life, do the animal no further 
 injury." 
 
 Maurevert stepped forwards. Blount, however, sturdily refused to 
 yield up his sword. 
 
 At this moment, and while Henri, ever irresolute when resolu- 
 tion was required, hesitated to give the signal to the arquebussiers, 
 Crichton rode up. "I will disarm him, sire." he said, " if I have 
 your majesty's permission to do so." 
 
 " Grammercy ! mon cher, you have our permission at once, 
 and to slay him, too, if it please you, provided you harm not the 
 
 " One will scarcely succumb without the othc-r, I suspect, my 
 liege," replied the Scot. " We shall see." 
 
 Saying which, he dismounted, and giving his steed to the charge 
 of an attendant, advanced towards Blount. 
 
 "Are you mad?" he said, sternly, as he arrived within a few 
 paces of the Englishman, " that you adopt this braggart posture? 
 Yield ! and I may yet preserve your life." 
 
 " I should hold it foul scorn were such words to pass my 
 lips, even at your bidding, Chevalier Crichton," replied Blount, 
 doggedly.^ 
 
 " Fool !" said the Scot, in a low and significant tone, " this 
 »s but a feint. Throw down your sword. I will be your safe- 
 guard." 
 
 " Were I to do so it would seem as if I yielded," rejoined 
 Blount; "and I would rather die a thousand deaths than these 
 accursed Frenchmen should be able to crow over me." 
 
 " Defend yourself, then," exclaimed Crichton, plucking his 
 rapier from the scabbard. 
 
 " If I fall by your hands I shall die the death I would have 
 chosen," replied Blount. " Yet think not I will perish tamely. 
 I hold It too good luck to cross swords with you, not to approve 
 myself worthy of the honour. But our blades are ill-matched. I 
 cannot fight without equal arms." 
 
 " I have helm and corslet," answered Crichton ; " you have 
 neither buff jerkin, nor steel cap. The advantage is on my 
 side." 
 
 '' Down, Druid," said Blount, quitting his hold of the dog, 
 
THE ENGLISHMAN. 281 
 
 " Stir not — use neither tooth nor claw. Chevalier Crichton," 
 he added, in a tone of some emotion, " if I fall — this hound — " 
 " I understand," replied Crichton. " I will be his master." 
 " No !" said Blount, " I meant not that — despatch him." 
 " Waste no more words in this idle parley," returned Crichton, 
 fiercely. " My blows are for men. not dogs. Again, I say, defend 
 yourself." 
 
 " Saint George for England !" shouted Blount, fetching a con> 
 pass with his sword that dazzled the eyes of the beholders like a 
 flash of lightning. But rapid as was this circle — not so swift was 
 it as the corresponding movement of the Scot. Instead of endea- 
 vouring to avoid the blow, or to encounter its force, where it was 
 most dangerous, at a distance, he at once rushed in upon tlie 
 Englishman, met the edge of his weapon in mid sweep with a 
 stoccado, and nothing daunted that his own rapier was hurled 
 from his grasp, clutched with his left hand the wrist of his 
 adversary, and with his right fearlessly catching hold of liis 
 enormous blade, by a violent downward jerk wrested it from his 
 gripe. 
 
 Thus far Druid had obeyed his master's orders, and crouclied 
 inofTensively at his feet — but now instinctively comprehending his 
 danger, he flew with such violence against Crichton's legs, that had 
 they not been plated in steel, he must liave withdrawn liis attack 
 from Blount to defend himself from his follower. " Lie still, sir," 
 cried the Englishman, furiously. And setting his foot upon the dog's 
 back, he pressed him, notwitlistanding his desperate struggles, 
 forcibly to the ground. " Your are the victor," he continued, ad- 
 dressing Crichton, " strike!" 
 
 " I have accompHshed all I desired," replied the Scot, " in dis- 
 arming you." 
 
 " I will not yield," said Blount, sullenly. " You had better finish 
 me." 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered, when his arms were suddenly 
 seized from behind by a couple of halberdiers, who had stolen upon 
 him unawares; and a stout sword-belt, slipped over his wrists, and 
 drawn tightly together, prevented any further resistance on his part 
 At the same moment, a sash, tied in a noose, and flung over the head 
 of Druid by a third man-at-arms, made the brave animal likewise 
 a prisoner. 
 
 " Harm neither," said Crichton, addressing the guards ; " but 
 await his majesty's pleasure — and see ! he approaches." 
 
 'I Draw near to me, I pray you, Chevaher Crichton," said Blount, 
 gazing earnestly at the Scot, " 1 have something to communicate, 
 wliich, in my confusion, I had forgotten." 
 
 " I know what you would say," returned Crichton, making a 
 gesture of silence; " all is lost I" 
 
 "The devil!" exclaimed Blount, with a look of disappointment, 
 
282 CRICHTON. 
 
 "my labour then has been in vain. It was nerely to bring you 
 these tidings that 1 adventured witliin the lists." 
 
 " Heed not that, good Blount, but pacify your dog," said Crich- 
 ton, noticing, with uneasiness, the violent efforts of the animal to 
 free himself, by which he was well-nigh strangled ; " on his life 
 hangs your own." 
 
 " True," replied Blount, taking the words literally, " it does so." 
 And he addressed an angry declamation to Druid, who instantly 
 became passive in the hands of his captor. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE TWO HENRIS. 
 
 Prtmicr Scldat. Le Bearnais a pcut-etre promis de retourner a confesse. Ca 
 §erait heureux, tout de nieme — il me fait I'effet d'uu bon compere de roi! 
 
 Deuxieme Soldat. Le notre n'a pas mauvais air iion plus sur sa grande jument 
 • — mais il sent trop le jasmin. 
 
 La Mort de Henri III. 
 
 Unwilling to hold any private conference with the King of 
 Navarre, until he should receive some information of Catherine's 
 disposition towards him; and "perplexed in the extreme," that 
 no message had, as yet, arrived from her majesty, Henri HI., 
 uncertain what line of policy he ought to pursue, and glad of any 
 pretext to gain further time, instead of advancing to question the 
 Bourbon, as he had originally intended, bent his course towards 
 the captive Englishman. This plan, however, was defeated. 
 Henri of Navarre, yielding tardy compliance with the earnest 
 solicitations of Rosni, who represented, in the most moving 
 terms, the perils and calamities in which his pr-2sent fatal obstinacy 
 must necessarily involve himself, his people, ctvid his religion, came 
 suddenly to the resolution of throwing himself upon the generosity 
 of his royal brother. Accordingly, when Henri HI. turned aside 
 to confer with Blount, he stuck spurs into his charger, and rode 
 towards him. 
 
 A greeting of apparently fraternal warmth passed between the 
 two monarchs. Though each, in secret, distrusted the other, both 
 deemed it prudent to assume an air of unboTuded confidence and 
 goodwill. Dissimulation formed no part of the Bourbon's frank 
 and loyal character. But his long experienc-e of the perfidy and 
 insincerity of the race of Valois, while it prevented him from being 
 Henri's dupe, satisfied him that any advantage which might accrue 
 to him from the interview, could only be attained by the employ- 
 ment of similar artifice. Throwing himself, therefore, instantly 
 from his steed, he attempted, with the greatest cordiaUty, to take 
 
THE TWO HEN*RIS. 283 
 
 the hand of the king, with the intention of proffering the cus- 
 lomary sahitation. 
 
 Henri III., however, drew back his steed as he approached. 
 "Your pardon, my brother," lie said, with a gracious smile; "we 
 Arould cut ofF our right hand could we suspect it of heresy, nor 
 can wc consent to take yours, tainted as it is with that contagious 
 leprosy, unless we first receive assurance from your lips that you 
 are come hither, Hke the prodigal son, to confess your indiscretions, 
 to implore our forgiveness, and to solicit to be received once more 
 \nto the indulgent bosom of our holy Catholic, Apostolic, and 
 Roman church." 
 
 " Sire," replied the Bourbon, "I own that I am in much the 
 same predicament as the unfortunate wight to whom you have 
 likened me. I have, at this moment, more nose than kingdom — 
 more care than coin — more hope than fiaith — more regard for your 
 majesty than the religion you propose — " 
 
 " And more regard for your body than your soul, I fear, my 
 brother," interrupted Henri HI., gravely shaking his head, and 
 telling a bead or two upon his rosary. 
 
 " That is to say, he has more regard for his mistress than his 
 queen," said Chicot. " You are right, compere. Our Bearnais 
 will never be saved unless the good old faith of the Gentiles comes 
 round again, and new altars are raised at Cnydos and Paphos, to 
 the goddess he worships." 
 
 '' Certcs, thou malapert knave, I am a heretic in no creed in which 
 beauty is concerned," replied the Bourbon, laughing; " and amid 
 yon gallery of fair saints, there is not one to whom I would refuse 
 adoration." 
 
 " I could point out one," cried the jester. 
 
 " I defy thee," said the Bourbon. 
 
 " Your queen !" returned Chicot. 
 
 Even Henri HI. could not help joining in the mirth occasioned 
 oy this sally of the jester. 
 
 " Ribald !" exxlaimed the Bourbon, laughing louder than the 
 rest; '' thy fool's cap alone protects thee from my resentment." 
 
 " My fool's calotte is a better defence than many a knight's 
 casque," answered Chicot. " For the love I bear her majesty of 
 Navarre, I will exchange it for thine, and throw my marotte into 
 the bargain. Thou wilt need both on thy next encounter with 
 the Admirable Crichton." 
 
 " Wilt thou throw thyself into tlie bargain, knave," asked the 
 Bourbon, " and follow my fortunes?" 
 
 " Of a surety, no!" replied the jester. " That were to quit the 
 master for the valet; the provost for the prisoner ; the falconer for 
 the quarry." 
 
 " Pardieu ! compere," said Henri HI., in a tone of raillery, 
 ** art thou so blind to thy own interest as to tarry in our 
 
284 CRICHTON. 
 
 service, when an offer so brilliant is made thee by our brother 
 of Navarre ? Bethink thee of the eminence to which thy wisdom 
 aird decorum must, necessarily, promote thee, amongst the 
 synods of the Huguenots, and the sage councils of the court of 
 Pau!" 
 
 " I never leap in the dark, gossip," replied Chicot. " It were the 
 province of a wise man to go in quest of danger. I am a fool, and 
 prefer safe quarters at home." 
 
 " Wholesome advice may be gathered even from the mouth of 
 fools, you perceive, brother," said Henri IH. " May I now 
 inquire to what fortunate circumstance I owe the unexpected 
 happiness of this visit? I have been singularly misinformed 
 about you and your proceedings. I am told you are an enemy 
 — I find you our best of friends. I learn that you are at the 
 head of a hostile army, putting my towns and subjects to fire and 
 sword — I find you as blithe companion as ever, and almost 
 unattended. My last accounts are, that you are barricaded within 
 the walls of Pau, or Nerac; my next are gathered from your own 
 lips within the walls of the Louvre. See how one may be de- 
 ceived." 
 
 " Your majesty is not deceived in my expressions of friendship," 
 rephed the Bourbon, cordially. " Will it please you to command 
 your gentleman to stand further off?" 
 
 " Excuse me, my brother, if I venture to retain my atten- 
 dants," replied Henri HI. " I am curious to question this bold 
 knave," he added, glancing at Blount. " You may reserve 
 your tale, if you please, for the ear of our confessor, whom you 
 will permit me to recommend, in the hope of accomplishing your 
 conversion." 
 
 " Your confessor, sire !" ejaculated the Bourbon, knitting his 
 brow. 
 
 " And at the tall of the priest the headsman," added Chicot. 
 " You will not then fail to profit by his instruction, and for the 
 third time get rid of any scruples of conscience. The laconic 
 message of his late Majesty Charles IX., to your cousin, Henri of 
 Conde, had other merits besides its conciseness." 
 
 " What message was that, gossip !" asked Henri HI., ffecting 
 ignorance. 
 
 " Messe, mort ou Bastile !" replied the jester. " Our Bearnais 
 will remember it by the token, that about the same time he abjured 
 his own Calvinistic heresies." 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris ! thou scurrilous varlet," cried the Bouroon, 
 fiercely; " if thou darest to push thy mischievous pleasantry 
 further, not even thy own insignificance, or thy royal master's 
 presence, shall prevent my inflicting due chastisement upon 
 thee." 
 
 Alarmed by the menacing aspect of the King of Navarre, 
 
THE TWO HENRIS. 28D 
 
 with a grimace of mixed terror and defiance, Chicot, like a 
 snarling cur, apprehensive of the heels of a noble steed he 
 has annoyed beyond endurance, now turned tail, and retreated 
 to the protection of his master, who was secretly delighted 
 with this specimen of his skill in the " art of ingeniously tor- 
 menting." 
 
 " Since you decline answering my inquiries respecting the 
 Tnotive of your visit, brother," said Henri III., in his blandest 
 accents, " I will not press the point. But I trust you will 
 not object to remaining near my person till I return to the 
 banquet?" 
 
 " Your majesty has only to command me." 
 
 " And as you have no attendants excepting the Baron de Rosni, 
 I give you your choice of six of my own gentlemen, who will 
 continue constantly by your side." 
 
 " I understand your majesty. I am a prisoner." 
 
 " I did not say so, brother. Choose your attendants." 
 
 " My choice is readily made, sire. I shall name but one 
 — the Chevalier Crichton. I leave tlie nomination of the others to 
 him." 
 
 " Fcetium hubet in cornii,^' muttered Chicot, " a wittol's 
 choice !" 
 
 "You could not have made a better election," observed 
 Henri III., with a smile. 
 
 " I think not," said the Bourbon. 
 
 " I am sure not," added Chicot. " Forgiveness becomes a Chris- 
 tian prince. Madame Marguerite will highly applaud your gene- 
 rosity and placability." 
 
 " Peace, droll !" said Henri HI. " And now, brother," he 
 continued, in the same honeyed tone he had pi'cviously adopted, 
 and which by those who knew him Avas more dreaded than the 
 most violent bursts of indignation, " as the jousts are at an end, 
 and you will have no further occasion for it, I entreat you to 
 resign your sword to the custody of him whom you have appointed 
 your principal attendant." 
 
 " jNIy sword, sire?" exclaimed the Bourbon, recoiling. 
 
 " Your sword, brother," repeated Henri III., blandly. 
 
 The King of Navarre looked around. On all sides he was invested 
 by danger. The whole circle of the area in which he stood bristled 
 with pikes and spears. Above the halberts of the Switzers rose 
 the javelins of the Scottish guards; and above the javelins of the 
 Scots gleamed the long lances of D'Epernon's gallant Gascon troop. 
 Here was stationed a company of archers — there a band of arque- 
 bussiers. On the right were arrayed the youthful nobles, under the 
 command of the Vicomte de Joyeuse, readily to be distinguished 
 by their gorgeous apparel and fluttering pennons ; on the left 
 was drawn out the sumptuous retinue of the Duo de Nevers. Nor 
 
386 CRICHTON. 
 
 was this all. A nearer circle of the king's body-guard encompassed 
 him. Every hand was upon a sword-hilt — every glance fixed upon 
 him As he carelessly noted all this hostile preparation, the Bour- 
 bon turned towards his counsellor Rosni, who stood leaning upon 
 the handle of his sword immediately behind him. Not a word — 
 not a sign were exchanged between them. But the monarch under- 
 stood the meaning of the cold stern look of his counsellor. At 
 this moment, the rolling of drums, mingled with the sound of 
 other martial instruments, was heard from the outer courts of the 
 palace. 
 
 "Hark! the tambour!" exclaimed Henri III.; "fresh troops 
 have entered the Louvre." 
 
 " By your command, sire?" asked the Bourbon, in a tone of 
 displeasure. 
 
 " Our subjects are careful of our safety," answered Henri HI., 
 evasively. 
 
 " They ought to be so, sire," replied the Bourbon; " your majesty 
 has well earned their love; and when were the people of France 
 ungrateful? But against whom are all these precautions taken? Is 
 the Louvre in a state of siege, or have the burgesses of your good 
 city of Paris broken into revolt?" 
 
 " No, brother, our good city is at present free from faction or 
 tumult; and it is our intention (with the aid of Heaven) to main- 
 tain its tranquillity undisturbed." 
 
 " You cannot suppose I would be the instigator of disorder, 
 sire," said the Bourbon. " I have drawn the sword to protect the 
 rights of my people, and to uphold their persecuted creed, not to 
 wage war upon your majesty. On any terms which shall secure to 
 my subjects the immunities, and religious toleration they seek, I 
 will, at once, enter into a compact of truce with your majesty, and 
 place myself in your hands as a hostage for the due observance of 
 its conditions." 
 
 " Sire!" exclaimed Rosni, grasping his sovereign's arm, "each 
 word you utter is a battle lost." 
 
 " Your majesty will not now suspect me of disloyalty," continued 
 the Bourbon, disregarding the interruption. 
 
 " I suspect nothing, brother — nothing whatever," said Henri HI., 
 hastily; " but I will sign no truce — enter into no compact, which 
 shall favour, or appear to favour, the dissemination of heresy and 
 sedition. To tolerate such a faith were to approve it. And I 
 would rather command a second St. Barthelemi; rather imitate 
 the example of my brother, Philip II. of Spain ; or pursue the 
 course pointed out to me by my cousin of Guise and the gentlemen 
 of the league, than in any way countenance a religion so hateful. 
 I am too good a Catholic for that, brother. My reign has been 
 (for my sins) disturbed by three great troubles. My brother of 
 Anjou and his faction; the Balafre and his leaguers; you and youi 
 friends of the reform." 
 
THE TWO IIENRIS. 287 
 
 "Sire!" 
 
 *' I know not which of the three has been the most vexatious. 
 Anjou with his claims; Guise with his pretensions; or you with 
 your exactions. I shall be glad to put an end to one of these 
 annoyances." 
 
 *' I have exacted nothing but what was my due, sire," replied 
 the Bourbon, bluntly. 
 
 " So saith Anjou; so saith the Guise; so say all rebels." 
 
 " Rebels, sire!" 
 
 "Fret not yourself about a word, brother. Your own con- 
 duct will best prevent the application of the term, if you deem 
 it injurious." 
 
 " Sire," replied the Bourbon, drawing himself up to his full 
 height, and regarding his royal brother with a glance of undisguised 
 scorn and defiance, " you have done me deep wrong in stigmatising 
 me as a rebel. It is false. I am none. Rashness, insane rashness 
 — if you please, is all that can be laid to my charge. I came hither 
 attended only by the Baron de Rosni, whose person, as my ambas- 
 sador, guarded by your passport, is sacred : and as I came I should 
 have departed, had not an accident occasioned my di;^covery. No 
 thought of treason was in my breast. Nor had I other motive save 
 a desire to splinter a lance with one whose prowess I doubted, with 
 as much justice, it appears, as your majesty now exhibits in ques- 
 tioning my sincerity." 
 
 " You mistake me, brother. Heaven forbid I should question 
 your fealty." 
 
 *' Your actions contradict your words, sire," returned the Bour- 
 bon. "It is evident from the threatening demeanour of your 
 attendants, from the hostile disposition of your troops, as well as 
 from the orders you have issued, tliat you do distrust me; and that 
 you have more reason to apprehend my influence with the popu- 
 lace, in the event of an insurrection, than you care to admit. Your 
 alarm is groundless. Had I come as an enemy, I should not have 
 come alone. I am the contriver of no plot, the leader of no faction; 
 nor, amid yon vast assemblage could I point out the features of a 
 single adherent, though I nothing fear, if rny war-cry were once 
 raised, I sliould find friends enow to rally round my standard. Yes- 
 ter-morn, with but a dozen followers, I entered the gates of Paris: 
 to-day, with but one, those of the Louvre. And to-moiTOw's 
 dawn shall find me and my scanty train far on our way to my ter- 
 ritories, if I have your majesty's permission to depart peaceably." 
 
 " In the mean time, brother," said Henri III., " I would gladly 
 learn what induced you to quit those territories to which you 
 are now apparently so anxious to return? I can scarcely flatter 
 myself that a desire to hold this interview with me was your sole 
 motive." 
 
 " So far from it, sire, that I repeat it was my intention to 
 have remained strictly incognito, had not m}' own heedlessnesa 
 
288 CRICHTON'- 
 
 betrayed me. The object of my hair-brained journey I will no 
 longer disguise. When I deserted the Louvre," he added, his 
 brow relaxinsr to a slight smile, " there were two things which, in 
 my haste, I left behind me." 
 
 " Ah ! what were they, brother?" 
 
 " The mass and my wife, sire. For the loss of the former I felt 
 little concern. The want of the latter was a more serious grievance. 
 And having failed in my previous remonstrance, made through 
 the Sieur Duras, I thought the fault might rest with my envoy. 
 Accordingly, I resolved — " 
 
 " To come yourself," interrupted Henri III., laughing heartily. 
 ** A wise determination, certes. Still, I fear your suit has proved 
 as unsuccessful as ever, though backed by your own solicitations." 
 
 " His majesty is certain of gaining his cause, now that he has 
 employed the Chevalier Crichton as an advocate," cried Chicot, 
 '■' It is exactly three years since the Sieur Duras came to Paris on 
 this fool's errand, and then Bussy D'Amboise sent him back again, 
 like Panurge, ' avec une puce a Tureille.^ The same result would 
 have followed his own application had it not been for this master- 
 stroke. Of all men Henri of Navarre ought to be the last to forget 
 the maxim, that — 
 
 A husband out of season 
 
 Is a husband without reason !" 
 
 " Let not these taunts annoy you, brother," said Henri III. 
 " You shall have both your lost matters. But I cannot restore the 
 one without the other." 
 
 " I will have neither, sire." 
 
 " You are changeable, brother." 
 
 " It may be so, sire," replied the Bourbon, coldly; " but I have 
 the same aversion to a faithless woman that I have to a consecrated 
 wafer." 
 
 " I have at all events made you the offer," said Henri III., 
 angrily. " And now, Chevalier Crichton," he continued, addressing 
 the Scot, who had remained near hira, a silent, but deeply inte- 
 rested observer of the scene — " advance ! — arrest him !" 
 
 These words, uttered in a sharp, abrupt tone, produced a 
 startling effect upon the group. Saint-Luc and D'Epernon drew 
 their swords, closing in on either side of their sovereign. The 
 Bourbon uttered a single exclamation, and placed his hand upon 
 the hilt of his own weapon. His arm, however, was again forcibly 
 withheld by Rosni. 
 
 "Remember, sire," said the baron, m a deep whisper, "your 
 sacred pledge to your people, and to your God. One false step, 
 and your subjects are without a ruler — your church Avithout a. 
 defender. Be warned !" 
 
 " Quern Deus vult perdere prius deme7itat" said Chicot. 
 
 Crichton meanwhile stirred not, but watched steadily the move* 
 
THE TWO HENKIS. 289 
 
 raents of the Kin;^ of Navarre. " ]Must I repeat my orders, 
 messirc ?" asked Henri III. 
 
 " No, sire," replied tlie Bourbon. " I will relieve the Chevalier 
 Crichton from liis embarrassment. Here is my sword." 
 
 The Scot received it with a profound salutation. 
 
 "Keep it," continued the Bourbon; "you need not blush to 
 bear it." 
 
 " I blush to receive it, sire," returned Crichton, scarcely able to 
 repress the emotions swelling within his bosom. 
 
 " And now for the other captive and his dog," said Henri HI. 
 
 " Hold, sire," exclaimed the Bourbon; "ere this conference is 
 broken up, I have a secret of importance to disclose to you. I 
 would willingly liave imparted it to your ears alone. But since 
 you refuse me a private audience, I am compelled to proclaim it 
 openly." 
 
 At this moment the shifting glances of Henri IH. fell upon the 
 Due de Nevers. The latter was evidently ill at ease, and approach- 
 ing his sovereing, said, in a low emphatic tone, 
 
 " This interview were better concluded, sire." 
 
 " I think otlierwise, lair cousin," returned the king, wliose 
 curiosity was awakened. " ^lay I venture to trust myself 
 alone with him for a few moments?" he whispered. "He is 
 unarmed." 
 
 " By no mean?, sire," returned the duke; " he lias a poignard." 
 
 "True," returned Henri IH. ; "and he is not unskilful in its 
 use, as I have seen. His strength, too, greatly exceeds my own 
 — and tliough hi? bearing is frank and loyal, it were most imprudent 
 implicitly to confide in him. — Speak, brother," he continued, aloud. 
 " I am impatient to hear your disclosure." 
 
 "Your majesty drives me to the course 1 now adopt," returned 
 the Bourbon, liaughtily; " the shame I would willingly spare the 
 queen your mother I will no longer spare her." 
 
 " Will you endure this insolence, sire?" said the Due de Nevers, 
 alarmed at the King of'Navarre's commencement. 
 
 "Heed him not," returned Henri HI.; " her majesty will give 
 herself little concern about his reproaches." 
 
 " What I would have requested," continued the Bourbon, who 
 had paused for a moment, " I now demand. In the name of my 
 cousin, Henri I. of Buurbon, Prince of Conde, whose person I 
 here represent, I require from your majesty the liberation of his 
 sister, unjustly detained a captive within the Louvre by the queen- 
 mother, Catherine de Medicis." 
 
 "Mort-dieu ! brother," exclaimed Henri HI., " you are strangely 
 deceived in this matter. Our mother has no such captive." 
 
 " Contest not the point, sire," whispered the Due de Nevers, 
 who was now relieved from his own apprehension. " Promise her 
 liberation." 
 
 U 
 
290 CrJCHTON. 
 
 " Your majesty lias been, designedly, kept in ignorance of the 
 circumstance," said the Bourbon. 
 
 " WeU, brother," returned Henri III., with affected bonhommie, 
 "if your representation be correct, we pass our word for the free- 
 '3om of the princess." 
 
 As this speech was uttered, a shght exclamation of joy escaped 
 Gniehton. But avIicu the king glanced towards him, his eyes were 
 riveted upon tlie Bourbon's sword. 
 
 " Add to your boon, sire," said the King of Navarre, " for 
 which I thank you as heartily as if my own liberty had been in- 
 cluded in it, and suffer the princess to set forth, at once, from the 
 Louvre, under your safe conduct. My own escort shall, with your 
 majesty's permission, act as her convoy to Henri of Conde." 
 
 " Why this extreme urgency, brother?" asked Henri HI., doubt- 
 
 " Because," replied the Bourbon, " while she remains in the 
 pov?»er of C.itherine de Medicis, her life, her honour are in 
 danger." 
 
 *' Beware liow you scandalise our mother," returned Henri IH., 
 with warmtli. " These are dark accusations." 
 
 " They arc made in broad daylight before your assembled nobles, 
 sire, and will not be unremembered." 
 
 " Nor unreq^uited," answered Henri HI., frowning. " Proceed, 
 brother." 
 
 " I am a soldier, not a courtier, sire," continued the Bourbon. 
 " My steel corslet is seldom exchanged for a silken pourpolnt; — my 
 rude speech as seldom takes the garb of flattery. Your majesty 
 will bear In mind that you have forced me to make this charge in 
 public. I am prepared to answer to the queen your mother for my 
 accusation, and to approve it. Your royal word is passed for the 
 liberation of the princess. That is enough for me." 
 
 " What are we to think of this mystery?" demanded Henri IH. 
 of the Due de Nevers. 
 
 " That Ills Majesty of Navarre's wits, as well as his discretion, 
 have deserted him, my liege," returned the duke. " I am suffi- 
 ciently in the confidence of her majesty the queen-mother, to 
 issert, unhesitatingly, that there is no such princess." 
 
 " You are sure of it, fair cousin ?" 
 
 " As of your majesty's existence — as of the presence of yon 
 Bernese bear." 
 
 " You have already relieved me. I began to fear that I had, 
 in some way or other, committed myself." 
 
 The Bourbon, meanwhile, conferred an instant apart with his 
 counsellor. " Thou Avilt command this escort, Rosni," whispered 
 he, "and say to the Prince of Conde that — " 
 
 *' I quit not your majesty's side for any prince or princess," in- 
 terrupted Rosni. 
 
THE TWO UENRIS. 291 
 
 • How, sir ?' 
 
 " Spare voiir frowns, sire. I can be as obstinate, on occasion, as 
 your majesty." 
 
 " Stay with me, then, my faithful friend," replied the Bourbon, 
 pressing the hand of his counsellor, " and let our recent difference 
 be forgotten. Thou hast my full pardon." 
 
 " When your majesty lias obtained your own forgiveness, it 
 will be time enough to extend the same grace to me," rejoined 
 Rosni, bluntly. 
 
 " Chevalier Crlchton," said the Bourbon, turning in displeasure 
 from his confidant, "will you escort the Princess of Conde to her 
 brother ?" 
 
 The Scot's colour mounted to his temples at the proposal. 
 " Your majesty has already appointed me to the post of your 
 chief attendant," he returned, in a voice of constrained calmness; 
 " I cannot accept both ofHces." 
 
 " Nor can I consent to part with you, mon cher," said 
 Henri III., approvingly. " To put an end to this discussion, 
 brother," he continued, addressing the Bourbon, " if you will find 
 the princess, I will undertake to find the convoy." 
 
 " A la bonne heurc !" cried the King of Navarre. " My task will 
 be readily performed. Behold her!" he added, pointing to the 
 royal gallery. 
 
 " Behold whom ! — you cannot mean ? — '' 
 
 " In the queen of the lists — in the fair Esclairmonde your 
 uKijcsty beholds the sister of Henri of Conde — my cousin — your 
 cousin, sire." 
 
 " Mort et damnation! Esclairmonde my cousin! Esclairmonde 
 a Princess of Conde ! — Were it so — but you do not, cannot expect 
 us to credit your assertion, unsupported by proof, upon a point 
 like this ?" 
 
 " I have proofs, sire, — proofs of her illustrious birth — of her 
 capture as an infant by Tavannes — of her detention within the 
 Louvre by Catherine — proofs which will carry conviction even to 
 the mind of your majesty." 
 
 " Produce them, brother, produce them !" cried Henri III., 
 trembling with agitation. 
 
 " Let your guard, by sound of trump, summon before your 
 presence Mcssire Florent Chretien, a preacher of the Reformed 
 Faith and the spiritual adviser of the princess ; he is within the 
 Louvre — he is in possession of these proofs." 
 
 " Ha ! think you to delude us by the devices of the evil one — of 
 his minister?" vociferated Henri III. " Think you we would 
 place the fabrications of this miserable hypocrite against the word 
 of our mother? Think you we \n\\ endure the presence of a 
 heretic, and a propagator of heresy, knowing him to be such ? 
 Let him take heed how he approaches us — how he defiles the hem 
 
 u 2 
 
292 CRICHTON. 
 
 of our garment — how he pollutes our palace. The Greve hath an 
 axe — the Pre-aux-clercs a stake — Alontfaucon a gibbet. He shall 
 have his choice of the three ; the sole grace a false and perjured 
 Huguenot may look for at our hands." 
 
 " Be all three his portion and mine, if he deceives you, sire," 
 returned the Bourbon. " Let him be summoned. I will abide 
 the issue." 
 
 " Be it so, ' replied Henri IH., as if he had suddenly decided 
 upon the coinse he ought to pursue. 
 
 " Your L^^.ard must seek him within the dungeons of the 
 Louvre," sax. Crichton. " He is a prisoner." 
 
 " A priso.a r !" echoed the Bourbon, starting. 
 
 " A prisonot !" repeated Henri IH., joyfully. 
 
 " He is in t.\'' hands of Catherine de Medicis," continued the 
 Scot. 
 
 " And the documents?" demanded the King of Navarre, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Are also in her majesty's possession," returned Crichton. 
 " Florent Chretien is adjudged to the stake." 
 
 "Will you now forgive yourself, sire?" asked Rosni, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 "Away!" ejaculated the King of Navarre, stamping his foot 
 upon the ground with wrath. " Ventre-saint-gris ! is this a season 
 for reproaches ? Your majesty, I am well assured," he added, 
 indignantly appealing to his royal brother, " will see fit to reverse 
 this most unjust judgment. Chretien is innocent of all crime." 
 
 " Of all, save that of heresy, it may be," returned Henri IH., 
 " than which no guilt is more heinous and unpardonable in our 
 eyes, and of which, even by your own showing, he is culpable. 
 Our mother has acted in conformity with our wishes, and in 
 furtherance of the interests of the true faith, in condemning this 
 Huguenot preacher to expiate his offences against Heaven at the 
 stake; and, were our sanction needful, it should be readily ac- 
 corded." 
 
 " Vive la messe .'" cried the courtiers. 
 
 " You hear, brother," said Henri IH., smiling. " Such are the 
 sentiments of every good Catholic." 
 
 " Will you violate the majesty of your own laws, sire ?" de- 
 manded the Bourbon. " Have you no regard for the sanctity of 
 the pledges voluntarily given for the security of your Protestant 
 subjects .''" 
 
 " Hcereticis fides iion servanda est" rejoined Henri IH., coldly. 
 
 " It follows then, sire," said the Bourbon, " that your royal 
 word, passed to me for the liberation of the Princess Esclairmonde, 
 is not binding upon your pliant conscience? — ha !" 
 
 " Satisfy me that she is a princess, and I will keep my faith 
 with you, albeit you are a heretic, brother. Produce your proofs, 
 and I repeat, she is free." 
 
THE TWO HENRIS. 293 
 
 " Your majesty may safely make that promise now," returned 
 the Bourbon, scornfully. 
 
 " If / produce those proofs ere midnight, will you fulfil your 
 word, sire ?" asked Crichton, advancing. 
 
 Henri III. was visibly embarrassed. 
 
 " You cannot retreat, my liege," whispered the Due de Nevers. 
 
 " But, fair cousin," returned the king, in an under tone, '* wf. 
 would rather part with our crown than Esclairmonde — and this 
 accursed Scot would outwit the devil." 
 
 *' He will not outwit Catherine de Medicis, sire," said the duke. 
 •' I will put her upon her guard." 
 
 " How says your majesty?" demanded the Bourbon. 
 
 " Our word is already passed," returned Henri HI. 
 
 " Enough !" said Crichton, retiring. 
 
 At this moment the Vicomte de Joyeuse approached. 
 
 " I am the bearer of a billet from the queen-mother, sire," h\. 
 said, presenting a sealed despatch to the king. 
 
 " Pcste !" exclaimed Henri HI., as he glanced over the contents 
 of the letter. "We have been too precipitate, fair cousin," con- 
 tinued he, addressing the Due de Nevers. " Her majesty counsels 
 us to treat the Bearnais with all courtesy and consideration." 
 
 The duke replied by a shrug of the shoulder. 
 
 "Nay, this is not all," added the king; " she entreats us to re- 
 store his sword." 
 
 " And your majesty will, of course, comply with her request." 
 
 " Pardieu ! no, cousin." 
 
 " Remember the fair Esclairmonde, sire." 
 
 " Ah ! you are right," returned Henri HI., hastily. " That 
 name at once decides me. I know not what credit is to be attached 
 to this story of the lovely demoiselle's birth. It is possible it may 
 be true. But true or false, it is plain, if I would hope to suv \ ^ed 
 in my designs upon her, I must now, more than ever, yield im- 
 plicit obedience to my mother's behests." 
 
 " Wisely resolved, sire." 
 
 " A reconciliation with the Bearnais will not be difficult,' ^jur- 
 sued Henri HI.; "his choler is as readily appeased as ai jased. 
 You shall see how easily we will cajole him. A fair wor/ or so 
 will make all smooth between us. Approach, brother," ' e con- 
 tinued, addressing the King of Navarre in a friendly tone ; " I 
 have done you wrong, and am eager to make you reparation." 
 
 " Sire!" exclaimed the Bourbon, springing eagerly forward. 
 
 " Your liand, brother." 
 
 " It is the hand of a heretic, sire." 
 
 " No matter ! it is a loyal hand, and as sucli I clasp it. Nay, 
 withdraw it not, good brother. I wish all my court to perceive 
 that we are on terms of amity together — especially my mother," he 
 added, aside. 
 
294 CRICIITON. 
 
 *' Vive le Roi !" cried the courtiers. And the shout was echoed 
 by a thousand voices. 
 
 " I have deprived you of your sword," continued Henri III. 
 " You cannot reclaim your gift from the Chevaher Crichton. I 
 pray you, therefore, to wear this blade for my sake," he added, 
 unbuckling his rapier, the hilt of whi( ii was studded with dia- 
 monds, and presenting it to the King ol Navarre. " Promise nic 
 only that you Avill not draw it against a ubject of France." 
 
 " I will wear it for your defence, sire," replied the Bourbon. 
 " Your majesty's kindness will not allow nie for an instant to doubt 
 your sincerity, but I would gladly learn to whom I am indebted 
 for this sudden alteration in your sentiir, nts." 
 
 "To one whose intercession you scare- ly merit," returned Henri 
 HI., with a gracious smile — " to the qu ; :n-mother." 
 
 " Jour de dieu !" exclaimed the Boui^ton, "to her!" 
 
 "Pardon the unworthy reception I nave given you. I was 
 taken by surprise, and could not divest uj .self of certain misgivings, 
 which this letter has wholly dispelled. 1 v-ill make the best amends 
 in my power." 
 
 " Grant me the life of Florent Chret ; , and we are quits, sire." 
 
 Henri III. was again perplexed. 
 
 " His life is in my motlier's hands," 1 ■■ -aid; " make your appeal 
 to her. You stand well with her, it seems. I never interfere 
 between her mnjesty and the objects of her displeasure. Yet stay ! 
 if you can induce this Chretien to abjure his heresies, I think I 
 may venture to promise you his hfe." 
 
 " You have ratified his doom, sire," said the Bourbon, retiring. 
 *' What think you of this change, Rosir '" he added, as he rejoined 
 his counsellor. 
 
 " I like it not," returned Rosni. "'J ;-■ friendship of this Vilain 
 Herodes is more to be dreaded than •■:- enmitj'. Jjut you have 
 confided in him? — " 
 
 " Bon gre, mal gre," answered the liouibon. 
 
 " How have I played my part, my c'ju.sin?" asked Henri III. of 
 the Due de Nevers. 
 
 " To admiration, sire," replied the duke. 
 
 "You are a fiatterer. But I am ■' i-uy of tliis conferencn. 
 Bring forward our captive and his dog. Twill divert my thoughts 
 to question him." 
 
 "Take heed, compere," cried Chieoi ; "you will not find that 
 dog so carefully muzzled as the great Lear of Berne. " 
 
295 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MISSAL. 
 
 Que toute traliison sur le traitre retombe! 
 
 Victor Hugo. Hemam. 
 
 Blount, who had been strictly guarded during the conference 
 previously detailed, and had endured, with stoical cahrincss, all 
 the petty persecution, in the shape of taunts and blows, that his 
 captors chose to inflict, was now dragged into the king's presence. 
 Druid followed as closely at his heels as the sa:^h by which he was 
 restrained would permit him to do. 
 
 " Before you bestow yon caititF's head upon the executioner of 
 the Chatelet, my liege," said Joyeuse, " it may be well to interro- 
 gate him as to the motive of his daring action. I can scarcely 
 think, with all his reckless courage, that it proceeded from mere 
 bravado. My own opinion is," he added, lowering his voice, 
 "that he is charged with a message to tlie ]5earnais — in which 
 case your majesty may elicit some important information from 
 him." 
 
 "I will essay, mon enfant," replied Henri HI.; "but I despair 
 of success. Look at his stubborn visage and resolute bearing, and 
 say if threats are likely to shake him ? That man would perish 
 rather than play the traitor." 
 
 And so it proved. Blount refused to return other tlian a surly 
 monosyllabic response to the monarch's inquiries. 
 
 " Remove him to the Grand-Chatelet," said Henii HI., impa- 
 tiently, " and let the question ordinary and extraordinary be pro- 
 posed to him." 
 
 " It will extort nothing," rejoined the Englishman, firmly. 
 
 "I Avas right, you perceive, mon cher," said the monarch, turn- 
 ing to his favourite. 
 
 " I will find a way to wring his secret from him, my liege," re- 
 plied the vicomte. " I see where his vulnerable point lies." 
 
 And he whispered to the king. 
 
 "You have hit it," returned Henri, laughing; "but proceed 
 not to extremities." 
 
 " Leave him to me, sire," said Joyeuse. " Draw thy sword," 
 he added, addressing the man-at-arms by whom Druid was guarded, 
 " and upon each interrogation which this obstinate traitor may 
 decline to answer, hew a limb from his hound." 
 
 The weapon of the halberdier flashed in the air. 
 
 " Devils !" cried Blount, in a voice that sounded like the roar of 
 a lion, at the same time exerting himself with so much force as to 
 burst asunder the leathern thong that confined his arms. " What 
 would you have me do?" 
 
 " Reply, without disguise, to his majesty's interrogations," said 
 Crichton, advancing towards him. 
 
296 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Well, tlien," returned Blount, '• to spare my dog unnecessary 
 suffering-, I ^vill do that which I would not have done to preserve 
 ray own flesh from the hot pincers, or my bones from the grinding 
 wheel — I will speak — though, by the rood! I have nothing to 
 reveal. I might have borne to see Druid perish," he muttered, 
 " but to behold him die by piecemeal — no — no — I could not en- 
 dure thaty 
 
 " What brouglit thee hither, thou contumacious varlet?" de- 
 manded Henri III. " Wert thou not aware that thy hfe would 
 pay the penalty of thy rashness?" 
 
 " I was fully aware of the consequences of the step I took," an- 
 swered the Englishman. " But the desire to serve a friend was 
 paramount to any consideration of danger." 
 "What friend, sirrah?" 
 
 " I have been too bold, perhaps, to term him such," returned 
 Blount; " but death levels all distinctions, and mine is so near at 
 hand, that I may claim some exemption from worldly forms. My 
 fidelity will, I nothing doubt, insure me a worthy place in his re- 
 membrance." 
 
 " Thy devotion to whom, sirrah?" demanded Henri IH., impa- 
 tiently. " To the King of Navarre?" 
 " To the Chevalier Crichton, sire." 
 
 "To Crichton!" echoed Henri, in astonishment. "Morbleu! 
 Joyeuse," he continued, addressing the vicomte, " this Scot exer- 
 cises an unaccountable influence over his fellows. Here is a sturdy 
 knave, who derides the dungeon and the rack, ready to lay down 
 his head for the love he bears him. By what magic is this ac- 
 complished ?" 
 
 "By the magic of manner, sire," returned Joyeuse. "Was 
 ever smile beheld so captivating — was ever demeanour witnessed 
 at once so courteous and so dignified, as that of Crichton ! Add to 
 the charm of manner, the ennobling and heroic spirit of chivalry 
 breathing from his lightest word and action — weaving its spell 
 around him, and inspiring all who approach with kindred ardour, 
 and you have the secret of his witchery over the minds of men. 
 It was the same with Bayard — the same with Du Guesclin — with 
 Charlemagne, and with Godefroy de Bouillon. Some men there 
 are for whom we would willingly live: others for whom we would 
 as readily die. Crichton is among the latter." 
 
 *' You have merely drawn the distinction between friendship and 
 devotion, mon cher," replied Henri, turning, with a look of dis- 
 pleasure, towards Blount. " Thy intelligence must have been of 
 vital import, sirrah," he added, pursuing his inquiries, " since it 
 could not be delayed till the jousts were ended?" 
 
 " My errand was nothing more," answered Blount, carelessly, 
 " than to apprise the Chevalier Crichton that a packet on which he 
 set some store, and which, after incurring various risks, had been 
 strangely found, was again as strangely lost." 
 
THE MISSAL. 297 
 
 "Is that all tliou knowst concerning it, mon maitre?" 
 
 " I know that it has proved a fatal charge, sire. All who have 
 meddled witli it have come to ill. It was lost, as it was won, at 
 the point of the sword. To the breast of him who first grasped 
 it, it brought a poignard ; to the next who received it, the stake ; 
 and to myself, it is like to bring the axe. INIay like calamity alight 
 on her into whose possession it hath now fallen." 
 
 *' Your majesty will, pciliaps, next question him as to his acquaint- 
 ance with the contents of tlic packet?" interposed Crichton. 
 
 " By no means," returned Henri, frowning. " I perceive 
 your drift, and have heard enough to convince mc that the testi- 
 mony of this traitor is suborned. Hola ! Larchant," he continued, 
 addressing one of the officers in attendance, " let the prisoner 
 be conveyed to the Ohatelet, and thrown into the Fin d'aise, where, 
 if he ex]nre not within the week, the headsman may release him 
 from further torture." 
 
 " Yours are tender mercies, sire," returned Blount, smiling dis- 
 dainfully. 
 
 " Let the hound be cared for," continued Henri. 
 
 " Is he not to go with me ?" asked Blount, starting. 
 
 " Hence with the prating knave 1" exclaimed the king, furiouslv. 
 
 Blount suddenly broke from his guards, and prostrated himself 
 at the king's feet. 
 
 "I do not ask for mercy, sire," he cried. "I know my life is 
 forfeited, and justly; but oh ! separate me not from my faithful 
 companion." 
 
 Henri wavered. If he /lad a heart, it lay on the side on which 
 the Englishman now assailed him. 
 
 " Thou lovst thy dog?" he said, musingly. 
 
 " Better than my life." 
 
 "'Tis a good sign! — Thou sliouldst be honest. I cannot, how- 
 ever, grant thy request. Refusal here is mercy. The poor animal 
 would only howl beneath thy carcase ; and it may console thee to 
 learn, tliat in changing masters, he will find one who will not 
 value him less than thou dost, while he is better able to protect 
 him. Stand back ! mon maitre." 
 
 " My dog is no courtier," replied Blount, rising; " he will serve 
 no second master. What ho ! Druid." 
 
 This summons, followed by a short, sharp whistle, brought Druid 
 instantly to the Englishman's feet. The scarf was round his throat; 
 and in his teeth he held a large fragment of the apparel of the 
 man-at-arms, which he had torn oiFin effecting his liberation. 
 
 " I knew no bonds would hold thee, brave fellow," said Blount, 
 caressing his dog, who, in his turn, fondly licked his master's hand. 
 " We must part, old comrade." 
 
 Druid looked wistfidly in liis face. 
 
 " For ever," said Blount, slowly, " for ever!" 
 
 " Away with him," cried Henri, " but take heed you harm not 
 
298 CRICHTON. 
 
 the dopr. I would not lose that noble animal for a prince's 
 ransom." 
 
 '"' A moment, sire, and he is yours," ejaculated Blount, over 
 whose open and manly countenance a sullen cloud had now spread. 
 " It is hard to part with a friend whom one has long cherished. 
 This dog," he continued, with difficulty mastering the emotion, 
 which was proclaimed by sundry twitches at the corners of his 
 mouth, " will feed from no hand but mine; Avill answer to no call 
 but mine; will fight at no bidding but mine. I must teach him 
 obedience to his new master. You will find lii-ra tractable enough 
 when I have done with him." 
 
 " I will take every care of him," said Henri, somewhat affected 
 by the scene. 
 
 "Fare thee well, Druid !"" murmured Blount; " and now," he 
 added, gently, " lie doAvn, lie down, old friend." 
 Druid crouched upon the ground. 
 
 Swift as thought Blount placed his foot upon the dog's body, 
 as if about to crush him to the earth, and witlr both hands 
 seized the scarf entwined around his throat. Though he perceived 
 the action, and might have guessed its intent, Druid offered no 
 resistance. His eyes were fixed upon his master. The noose was 
 tightened, and in another instant the fate of the brave dog would 
 have been sealed, but for the intervention of Crichton, who forcibly 
 arrested the Englishman's arm. 
 
 " Desist!" he whispered. "I promise to despatch him, if aught 
 befal thee." 
 
 " You promise more than you can perform sometimes. Chevalier 
 Crichton," returned Blount, sullenly. " You undertook to free me 
 from any peril I might incur in the execution of your orders. My 
 head is now within reach of the axe." 
 
 "Thy own madness has brought it there," rejoined Crichton, 
 sternly. " Release thy dog, or I abandon thee to thy fate." 
 
 Blount, with some reluctance, relinquished his hold of the scarf. 
 " Where is the missal which I entrusted to thy care ?" continued 
 the Scot. 
 
 " Where you placed it — next my heart ; where it will remain 
 while that heart beats." 
 
 "Saint Andrew be praised!" exclaimed Crichton, joyfully. 
 " Anticipating th'jy would search thee, and discover that book upon 
 thy person, I allowed matters to proceed thus far. But no injury 
 should have been done thee. Deliver it instantly to the king." 
 
 Crichton retired, and Blount drew a small richly-gilded volume 
 from his doublet. " Sire!" he said, addressing Henri HI., "this 
 book, confided to me by the Chevalier Crichton, dropped from the 
 folds of the packet about which you have just questioned me. It 
 was committed to my charge because, upon ascertaining it was a 
 mass-book of the Romish Church, Messire Florent Chretien 
 refused to receive it. I am a Catholic. And were I not, I have 
 
THK MISSAL. 295 
 
 no such scruples. It would seem to belong to your majesty. The 
 vellum cover is emblazoned with a royal crown — with the lilies of 
 France, and with the letters C and //." 
 
 " Pardieu ! it is our mother's missal," exclaimed Henri III.; " it 
 is her cipher linked with that of the king our father. Give me 
 the book, Du Halde." 
 
 " Your majesty will not touch it," said the Due de Nevers, turn- 
 ing pale; "it may be poisoned." 
 
 " I will be the first to open it, if you have any such apprehen- 
 sions, my licgc," interposed Crlchton. 
 
 " I have no fear," replied the king. " From these pages I 
 derive health and succour, not bane. Ah ! mon Dieu !" he ex- 
 claimed, as his eye rested upon a leaf on which certain mysterious 
 characters Avere traced. " Have I chanced upon the serpents' 
 nest ?" 
 
 " What have you discovered, my liege ?" asked Joyeuse. 
 
 "A plot!" vociferated Henri III.; "a conspiracy against our 
 crown — against our life !" 
 
 Universal consternation prevailed amidst the assemblage. IVIany 
 mysterious and suspicious glances were interchanged by tlie nobles, 
 and a look of intelligence passed unobserved between Crichton and 
 the King of Navarre. 
 
 "By whom is tliis plot contrived, my liege?" asked the Due de 
 Nevers, with quivering lips. 
 
 "By whom think vou, monsieur Ic due? — by whom think 
 you ?" thundered the king. 
 
 " By the Guise ?" 
 
 " By our father's son — by the Due D'Anjou." 
 
 There was a deep silence, which no one cared to break except 
 the Bourbon, who coughed slightly in an ineffectual attempt to 
 conceal his satisfaction. 
 
 " I have long suspected my brother's treachery," said Henri, 
 after a pause, during which he appeared greatly disturbed; " but I 
 have here evidence of his guilt under his own hand." 
 
 " It is a letter you have found, sire?" inquired the Duo de Nevers, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Ay, my cousin," returned the king, in a deep whisper, " it is a 
 letter ! — a letter from Anjou to our mother — a letter of treason 
 and blood penned upon these sacred pages — a letter devised by the 
 demon, inscribed upon the word of God 1" 
 
 " It is a forgery, my liege. The Due D'Anjou is incapable ol 
 a crime so monstrous and unnatural. I will answer for his inno- 
 cence with my head." 
 
 " Answer for yourself, monseigneur," replied Henri, in a freez- 
 ing tone, at the same time speaking in a voice so low as to be in- 
 audible to his attendants, " you will find it no easy matter. The 
 characters in which this letter is traced reveal the writer. They 
 are secret characters, known only to mvsclf — mv mother — and 
 this arch traitor. They were contrived for the security of my own 
 
300 CRICHTON. 
 
 despatches from Poland, wlien Charles stood towards me as I 
 now stand to Anjou ; and when my mother betrayed him, as she 
 has here betrayed me. These characters cannot have been fabricated, 
 neither can they be deciphered without a key. Look at this 
 writing! To you it is incomprehensible as an Egyptian hierogly- 
 phic : to me legible as the billet of a mistress. And see ! a leaf is 
 wanting. Where was our mother's letter — here is Anjou's answer. 
 Jesus-Maria ! if I had any doubts left, this would remove them. 
 I am doubly betrayed." 
 
 " My gracious liege — " 
 
 " Anjou is guilty of leze-majeste and felony in the highest degree 
 -and shall die the death of a traitor — as shall all who have 
 favoured, or are engaged in this foul conspiracy — even though I 
 flood the Louvre in the noblest blood of France. The scaffold and 
 the block shall not be removed from these courts, nor shall the 
 headsman cease his labour till he has utterly exterminated this 
 hydra-headed monster of rebellion. Hitherto I have been easy, 
 forgiving, merciful. It has availed nothing. Henceforth I will 
 be relentless and inflexible. The ordinance of my ancestor Louis 
 XL, which condemns him who is guilty of misprision of treason, to 
 like doom with the traitor, is not yet abrogated. You have answered 
 for Anjou with your head. Take heed 1 claim not the pledge. It 
 is already forfeited." 
 
 " Your suspicions cannot attach to me, sire," faltered DeNevers. 
 " I have been your loyal follower ever." 
 
 " My suspicions!" echoed the king, in a tone of irony. "Par 
 la Mort-dieu ! monseigneur, I suspect you not — I am assured of 
 your treachery." 
 
 " Malediction ! this to me, sire." 
 
 " Be patient, fair cousin. Another such intemperate exclama- 
 tion, and my guard shall conduct you to the Bastile." 
 
 " Your menaces alarm me not, sire," replied the duke, who had 
 now recovered his composure, "conscious as I am of my inno- 
 cence, and of the groundlessness of the charge preferred against 
 me. The name of Gonzaga has never yet been coupled with that 
 of traitor. Were I aware of any conspiracy against your majesty. 
 1 would denounce it, though my own son were its leader. And if 
 I should march hence to the scaffold with which you have 
 threatened me, my last prayer should be for the uninterrupted pros- 
 perity and long continuance of your reign." 
 
 "Judas!" muttered the king between his teeth; "the plot is 
 better organised, and nearer its outbreak, than I deemed it, if he is 
 thus confident. I must proceed with greater caution. Qui nescit 
 disswndare, nescit rer/nare. Vive-dieu, cousin," he continued, 
 placing his hand familiarly upon the duke's saddle-bow, and re- 
 garding him with a look, in which distrust was skilfully veiled 
 by an expression of friendliness, " your warmth would almost 
 persuade me I have wronged you in suspecting you of defec- 
 tion. If it be so, you will know how to overlook the error, En- 
 
THE MISSAL. 301 
 
 vironed as I am by faction and sedition — surrounded by perfidy in 
 all shapes and all aspects — by rebels in the mask of brothers 
 — traitors under the cloak of counsellors — assassins in the guise of 
 friends ; when those I have most loved, most honoured, most 
 rewarded, are the first to desert, to betray me; -when tliose bound 
 to me by the strict ties of duty, and by the stricter ties of affinity, 
 forget alike their allegiance and affection ; when the hand that 
 once caressed me brings the poignard to my bosom ; and the lips, 
 from which the fondest maternal endearments have flowed, com- 
 mand my destruction, I may be ibrgiven if I should mistake a 
 loyal follower for a deadly enemy, and for a moment question the 
 stainless honour, and mistaken, though not wholly unrequited, 
 fidelity of Gonzaga." 
 
 " My services, however requited," replied the duke, with some 
 asperity, "-should have secured me from these unmerited taunts. 
 But since they who should be nearest to your highness in your 
 love arc visited with the extremity of your indignation, I am con- 
 tent to disregard the aflront." 
 
 •' You do wisely, monseigneur," rejoined the king, with a smile 
 of derision; " / need not remind you this is not the first time I 
 have detected and defeated Anjou's treasonable schemes. I need 
 not tell you of the revolt which was to have followed my return 
 from Poland to the throne of France ; of the ambuscade which 
 beset my route; of the assassins who were baulked of their victim. 
 I need not tell you of my brother's capture, interrogation, and 
 confession; of the decapitation of La Mole and Coconnas; and of 
 my mistaken clemency. Catherine de Medicis in those days 
 watched over my safety with zealous care. Now she has instigated 
 a rebellion she was then prompt to crush. Would to Heaven 
 Anjou had yielded to the promptings of his own dark heart, and 
 strangled her, as he intended to do, when she embraced him in h:s 
 prison at Vincennes." 
 
 " Sire, your resentment carries you too far. Catherine de 
 Medicis is still your mother. To her you owe your crown." 
 
 *'Oui-(]a, monseigneur, and to lier, also, I might owe my abdi- 
 cation and dethronement, if she would permit me to finish my 
 term of life in the seclusion of a cloister. Think you I know not 
 whose hand has hitherto grasped the reins of empire — whose voice 
 has swayed my councils — whose mandates have controlled my 
 edicts — whose policy has influenced my actions? Think you I 
 deemed, when Catherine resigned the regency of this realm to me, 
 she resigned also its sovereign sway? Pardieu ! if such has been 
 your opinion, it is time you were undeceived. I owe her much, 
 but she owes me more. I am indebted to her for the name of 
 king: she has to thank me for the powers of royalty. If I have 
 preferred an existence of enjoyment and repose (as much repose, 
 at least, as is ever allotted to princes) to the cares and responsibili- 
 ties of active government — if I have sought to dispel my ennui 
 by a thousand trifling occupations — if the pursuits of pleasure, 
 
302 ClilCIITON. 
 
 the exercises of devotion, the companionship of favourites and of 
 mistresses, have engrossed my attention — though my people may 
 have some reason to complain, my mother has none, because such 
 a course has been consonant to her inclinations. I have submitted 
 all to her disposal. But, if I am rudely awakened from my dream 
 of security — if I find that the arm ■vvliicli defended me has become 
 hostile — that what I have quietly yielded is to be forcibly wrested 
 from me — that not even the semblance of rule is to be left ; what 
 wonder if I start, like one from a trance, and, banishing from my 
 breast all feelings, save those akin to justice and retribution, 
 prepare to wreak my vengeance upon the heads of the aggres- 
 sors ?" 
 
 " Calm yourself, my liege." 
 
 " Tete-et-sang ! I urn calm enough, as you will find anon, mon- 
 seigneur. I pardoned my brother's first transgression — restored 
 liim to my love — bestowed upon him in appanage the dukedoms 
 of Berri and Anjou, the earldoms of Touraine and Maine, and 
 refused only his solicitation for the lieutenant-generalship of the 
 kingdom. I had good reasons for my refusal. I reserved that 
 high post for some adherent, trustworthy and meritorious us the 
 Due de Nevers." 
 
 " Sire," replied the duke, in confusion, unable to divine Henri's 
 real meaning, and fearful of some snare being laid for him, " I 
 have already received too many proofs of your favour." 
 
 "Bah!" exclaimed tlie king, with ill-disguised irony; " I never 
 till now sufficiently appreciated your services or fidelity. True, 
 I thought, in raising you to your present elevated position — in 
 entrusting my Piedmontese army to your command — in appointing 
 you to the government of Pignerol, Savillan, and La Perose ; in 
 placing certain wealthy benefices at your disposal ; in granting you a 
 heavy pension from the coffers of the state, and investing you witli 
 the cordon of the Saint-Esprit which hangs from your gorget; in 
 doing all this I imagined I had made some slight return for your 
 xmremitting zeal and devotedness. But I perceive my mistake. I 
 have yet a greater service to exact: — I have yet a higher reward 
 to ofier." 
 
 " The service I can conjecture," said the duke, after a pause — 
 'the reward — " f 
 
 ^ " The post I refused to Anjou. My refusal made Liin a traitor. 
 My grant shall make you loyal." 
 
 " Sire !" 
 
 " Your brevet shall be signed to-morrow." 
 
 " I should prefer it to-day," replied the duke, significantly. 
 ' To-morrow it may be out of your majesty's powej-." 
 
 " Ha!" exclaimed Henri, with a thrill of apprehension, " is my 
 peril then so imminent? Mary Mother protect me !" 
 
 " In the Virgin's name," whispered the duke, " I beseech you 
 to maintain your composure. You are surrounded by the spies of 
 
THE MISSAL. 30^ 
 
 Catherine de INTedicis, whose glances are fixed upon your every look 
 a/iu gesture; whose ears are on the alert to catch each word you let 
 fall. Still appear to suspect me, or I shall become as much the 
 o/rject of their viiiilance as your majesty. You arc on the brink 
 of a precipice. My arm alone can arrest your fall." 
 
 " How shall I evince my gratitude?" said Henri, vainly endea- 
 vouring to repress his agitation. 
 
 " By tlie fulfilment of your promise, sire." 
 
 " Doubt it not — doubt it not, my cousin. You shall have your 
 appointment on my return to the Louvre. I swear it by Saint 
 Louis, my patron ! And now relieve my anxiety. You have put 
 me on the rack — " 
 
 " Your majesty must excuse my saying more at present," returned 
 the duke, evasively; " I have already said too much. Your cabinet 
 will be the fittest place for my further disclosures. Here I dare not 
 breathe them. Meantime, do not disquiet yourself. I will answer 
 for your safety." 
 
 Henri darted an angry and distrustful glance at the wily De 
 Nevers. " Who will answer for your honesty, monsieur lo due ?" 
 he said. 
 
 " San-Francesco, my patron," replied the duke, smiling. 
 
 " Where is the Prince Vincenzo?" demanded Henri. 
 
 " He has been removed by his attendants to the Hotel de 
 Nevers," answered the duke. " Heaven be praised his wound is 
 not dangerous." 
 
 "'Tiswell!" exclaimed Henri. *'And now take heed, cousin. 
 lo-morro\v you are chief in command of our armies, or," he added, 
 in a deep, determined tone, " the Duke of Mantua will have to 
 lament his son and brother." 
 
 " As you please, my liege," rejoined De Nevers, with affected 
 indifference. " I have warned you, and you will find my warning 
 fearfully verified if you neglect it. Arouse the suspicions of 
 Catherine de Medicis, and all is lost. Her party is stronger than 
 your own. Her majesty, I perceive," he continued, carelessly 
 looking in that direction, '- has quitted the grand gallery. She has 
 remarked our conference, and despatched a secret messenger to 
 ascertain its object. It must be brought to a close. Pardon my 
 freedom, sire. Danger is not ceremonious." 
 
 " So I find," said Henri. 
 
 " Be ruled by me, my liege," continued the duke, " and your 
 crown shall be preserved without risk — without bloodshed. 1 will 
 meet plot with counter-plot ; stratagem with stratagem ; and turn 
 the weapons of your adversaries against themselves. One Hfe only 
 shall be sacrificed." 
 
 "The life of my brother?" faltered Henry. 
 
 " No, sire; that of your rival in the affections of Esclairmonde 
 — that of the Chevalier Crichton." 
 
 " Sang-dieu ! though I shall not rcf^jret to be freed from a rival so 
 
•^04 CRICHTOX. 
 
 formidable as Cricliton, 1 see not how ills destruction will ensur* 
 the success of your schemes." 
 
 " On him rests the chief reliance of Catherine de Mc-dicis — of the 
 Due d'Anjou. On him devolves the terrible part of your assassi- 
 nation." 
 
 "Jesus!" exclaimed Henri, smelling ut a flacon which he took 
 from his escarcelle. 
 
 " He must die." 
 
 '' In heaven's name let him die, cousin. Order his instant exe- 
 cution, if you think proper." 
 
 " In good time, my liege. And now let me counsel your 
 majesty to command some of your youthful nobles and gentlemen 
 to enter the lists, or to engage in such knightly exercises as may 
 induce your lynx-eyed mother and her mouchards to conclude our 
 tete-a-tete has had reference only to the business of the tilt-yard.' 
 
 " Well thought of, cousin," replied Henri. "But can you not 
 devise some better expedient than the withdrawal of our loyal 
 attendants from our side at a critical conjuncture like the present? 
 I dare not — will not hazard it." 
 
 " What say you to a combat of animals, sire?" insinuated De 
 Nevers. " Many months have elapsed since the gentle dames of 
 your court had an opportunity of witnessing a spectacle so deli^'ht- 
 ful. It will afford them the highest gratification, and answer our 
 purpose admirably. Suppose you make trial of the strength and 
 ferocity of the African lion, sent by Philip U. of Spain, against 
 the tigers lately presented to your majesty by the Grand Signor 
 Amurath HI., or, if you think that match unequal, against the 
 pack of German wolves — " 
 
 " Or Italian foxes," interrupted Henri. " No, De Nevers; were 
 the lion worsted, I should hold it an evil omen. I have often lieai-d 
 of the extreme hardihood of an English bull-dog in the fight; I 
 will now put it to the test." 
 
 "Bravo!" exclaimed the duke. 
 
 " I have a wild Spanish bull, black as Pluto, and fierce as 
 Chiron," continued the king; " he shall sustain the hound's attack. 
 Bid his keepers bring him forth, and chain him to the stoutest post 
 they can find in the lists. Mort-dieu ! 'twill be brave sport," he 
 added, rubbing his hands with pleasurable anticipatinn. 
 
 De Nevers bowed and retired. Henri gazed after him a moment 
 in silence, and then addressing his chief valet, said quickly, 
 " Follow him, Du Halde, and let me know with whom he con- 
 verses. Take note of all he does. Away ! — Strange 1" he mut- 
 tered, " everything, whether of love or peril, in which I am con- 
 cerned, seems to hinge vipon Crichton." 
 
 " Not' at all, compere," said Chicot, who had overheard the 
 latter part of the monarch's self-communion; " he is your destiny." 
 
 " How, gossip?" 
 
 " In his hand rest your crown —your life — ^your mistress." 
 
IIIE MlbSAL. 305 
 
 ••sirrah!" 
 
 " Henriot," said the jester, with a look that ill became hia 
 wonted laughter-moving visage, "for the first time in my life I am 
 serious." 
 
 " And the last, I hope, gossip," returned the king. 
 
 " No, compere, I shall be more serious when I am buffoon to 
 Fran^iDis III. By my bauble ! I had rather they should carve 
 ine a monument like that of Thevenin de Saint-Ligier, the faithful 
 fool of Charles V., at Senlis, than what I fear should happen. And 
 ii icill happen unless you profit by my caution." 
 
 " And what is thy caution, my poor gossip ?" 
 
 " Place your faith in Crichton, cher Henriot," whimpered the 
 jester. " Otherwise I shall certainly lose one of the best of masters, 
 and France will as certainly gain one of the worst of kings." 
 
 Struck by the jester's unfeigned, though ludicrous, emotion, 
 Henri seemed to reflect for a short time. He then motioned the 
 Scot to approach him. " Chevalier Crichton," he said, " to your 
 charge I intrust this missal. I may require you to produce it here- 
 after. But understand me, and you too, messeigneurs," .\,> added, 
 looking round, " the suspicious entertained of treasonable lAientions 
 on the part of my brother have been entirely dispelled by tb.e Due 
 de Nevers. I recal my accusation, and beg of you to dismiss it from 
 your remembrance." 
 
 A murmur of astonishment and displeasure was heard among the 
 courtiers. 
 
 " Have I your majesty's permission to defy the Due /.e Nevers 
 to the combat," said Crichton, unable to repress his \ridignation, 
 " and to extort from liis own lips an avowal of his treason?" 
 
 "It is needless, mon cher. He has cleared himself from all im- 
 putation of guilt." 
 
 " You are the dupe of this wily Itahan, my liege," returned the 
 Scot, with warmth; " he is a felon knight, and disloyal gentleman." 
 
 " The duke is absent, messire," said Henri, anxious to put an end 
 to the discussion. 
 
 " On his return I will hurl the epithets in his teeth." 
 
 "Be that task mine," cried Joyeuse. "You have won nonour 
 enough. My sword is eager to leave the scabbard." 
 
 " I have a vow to defend his majesty against all traitors," ex- 
 claimed Saint-Luc, " and claim the right of challenge." 
 
 " His be the right who first shall affront the caitiflEj" shouted 
 D'Epernon, striking spurs into his charger. 
 
 " Agreed !" cried Joyeuse, following the baron's example. " We 
 shall see who will be first in the race." 
 
 " Hold ! messeigneurs," ejaculated Henri, authoritatively. " Let 
 no one stir from hence on pain of our sovereign displeasure." 
 
 " Vive-dieu !" exclaimed Joyeuse, chafing with vexation. " Your 
 majesty shows more favour to traitors than to your loyal fol- 
 lowers." 
 
306 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Be patient, mon enfant," returned Henri, smiling graciously. 
 ** Your devotion and that of my other faithful friends shall not be 
 forgotten. Meantime, I forbid all further allusion to this matter. 
 After the banquet we shall hold a secret council, at -which thou, 
 Saint-Luc, D'Epernon, Crichton, and, I trust, my brother of Na- 
 varre, will assist. Till then, keep guard upon your speech and 
 actions. Chevalier Crichton, a word with you." 
 
 " By my patron, the Evangehst," said Saint-Luc, shrugging his 
 shoulders, " I am completely m the dark." 
 
 '■ And I," rejoined D'Epernon. " Henri seems bewitched. 
 Like a love-sick damsel he will — and he will not. He evidently 
 distrusts De Nevers, and yet will not avow his suspicions." 
 
 " He has good reasons, doubtless, for his caution," observed Joy- 
 eu5e. " I will be sworn this false duke has betrayed his own party, 
 and purchased Henri's favour with the heads of his colleagues. I 
 am, moreover, of opinion, that in lieu of a peaceful melee by torch- 
 light, we shall have a sanguinary conflict with swords and sharp- 
 ened lances. So much the better ! Perish the Aledicis and her 
 train of Italian impostors, priests, poisoners, and panders. If we 
 can free Henri's neck from this intolerable yoke, he will indeed 
 become a king." 
 
 "And thou?" interrupted D'Epernon, laughing. 
 
 "A duke, peradventure," returned Joyeuse. "En attendant, 
 we are to have a duel between two raffines in the art of offence. 
 The horns of the bull will, I trust, avenge the injuii(.'S inflicted by 
 the teeth of that accursed hound on my gallant chaiirer Bavieca." 
 
 " The hound will be the victor, for a thousand pistoles," cried 
 Saint-Luc. 
 
 " I am for you," replied Joyeuse, eagerly. 
 
 "Let us look at him," said D'Epernon; " methought he was 
 sorely wounded by your men-at-arms." 
 
 " That will not prevent his fighting," said Saint-Luc. "These 
 dogs are the bravest in the world, and will flght as long as hfe 
 endures." 
 
 Upon which the three nobles directed their coursers towards the 
 Englishman, at whose feet Druid still crouched. 
 
 " What think you of all this, Rosni?" said the King of Navarre 
 to his counsellor. 
 
 " That migchief is brewing, sire," replied the baron, knitting his 
 brows, " and that the Valois is either a knave, or a fool — perhaps 
 both." 
 
 " It is easy to see that a storm is gathering," rejoined the Bour- 
 bon. " But it will pass harmlessly over our heads, and may, per- 
 haps, faciUtate our evasion." 
 
 " It may so," returned Rosni, gravely. 
 
 Henri III. meantime conferred apart with Crichton. " Guard 
 that missal," he said, continuing his instructions, " as you would the 
 hidden letters of her you love; as you would a tress r-,f her hair, or 
 
THE MISSAL. 307 
 
 a glove from lier hand; as you would guard holy relic or charmed 
 amulet. I may require it anon." 
 
 *' 1 will guard it as I would the honour of her I love, sire," re- 
 turned Crichton, haughtily. " It shall be wrested from me only 
 with life." 
 
 " When the bull-light is ended," said Henri, " depart secretly 
 from the Louvre, and proceed to the Hotel dc Nevcrs. Here is 
 my signet. Display it to any of the captains of the guard, and 
 such men-at-arms as you may require will attend you. Arrest the 
 Prince Vinccnzo — " 
 
 "Sire!" 
 
 " Interrupt me not. Arrest him, I say, and let him be conveyed 
 m a litter to the palace. I will give orders for his further custody. 
 This done, rejoin us at the banquet." 
 
 " Sire," rejoined Crichton, regarding the king with a searching 
 glance, " whatever commands you may impose upon me, I will 
 obey. I would, however, counsel you to adopt measures Avidely 
 different. I am at no loss to discover your design. It is imworthy 
 of the grandson of Francois I., — of the son of Henri H. Unmask 
 these traitors, and let them perish by the death they merit. Sever 
 the web they have woven around you with the sword. But do not 
 resort to this perfidious Machiavelian policy — treachery against 
 treachery, in which the winner is the loser — or you will fmd, 
 when too late, that you are not so profoundly versed in its mysteries, 
 or so intimately acquainted with its thousand shifts and expe- 
 dients, as the subtle queen with whom you have to contend." 
 
 " We shall see," replied Henri, angrily. " What I now require 
 is obedience, not counsel." 
 
 " Quicquid delirunt leges,'^ cried Chicot, who had stolen upon 
 them unawares. " I am now more than ever convinced of the 
 wisdom of the sage who wrote that kings are fools, and ibols are 
 kings. Mark the intimate relationship between us. 
 
 Kings are fools, and fools are kings, 
 
 Majesty does foolish things, 
 
 While txom Folly wisdom springs. 
 
 Majesty her sceptre swings, 
 
 Folly soon her bauble brings ; 
 
 Majesty to tinsel clings, 
 
 Folly bells of silver rings. 
 
 Crowns and coxcombs, fools and kings 
 
 Are inseparable things: 
 
 Where Kings govern Folly rules. 
 
 Fools are kings, and kings are fools I" 
 
 At this moment a loud bellowing roar, followed by general 
 plaudits, announced the appearance of a new combatant within the 
 precincts of the tilt-yard. 
 
 52 
 
308 CRICHTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE BULL. 
 
 J'ay ouy contcr que feu son ptreluy f:\isoit mesler en tons ses mangers et boircs 
 de la poudre d'or, d'acier et de for, pour le bien lortiiier; ce qu'il continua si bien 
 iusqu'a lage de douze ans, qu'il le rendit ainsi fort et robuste, jusqu'a prendre un 
 taureau par les cornes, et I'arrester en sa furie. 
 
 Bkantome. Hommes lUustres : Disc. LXXXIL 
 
 A MENAGERIE, in the olden time, was considered an indispen- 
 sable appendage to regal state. Sauval relates, that from the 
 reifrn of Charles V. to that of Louis XIL, there existed in 
 the Rue Froidmantel, immediately behind the Louvre, a building 
 " oil souiuient estre les lions du roi^ Wlien the ancient palace of 
 the kings of France was in part destroyed to make way for the 
 ma<Tnillccnt structure, erected upon its site by Pierre Lescot, and 
 now known as the old Louvre, this vivarium, removed to one of 
 the outer courts, was greatly increased by Francois I., and carefully 
 maintained by his successors. Here, on grand occasions, conflicts 
 took place between the savage occupants of the various cages, and the 
 atrocities of a Roman amphitheatre were, in some degree, revived. 
 Here the inhuman Charles IX., in whose bosom the soul of Nero 
 was lodged, frequently repaired with his favourites to indulge his 
 insatiable appetite for carnage. Here, brilliant crowds assembled; 
 and the courage and devotion of a lover were sometimes severely 
 tested by his mistress, who, dropping her glove into the scene of 
 strife, made its restoration the price of future favours. 
 
 An exploit of this description, attended with more than ordi- 
 nary peril, marked the commencement of Crichton's amour with 
 Marguerite de Valois. A combat of animals had been commanded. 
 Scaffoldings, reared around the court, were graced with the flower 
 and loveliness of the land. A fiercely-contested fight, between the 
 ruler of the forest and the sole disputant of his sway — the striped 
 tiger, had terminated in the defeat of the latter. With mane erect 
 and paw heavily imposed upon the lacerated breast of his antagonist, 
 the kingly brute, still growling with rage, glared defiance at the 
 assemblage ; when, amid the hush of silent admiration that 
 succeeded his victory, was heard the light musical laugh of the 
 Queen of Navarre, and the next moment her embroidered kerchief 
 fell at the feet of the slaughtered tiger. The curiosity of the spectators 
 . to ascertain whose faith was to undergo this dread ordeal was 
 not long ungratified. Exclamations of terror burst from many a 
 gentle lip as the figure of a youthful cavalier was discovered within 
 the arena. To tlie terrible encounter in which he was about to 
 engage, this youth brought only a poignard, and a short Spanish 
 mantle swathed around his left arm. His finely-formed limbs had 
 no other defence than was afforded by a rich attire of velvet and 
 
THE BULL. 309 
 
 gaye, wliile his fair unco^'Cfecl locks, floating; over his shoulders, 
 added to the noble and poetical beauty of his countenance. He 
 looked like Ogicr le Danois before the lion-guarded scats of Avalon. 
 With a swift and resolute step he advanced towards his foe, who 
 awaited his approach with grim, but majestic composure. He 
 had attained the object of his quest; his toot was placed on the 
 kerchief; his eyes were fixed steadfastly upon the kindling orbs of 
 the lion. At this juncture — and when scarcely a breath was drawn 
 by the spectators — a page at the back of the scaffold was seized with 
 sudden laintness, and uttered a piercing cry. So absorbing, how- 
 ever, was the interest of the passing scene, that no one heeded him, 
 and he fell back deprived of sense. Better had it been for that 
 page he had never revived ! Eoused by the cry, the lion menaceck 
 his fatal spring. With a roar that shook the rafters of tlie gallery, 
 he prepared to dart upon his intrepid enemy. But the cavalier 
 evaded the attack. As the furious beast loundcd against him, he 
 sprang to one side, and, with marvellous force and skill, plunged hia 
 dagger deeply into the animal's throat. The wound was not 
 mortal. Lashing his sides with rage, the lion returned instantly to 
 the charge. On this occasion, the cavalier flung himself on the 
 ground; and, as the animal passed over his prostrate body, infl.icted 
 another and surer stroke. The roseate hue, which, during the com- 
 bat, had deserted the blooming cheek of ^Marguerite de Valois, re- 
 turned with added lustre as the cavalier, on bended knee, shortly 
 afterwards sued for the prize he had so dearly won, Marguerite 
 smiled upon him, as she granted his request, as only queens (and 
 queens who love) can smile; and that smile was then in his esteem 
 held cheaply purcliased by the hazard he had run. 
 
 On the same night the page we have described as overcome by 
 emotion, beheld another contlict, between the cavalier and the most 
 celebrated duellist of his day, le hien raffait Bussy D'Amboise — at 
 that time the avowed favourite of the Queen of Navarre. In this 
 second encounter he was fortunate as the first. He disarmed and 
 shghtly wounded his adversary. Quitting this rendezvous, which 
 took place in a retired walk within the gardens of the Louvre, the 
 cavalier entered the palace, still warily followed by the page. Pie 
 was admitted, with some mystery, to the apartments of Marguerite 
 de Valois. Framing a thousand excuses, the page awaited his 
 return within a corridor. It was a night of lengthened torture, 
 for the gallant appeared not till dawn, when, with a quick and 
 buoyant step, he passed the miserable witness of his bonne fortune. 
 
 " Why follow you not your master, the Seigneur Crichton, 
 good youth ?" said Aubiac, Marguerite's confidential valet, to the 
 page, who remained like one stupified. " The coast is clear — 
 away !" 
 
 " Call him not my master," replied the page, bursting into an 
 agony of tears, and tearing his raven curls; " I serve him not — I 
 love him not — I will forget him. As to your royal mistress," he 
 
310 CRicnxoN. 
 
 continued, glancing with fury at the door, *' may my curse fall upon 
 her; may she endure the anguish 1 have endured; may she pass 
 one such night as I have passed." And with these words he 
 vushed from the corridor. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" lauglied Aubiac; " I see how it is — a girl in dis- 
 j>uise — over head and ears in love with this liandsonie Scot, whom 
 all the women rave about, though for my part I see nothing extra- 
 ordinary in him. However, as Madame Marguerite admires him, I 
 suppose he has merits I cannot discover. From henceforth the 
 SieurBussy is dismissed; and for three weeks, or, it maybe, three 
 days, the Sieur Crichton will reign in his stead. Maugrebleu! I 
 must take care that pretty vixen does not find her way here again. 
 Of all plagues a jealous woman is the most intolerable; and of all 
 •women, your woman of intrigue is the most jealous. Madame 
 Marguerite is the most jealous woman I have the honour to know. 
 'The malediction of that vmhappy damsel is likely enough to attach 
 to her. Where have I seen that lovely fiice before ? Those dark 
 eyes are certainly not unknown to me. She looks like an Italian: 
 ah ! I have it — I recollect her. She is the principal actress of the 
 Hotel de Bourbon. A fine girl i'faith. This Crichton is fortunate. 
 I should prefer her to the queen." 
 
 Aubiac was right in the conjecture. It was the Gelosa. 
 
 To return. Within the menagerie previously described the Due 
 de Nevers sought out the warlike beast destined to sustain the 
 attack of Druid. Captured amid the Sierra Morena, this wild 
 mountain bull — one of the fiercest of his untameable race 
 — was so little subdued in spirit by confinement, tliat it re- 
 quired considerable address to approach him; and it was only by 
 ■entirely excluding light from his den, that his keepers were enabled 
 to bind and blindfold him. In this state — now rushing madly 
 •forward, now suddenly halting, with lip curled upwards, nostrils 
 distended, head bent down, and tail erect — foaming, butting, bel- 
 lowing, and leaping — girt, as to his neck and shoulders, with a 
 strong tetlier of ropes, so disposed, that he could neither break 
 loose from his bondage, nor injure himself by its pressure; the 
 furious animal, exasperated by the shouts of the spectators, reached 
 the middle of the arena, where he was speedily attached to the 
 central and stoutest stake in the lists. This done, the covering was 
 withdrawn from his eyes. 
 
 Dazzled by the sudden transition from obscurity to sunshine, the 
 bull appeared for a moment bewildered. He then uttered a sullen, 
 ominous moan, which, in the opinion of the experienced, gave 
 unquestionable assurance of resolution and ferocity. His vigour 
 could not be doubted. In make he was perfect. Broad-chested, 
 wide-fronted, straight-backed, thick-necked, well-hammed — curled, 
 shaggy, tufted; his tremendous energies were plainly written in 
 every limb. In colour, from the points of his short, sharp, wrinkled 
 horns to his pawing hoofs, he was black as the steeds of Pluto. 
 
THE BULL. 311 
 
 The old Syracusans would have chosen him as an acceptable sacri- 
 fice to that Deity. Glaring around the afsemblage with eyes of 
 flame, tossinir the sand over his shoulders, ai^d lashing his sides 
 with his tail, he all at once changed his moan into a fierce prolonged 
 roar of defiance. This challenge was instantly answered by a growl 
 deep and tenible us liis own. 
 
 Before, liowever, we attempt to describe the combat, we will 
 repair, for a i'uw moments, to the outer ranks of the spectators, 
 composed of the burgesses, the scholars, and others of the com- 
 monalty of Paris. 
 
 " Valeme Dies!' exclaimed a swarthy-visaged knave, with a 
 broad-leaved, rusty sombrero pulled over his beetle brows, pressing 
 forward as he spoke to obtain a nearer view of the bull; " a noble 
 animal, and of a good heart, I'll be sworn. He is of the right 
 breed and make. I know his stock well. He comes from the 
 mountains of Esticmadura; from the heights of the Guadalcana, 
 where range herds of the finest steers in Spain — ciertamente ! I 
 have seen a hundred such when a grand bull-fight has been lield in 
 tiie Plaza at Madrid, in the presence of his most Catholic INIajesty, 
 Don Felipe; and by the black eyes of my mistress it was a glorious 
 sight !" 
 
 " No doubt of it, most veracious Don Diego Caravaja," rejoined 
 a bystander, turning round, and disclosing the cynical countenance 
 of the Sorbonist. " But what brings you here, my hidalgo? I 
 was told you had entered into the service of Ruggieri, on the last 
 day of his compact with Sathanas, and were to be hanged from the 
 walls of the Grand Chatelet, at the precise juncture that the fagots 
 of the old sorcerer were lighted in the Place de Greve. Pardieu ! 
 I am glad to find I was misinformed." 
 
 '* Never believe idle rumours, amigo," said the Spaniard, twist- 
 ing his moustache after a threatening fashion ; " Ruggieri is free; 
 and the hemp is yet unsown that shall form my halter. I, the 
 familiar of a magician — fob ! Hark ye, compauero," he added, 
 mysteriously, '' I am in the service of the queen-mother." 
 
 " You have quitted the devil, then, for his dam," replied the Sor- 
 bonist, with a sneering laugh. " But i'faith, man, whether you have 
 escaped the noose of the hangman, or the clutches of the fiend, I am 
 delighted to see you. I am only sorry we shall lose the agreeable 
 spectacle of your master's — I beg pardon — Ruggieri's execution. 
 Because I had a wager with our comrade, the Bernardin, Avho, 
 stands by my side, that the Prince of Darkness would, as a matter 
 of policy, deliver so serviceable an agent from the midst of his fiery 
 torment." 
 
 " Which wager you have indubitably lost, compaign," lauglied 
 the Bernardin, " for the black prince has clearly interfered in his 
 behalf by releasing him before he has even snuffed the odours of 
 the resinous torches. Sapristi ! I would you had laid a like 
 stake on Caravaja. I should have been a double winner — ho ! 
 —ho!" 
 
J12 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Whoso wagereth on my neck, had better look to his own," 
 said the Spaniard, coolly, at the same time tapping the hilt of his 
 long Toledo in a significant manner, " or there may be more slitting 
 than choking of weasands. A truce, however, to jesting. I am in 
 no mood for it. In regard to the execution, you will not be dia- 
 apj)o^'*'*pd, seiiors. The Pre-aux-Clercs will not want a bonfire to- 
 night , Ruggieri's name has been erased from the warrant, and 
 that 1 1 Florent Chretien substituted." 
 
 "It triumphe! let me embrace thee for the intelligence," cried 
 the Sjrbonist. " I had vowed that old sinner's destruction. 
 Bettei one heretic should perish than a thousand sorcerers. There 
 is some hope of the conversion of the latter. Besides, it will be a 
 pleasant >^'^time to him. 
 
 Tormenta, career, unguis, 
 Stridensque flammis lamina, 
 Atque Ipsa pcenarum ultima 
 Mors Lutheranis ludus est — 
 Kidebat hjec miles Uei." 
 
 " Chito!" whispered Caravaja, placing his finger on his lips, and 
 again assuming a mysterious air, " this is not the only spectacle you 
 will behold to-night." 
 
 " Indeed!" exclaimed the Sorbonist, elevating his eyebrows into 
 an expression of surprise; " what goodly sight is in reserve?" 
 
 " May I trust you?" demanded the Spaniard, yet more myste- 
 riously. 
 
 " You may, if your disclosure be not treasonable," returned the 
 scholar, mimicking the tone and gesture of his companion. 
 
 " Treasonable or not, I will confide in you," replied Caravaja, in 
 a low voice; " see you these rose-nobles?" he added, thrusting his 
 hand into his doublet, and exhibiting, under the shadow of his cloak, 
 which he held over them, a glittering handful to the greedy eyes 
 of his companion. 
 
 " Whose throat are you bribed to cut?" asked the Sorbonist, 
 spitefully. 
 
 " Thine, if thou amendest not thy speech, amigo. But listen to 
 me, and I will tell thee how to replenish thine empty pouches. I 
 have discovered the true El Dorado. Lend me thine ear." 
 
 The Sorbonist complied. He soon became deeply interested in 
 Caravaja's communication. 
 
 " And is this to take place to-night ?" he inquired, as the 
 Spaniard concluded. 
 
 Caravaja nodded. 
 
 *' And the whole court is to be turned topsy-turvy?" 
 
 Caravaja nodded again. 
 
 " And thine office — our office, I should say — if I join you — is 
 — the word sticks in my throat — the assassination of Crichton ?" 
 
 Caravaja nodded for the third time, adding a slight cough by 
 way of emphasis. ^ 
 
THE BULL. 313 
 
 " By Barrabas! I like it not," said the Sorbonist, as if struck 
 with contrition. " I Avould not stick at a trifle — but this is crime 
 on too grand a scale for my fancy." 
 
 " Choose," returned Caravaja, pointing alternately to the purse 
 and a poignard. " I have but to name thee to one of Catherine's 
 mouchards, of whom there are plenty around us, and the chances 
 are shrewdly against thy reaching the Sorbonne in time for 
 vespers." 
 
 " Of two evils the wise man electeth the lesser," replied the 
 scholar. " After all, one king is as good as another. Le roi est 
 mort — vive le roi ! I am with you. I will be a conspirator. There 
 is something antique and Roman in the idea of overthroAving a 
 tyrant. It will be as amusing as the jeu de coupe-tcte." 
 
 " Bueno !" exclaimed tiie Spaniard, " to-night thou shalt help to 
 rid us of a foe. To-morrow thou mayst, peradvcnture, fill the 
 place of one of these minions of the Sybarite. The scarf 1 will 
 give thee anon. The word is — " 
 
 " Hark !" cried the Bernardin, interrupting their conference. 
 " The sport is about to begin. You will lose it altogetlier if you 
 stand so much aloof INIay the devil direct the bull's horns to the 
 heart of that accursed hound for the fright he gave me at the dis- 
 putation yesterday !" 
 
 Lcavinrr tiiese worthies to strusrffle for a good station to view the 
 fight, we shall now return to the arena. 
 
 Druid, meantime, had not remained inactive. No fiery cham- 
 pion ever evinced more impatience at the sound of hostile bugle, 
 than he displayed on hearing the roaring challenge of the bull. 
 His fury could scarcely be restrained; and his cfTorts to break loose 
 became at length so violent, that Blount was compelled to take 
 him in his arms, and forcibly restrain him. Covered with dust and 
 blood — the thick gore slowly dropping from his unstanched 
 wounds, his head swollen, his right eye closed — the poor brute 
 presented a deplorable spectacle. But neither suffering nor exhaus- 
 tion affected his courage — he was still fierce and terrible as hereto- 
 fore. To the questions put by the youthful nobles by whom he 
 was surrounded, the Englishman refused all response, until the 
 Vicomte de Joyeuse casually remarked, " that it was impossible the 
 dog could fight long in that condition — he must speedily give in." 
 
 A slight smile of derision passed across Blount's features. 
 
 " I would I were as sure of my freedom as I am of Druid s 
 endurance," he said. " He is thorough-bred. And I would stake 
 my life — if my life were my own to stake — that when once he has 
 pinned the bull, nothing will move him. You may hew him in 
 pieces, from tail to jowl ; and, while life lasts, the fangs will 
 cling." 
 
 Tiie nobles were laughing loudly at this boast, when Henri HI., 
 attended by Crichton, who still continued on foot, approached. 
 
314 CRICHTOX. 
 
 "Tliy hound is in a sorry condition, maitre," said the kin^, in a 
 compassionate tone; " dost think he will face his foe?" 
 
 "I am assured of it. sire," rephed Blount. 
 
 "Thou hast vaunted his courage," continued Henri; "if he is 
 victorious I give thee free pardon. If he loseth the battle thou 
 diest." 
 
 " I am well contented," answered the Englishman. 
 
 The monarch and his retinue then proceeded to take up a posi- 
 tion immediately in front of the bull, leaving an interval of some ten 
 paces between them and the enraged animal, who eyed their move- 
 ments with a look of malignant curiosity, redoubling his clamour, 
 and vainly endeavouring to disengage himself from his bondage. 
 All at once he became still — his glaring orbs seemed fascinated; he 
 ceased bellowing; and giving a loud snort, that scattered the foam 
 over his dusky shoulders, lowered the points of his horns. 
 
 The spectators next beheld a man, bearing a dog in his arms, 
 advance from the ranks. At his approach the bull brought his 
 broad front almost to a level with the sand. 
 
 Like his antagonist, the dog had left off growling. There was 
 something formidable in the sudden silence of these two savage 
 beasts, who had up to that moment filled the tilt-yard with their 
 roaring. 
 
 Arrived within fitting distance of the hostile party, Blount depo- 
 sited his burden upon the ground. 
 
 " Upon him !"' he cried; " thy country's honour is at stake." 
 
 But Druid stirred not. 
 
 " How, sir!" exclaimed Blount, angrily; "has thy valour dege- 
 nerated since I brought thee to this craven country? Ha! I see," 
 he added, changing his manner ; " / am to blame, not thou." 
 Upon which he clapped his hands together smartly twice or thrice, 
 and uttered a shrill and peculiar cry. 
 
 Exasperated by these sounds, the bull slightly raised his head. 
 The instant he did so, Druid, who had watched his opportunity, 
 sprang furiously upon him, and made good his hold by fixing his 
 teeth in the thick and fleshy covering of his antagonist's eye. 
 Bellowing with rage and pain, the wounded animal sought to 
 free himself from his persecutor by violently dashing his head to 
 the earth, plunging it between his legs, shaking and tossing it in 
 the air. His efforts were in vain. Crushed, bruised, and gored, 
 Druid relinquished not his gripe. 
 
 The spectators were in ecstasies. Henri HI. laughed till the 
 tears filled his eyes. The Bourbon, who stood on his right hand, 
 appeared equally to enjoy the spectacle. 
 
 " By my bauble!" cried Chicot, thrusting himself between the 
 steeds of the two monarchs, "'tis royal sport! and worthy the 
 illustrious beholders. A goodly conclusion to a chivalrous spec- 
 tacle — ha — ha ! The sotie after the tragedy — the charivari after 
 the widow's espousals May it end as well as it hath begun I 
 
TUK BULL. 315 
 
 Yon huge cornuto," he added, darting a malicious glance at the 
 King of Navarre, " appears, as yet, to have the worst of it." 
 
 " Rail on, knave," returned the Bourbon, laughing good- 
 humoredly; " thou art welcome." 
 
 " Fear me not," rejoined Chicot; " I am of the bull-dog breed 
 myself: 
 
 Ut canis a corio nunquam abstcrrebitur uncto, 
 I never relax — once bit, hold tight. Attend ! 
 
 TliO horns of a bull, 
 
 The sword of a fool, 
 
 The heels of a mulo, 
 
 JIake a King of Misrule. 
 
 But of crown should he be shorn, 
 
 Who weareth wittol's horn ; 
 
 Better queen had never suckled liini, 
 
 Than other quean shou'd cuckold liiinl" 
 
 The jester did not wait to see wliat cftect tliesc ribald strains 
 produced upon the subject of his satire, but diving under the 
 chnrgcr of his own sovereign, disappeared. 
 
 A loud shout was now raised. The bull had obtained a momen- 
 tary advantage over his assailant. By a tremendous cfiort — at- 
 tended with considerable detriment to his own liide — lie succeeded 
 in dislodging Druid, whom, he llung to a great height above his 
 head. Fortunately, the brave hound escaped the deadly points 
 that awaited his descent, but he fell so heavily to the ground, that 
 few imagined he would rise to renew the conflict : — nn opinion which 
 was further strengthened when the bull, bending his knees, dropped 
 upon Druid's bodv before he had time to recover himself, and strove 
 to crush him by his ponderous weight. At this juncture the voice 
 of the Englishman was heard in encouragement of his luckless 
 companion. 
 
 *' What ho ! Druid — what ho !" he cried; '• bestir thyself, or the 
 knees of that accursed brute will force all the breath from thy 
 body. By Saint Dunstan ! I can scarcely forbear my hand. Up ! 
 man — and rouse thee — or it is all over with both of us." 
 
 Henri III. was no less disturbed. 
 
 " Mort-dieu !" he ejaculated, " the brave liound will be slain, 
 and I shall lose one, who might have proved my trustiest follower. 
 Fool that I was to command this fight." 
 
 " Had you not better throw down your warder, gossip?"' said 
 Chicot, suddenly appearing on the left hand of the king ; " the 
 chivalrous bull will probably attend to your behests — and withhold 
 the stroke of mercy. Down with it ! — the base cur yields." 
 
 " 'Tis false, thou yelping limmer, lie does not yield," exclaimed 
 Crichton, who, stationed also on the lelt of Henri IH., had 
 watched the contest with lively interest. Seest thou not the mad- 
 dened beast hath, in the blindness of his fury, driven liis horns 
 deeply into the soil, and not into the dog's reins. And mark how 
 
316 CRICHTOX. 
 
 Druid struggles with his huge oppressor, Hke Typhon with the 
 rocks of Jove — or Hercules with the Cretan bull. Look ! he has 
 extricated himself! — ha ! — bravely done ! — bravely done ! — to tha 
 assault ! staunch hound — to the assault ! Fix thy keen and tenacious 
 fangs within his leathern nostrils. 'Tis done! — 'tis done ! — there 
 thou wilt cling till thy foe sinks from exhaustion. The victory is 
 thine. By Saint Andrew!" he added, with warmth, "I would 
 rather assail the bull myself, than that noble hound should perish." 
 " Your assistance is needless," replied Joyeuse, whose hilarity, 
 occasioned by Druid's recent perilous position, had become over- 
 cast by the present aspect of the fray; " I fear I shall lose my wager 
 as well as my charger." 
 
 " Certes, if you have backed the bull, you will infallibly lose," 
 said the Scot, laughing, " for see! even now he staggers, and ex- 
 hibits symptoms of faintness." 
 
 " There I differ with you, mon cher," rejoined the king; " to me 
 he appears as if he were collecting his energies for some mighty 
 effort. Remember, this is no stall-fed, scant-winded steer." 
 
 Druid, as will have oeen gathered from the foregoing dis- 
 course, had again made good his hold upon the nostrils of his anta- 
 gonist ; and such was the effect of his combined weight and strength, 
 that he contrived to' detain the bull, for some little space, in the 
 kneeling posture he had just assumed. No sooner, however, did 
 the latter animal regain his feet, than, nigh frantic with wrath and 
 agony, he resorted to every expedient that desperation suggested, 
 of freeing himself from his relentless assailant. Worn out, at length, 
 with repeated fruitless attempts, he became comparatively tranquil ; 
 and it was this cessation from strife that Crichton had construed 
 into relaxing energy, but which was rather, as the king had sur- 
 mised, the preparation for a mightier struggle. 
 
 " Saint George for England !" shouted Blount, whose sanguine 
 anticipations had also deceived him — " the victory is ours. A few 
 minutes must decide the conflict — hurrah !" 
 
 But the next moment the Englishman's countenance fell — the 
 smile of exultation fled from his lips. He perceived his error. 
 Renewing the combat with a fury that showed his vigour was un- 
 diminished, the bull tore the ground with his hoofs — filled the air 
 with his blatant cries — tossed his head as if a thousand hornets 
 were buzzing about his ears — and shook the stake to which he was 
 attached, as if he would uproot it. 
 
 " Cornes de Diable!" screamed Chicot; " 'tis a pleasant sight to 
 witness the fantastic gambols of yon amiable beast, and equally 
 diverting to listen to his music. Foreheaven he danceth the cou- 
 ranto more deftly than the Chevalier Crichton — ha ! — ha ! — ho !" 
 
 " Is the fastening secure, think you, mon cher Crichton?" said 
 Henri IH., noticing with uneasiness the violent strain produced 
 upon the rope by the ceaseless struggles of the bull. 
 
 " Have no fear, sire !" returned the Scot, advancing a step or 
 

THE BULL. 317 
 
 two ill front of the king. *' I will place myself between your 
 majesty and the possibility of harm." 
 
 " Gramercy," rejoined Henri, smiling graciously; " and calling 
 
 to mind your former exploit in the Court of Animals (which, en 
 
 passant, cost me somewhat dear in the life of my noblest lion), 
 
 I cannot doubt your ability to cope with a beast of inferior power. 
 
 V I shall, therefore, rest under your protection as securely as behind 
 
 ^ a rampart." 
 
 " Vivat!" cried Joyeuse, " the bull wins!" 
 
 " And the calf," added Chisot. 
 
 As lie spoke, the applauses, resounding on all sides, were sud- 
 denly checked, and a wild cry of alarm, mingled with screams from 
 the female portion of the assemblage, arose. Druid was again 
 tossed aloft, and the bull, instead of awaiting his fall to gore and 
 trample him as heretofore, gave a headlong dash of such force 
 that the rope, though of almost cable thickness, snapped in twain 
 close to his throat, and, tlius liberated, the animal commenced a 
 mad scamper on the arena. The first obstacle he encountered was 
 Blount, whom he instantly overtlirew. He paused not, however, 
 to molest him, but rushed in the direction of Henri HI. 
 
 " The king ! — the king !" cried a thousand eager voices. 
 •' Save the king !" 
 
 But this seemed impossible. Ere a pike could be hurled, a bolt 
 fired, or a sword drawn, the bull had reached the spot occupied by 
 the monarch, and Henri's destruction would have been inevitable, 
 if an arm of iron had not interposed between him and the dancrcr 
 with which he was menaced. That arm was Crichton's, who 
 threw himself unhesitatingly upon the furious animal, and seizini:; 
 his wrinkled horns, by the exertion of his almost superhuman 
 strength arrested his career. 
 
 Amid the turmoil that ensued, the voice of the Scot was heard 
 Bternly exclaiming, *' Let no one touch him — I will achieve his 
 flubjection alone." 
 
 Thus admonished, the crowds, who had flocked to his assistance, 
 drew back. 
 
 The struggles of the bull were desperate — but unavailing. He 
 could neither liberate himself, nor advance. Suddenly, from acting 
 on the defensive, Crichton became the assailant. Calling into play 
 all the energies of his muscular frame, he forcibly drove his oppo- 
 nent backwards. 
 
 "It is time to bring this conflict to a close," he thought, 
 holding the bull's head, immoveably, with his right hand, while 
 with his left he sought his poignard. 
 
 He then glanced towards the king. Surrounded by the bristling 
 halberts of his guard, Henri looked on at his ease. 
 
 *' Pollicem verto,'' cried Chicot, " let him despatch his enemy, 
 compere." 
 
 The royal assent given, scarce another moment elapsed before the 
 bull, mortally wounded by a blow dexterously stricken between 
 
318 CRICIITON. 
 
 the vertebrae of the neck, fell to the ground. Thunders of applause 
 succeeded. 
 
 The loyal cortege then formed into two lines, and Henri rode 
 forth to greet his preserver. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," he said, " to you I owe my life. No Valois 
 was ever ungrateful. Claim some boon, I pray you, at my hands." 
 
 " Sire," replied Crichton, smiling, as he unhelmed himself to 
 wipe the dust and heat from his brow, " my demands will not ex- 
 haust your treasury, I ask only the life of that man," pointing to 
 Blount, who, with folded arms and a dejected air, stood alternately 
 regarding the carcase of the bull and Druid, who, stunned by his 
 lall, had with diiliculty limped to his feet; "he will suffer punish- 
 ment enough in the mortification occasioned by his dog's defeat." 
 
 " It is yours," replied H-enri. 
 
 " Your majesty will not separate the faithful hound from his 
 master," continued the Scot. 
 
 " As you please," sighed the monarch. "I cannot refuse your 
 request." Crichton threw himself upon his knee, and pressed 
 Henri's hand gratefully to his lips. 
 
 " My thousand pistoles, Saint-Luc," said Joyeuse, gleefully. 
 
 " They are not fairly won," replied Saint-Luc. " I appeal to 
 D'Epernon." 
 
 " 'Tis a drawn wager," returned the baron; "and in future I 
 recommend both of you to back a Scottish right arm against bull 
 or bull-dog." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 TUE PRIZE. 
 
 Quand ilz furent tous devant sa presence, 
 
 Et b, genoulx pour sa face choisir, 
 
 Le roy d'arnies en tres grant re'verence 
 
 Lui dit ce qu'il s'ensuit, et a loisir: 
 
 Sire, avecques le vostre bon plaisir 
 
 Et licence d'autre part obtenue, 
 
 La pastourelle est devant vous venue 
 
 Pour le grant pris delivrer orendroit 
 
 A cellui qui sans doutance y a droit, 
 
 Et de dehors deservi Tara mieux. 
 
 Louis de Beacveau. Le Pas de la Bergiert. 
 
 Two sergeants of the guard now advanced, leading a steed, 
 which the carcase of the slaughtered bull was promptly attach 
 by means of cords, and dragged out of the arena. 
 
 A pursuivant-at-arms, clothed in a sumptuous casaque flowered 
 with the lilies of France, next approached; and, reverentially in- 
 clining himself before Henri, demanded, in the name of the Queen 
 of the Lists, his majesty's license to close the jousts. Permission 
 being graciously accorded, the pursuivant, accompanied by a 
 couple of trumpeters, who gallantly did their devoir, proceeded 
 towards the pavilions, and removing the shields of the combatants, 
 delivered that of Crichton to bis esquire. This done, the judges 
 
THE riJZE. 319 
 
 of the field, marshalled liy Montjoic, descended from their tribunal, 
 and gravely directed their course towards the grand gallery, into- 
 Avhich they Avere ceremoniously uslicred. 
 
 Crichton, meantime, looked on in silence. Indescribr.ble emo- 
 tions swelled his bosom. The stirring notes of the trumpet re- 
 kindled all his fire. ]\Iuch as he had done to distinguish himself, 
 lie burnt for new opportunities of displaying his prowess, and would 
 gladly have splintered another lance in honour of the bright eye& 
 he worshipped. 
 
 " What would life be," ran his self-communion, " without 
 ambition — without fame — without love? — hopeless slavery — 
 and prolonged torture. I for one could endure not its burden. 
 'Sly life shall be computed by days, not years; with me hours 
 shall play the part of days — moments of hours. I will crowd into 
 each moment as much of active existence as that moment will 
 comprehend, nor will I know pause till fate shall for ever check 
 my impulses. I reverence age; but I desire not its honours. I 
 would rather die covered •with glory than bowed down by years. 
 Were I to perish now, I should have lived long enough. And if 
 I can achieve tlie deliverance of her, to whose love my lieart is for- 
 bidden to aspire — but for whom alone it can ever beat ; if I can free 
 yon brave monarch from his thraldom ; and tliat inconstant, yet not 
 ungenerous voluptuary, from the peril in wiiich he stands — I care 
 not if this day be my last." 
 
 As these thoughts swept tlirough his mind, the countenance of 
 the Scot — ever the faithi'ul mirror of his emotions — took a slight 
 cast of sadness; and Henri, inspired by jealousy, having narrowly 
 scrutinised his features during this momentary reverie, fancied he- 
 could detect the secrets of his inmost soul. 
 
 •' It will not do to trust him." thought the king; " his passion is- 
 stronger than his loyalty. Hola ! Chevalier Crichton," he added^ 
 aloud, and in a tone of raillery, " while you are studying your 
 next ode, or preparing a tliesis for the schools, we, less philosophical, 
 less poetical mortals, are dreaming only of the speedy appearance of 
 the Queen of the Lists to award the chief prize of the tourney. 
 I have some notion u]K)n whom it will be bestowed. Attend mo 
 to the tribunal. Lover as I am of etiquette, it would ill become 
 me to break through prescribed forms upon an occasion like the 
 present, when I have fairer dame to grace my Hsts than ever yet 
 rewarded valour, and braver knight to receive the meed of victory 
 tiian ever yet won prize from dame !" 
 
 With this high-flown compliment, Henri rode slowly towards- 
 the canopy, where he dismounted, and took his seat upon the fau- 
 teuil, placing the King of Navarre on the tabouret at his right. 
 Crichton remained standing on the lowest step of the scaffold. 
 
 Presently the inspiring bruit of clarions and other martial in- 
 struments was heard from that quarter of the tilt-yard in which 
 the grand gallery was situated. The barriers were hastily removed; 
 
320 CRTCHTON. 
 
 the halberdiers ranircd themselves en hnic ; and fidmittance was 
 given to a troop oi' fair equestrians, whose personal charms were 
 scarcely less to be apprehended than the weapons of their knightly 
 predecessors. At the head of this radiant band, which, like the burst 
 of a sunbeam, diffused smiles and animation as it proceeded, three 
 figures were distinguished, each so beautiful, yet each so different 
 in style of beauty, that the admiration of the beholders was divided, 
 and the judgment perplexed, ''s to whom the palm of surpassing 
 loveliness ouglut to be assigned, ^n the fine and delicate features; 
 the exquisite fairness of complexion; the soft blue eyes and gentle 
 regards of her who rode on the right, the spectators recognised and 
 hailed their queen, the virtuous but lightly-esteemed Louise. In 
 the fuller form and more majestic deportment : in the ravishing grace, 
 the jetty tresses, and dark languid glances of the queenly dame on 
 the left, no one failed to detect the gorgeous Marguerite de Valois. 
 Murmurs of impassioned homage pursued her. The very air re- 
 spired of love as she passed ; and there was not a cavalier of the 
 thousands who gazed upon her, but would have perilled his Hfe 
 for a favouring regard. Marguerite, however, was insensible to 
 the general idolatry. A smile was on her lips; witchery was in 
 her looks; but in her heart raged the undying worm of jealousy. 
 
 Between the two queens, on an Isabelle-coloured palfrey, richly 
 caparisoned with blue velvet bordered Avith pearls, rode Esclair- 
 monde; and if a preference was shown by the assemblage, it Avas 
 towards the lovely princess; whose attractions, although they did 
 not excite the fiery admiration roused by the voluptuous fascina- 
 tions of Marguerite de Valois, awakened a sentiment of far deeper 
 devotion. Immediately behind this captivating trio rode Catherine 
 de Medicis, who displayed the admirable symmetry of person for 
 which she was celebrated — a charm not to be impaired by time — 
 as well as the proficiency as an equestrian, for which she was equally 
 noted, in the management of a fiery Arabian. In the languishing 
 looks of the beautiful blonde, on the left of the queen-mother, the 
 •King of Navarre was at no loss to discover his new conquest, La 
 Rebours; while, in the sprightly brunette at her right, admirers, too 
 numerous to particularise, claimed a more intimate acquaintance 
 withTorigni. 
 
 Preceding the Princess of Conde, and bearing a white wand, 
 together with the grand prize of the tourney, a magnificent diamond 
 ring, which he ostentatiously displayed to the spectators, marched 
 the pursuivant. The judges of the camp, headed by Montjoie, and 
 followed by a band of pages and trumpeters, brought up the rear of 
 this brilliant cavalcade. 
 
 Arrived within a short distance of the royal canopy, the jocund 
 troop came to a halt, and formed a long line in front of the king, 
 of which Esclairmonde constituted the centre. Rapid as thought, 
 the page of each dame, attired in her colours, then advanced, and 
 placed himself at the bridle of her steed. Executed with great 
 
THE PRIZE. 321 
 
 precision and quickness, this manoeuvre produced an agreeable 
 effect, and was loudly applauded by the gallant Bourbon, whose 
 eye wandered over the fair phalanx in a manner that plainly 
 evinced of what inflammable material his valiant heart was com- 
 posed. 
 
 " Ventre-saint-gris !" he ejaculated; "such a legion would be 
 irresistible." Just then his ardent gaze chanced upon his queen. 
 "Peste!" he added, averting his glances, " the snake will always 
 intrude itself into Eden." 
 
 It was, in sooth, a pleasant sight to look upon that array of lovely 
 dames (Catherine's famous " petit bayide"), Tind lo mark their differens 
 attractions, now so forcibly, yet so advantageously, contrasted — each 
 acting as a foil to the other — each unconsciously contributing to 
 her neighbour's fascination. Oh ! how various arc the aspects of 
 beauty — how beautiful are all its aspects. 
 
 Making his way tlirough the press, Montjoie now bent the knee 
 before Henri, and repeating a formula similar to that of the pursui- 
 vant, entreated permission for the Queen of the Lists to award the 
 prize to him who had demeaned himself the most valiantly in the 
 jousts; concluding with the almost unnecessary assurance, that all 
 would be done '• with loyalty and justice." To this soUcitatioa 
 Henri vouchsafed a gracious response, and the king-of-arms having 
 fulfilled his duty, retired. 
 
 Holding the bridle of Esclairmonde's palfrev, the pursuivant 
 next led her towards Crichton, who, perceiving the intention of the 
 princess, advanced to meet her, and threw himself at her feet. 
 Taking the ring from the pursuivant, Esclairmonde then placed it 
 upon the finger of her lover. The Scot joyously arose. The 
 reward to which he looked forward with most eagerness was yet to 
 be conferred. 
 
 Amid the thunder of acclamations that succeeded, the voices of 
 the heralds were heard exclaiming, " A Crichton ! — a Crichton ! 
 — largesse ! largesse I" 
 
 The Scot motioned to his esquire. Raising the shield of his 
 master, the youth filled it with broad golden pieces, which he dis- 
 tributed amongst the olHcers of the tilt-yard, who thereupon re- 
 doubled their joyous vociferations 
 
 While this was passing, Montjoie, with stately step, drew near 
 the principal group of this vast and resplendent picture. 
 
 " Remove your helm, sir knight," he said ; " the Queen of the Lists 
 desires to thank you for the fair courses you have run in her honour, 
 and to bestow upon you the priceless reward of your prowess." 
 
 A deep blush mantled Esclairmonde's cheek as Crichton obeyed 
 the injunctions of the king-of-arms. The next moment he felt the 
 glowing lips of the princess pressed upon his brow. That salute 
 annihilated all his prudential resolutions. He forgot their disparity 
 of rank — his own danger — her perilous position He did not relin- 
 
 Y 
 
322 CRicnxoN. 
 
 qm'sli the hand she had confided to him — but, in the delirium of 
 the moment, raised it to his lips. 
 
 Esclairmonde was equally agitated. Suffused with blushes, and 
 anon becoming white as marble, palpitating, faint, she could 
 scarcely maintain her seat upon the unruly palfrey; and in order 
 to prevent mischance, Crichton deemed it necessary to pass his 
 arm around her waist. The situation was rather embarrassing, 
 and awakened the ire of the two monarchs. 
 
 " Esclairmonde," whispered Crichton, passionately, " you are 
 mine." 
 
 " I am — I am," returned the princess, in the same tone. " I 
 would abandon my newly-discovered title — my rank — life itself, 
 rather than my love." 
 
 " I have the queen's assent to our espousals," rejoined Crichton. 
 in an altered voice. " She has promised me your hand — on certain 
 conditions." 
 
 " On what conditions?" asked Esclairmonde, tenderly regarding 
 her lover. 
 
 " Conditions which I cannot, dare not fulfil — conditions which 
 involve the sacrifice of my honour," replied Ci'ichton, gloomily. 
 " Esclairmonde," he added, in accents of despair, " the dream is 
 passed. You are the Princess of Conde. It is madness to indulge 
 these vain hopes longer. 1 may serve you, but I may not love 
 you — farewell !" 
 
 " Stay !" exclaimed the princess, detaining him with a gentle 
 grasp. " I have a painful, a dreadful duty to fulfil to-night. 
 I have to take an eternal farewell of one who has been a friend, 
 an adviser, a father to me." 
 " Of Florent Chretien?" 
 
 " Intelligence of the martyrdom to which he is adjudged by the 
 merciless Catherine has just reached me. An hour before midnight 
 I shall be within his cell to receive his parting benediction," she 
 added, with some hesitation, and gazing at the Scot with eyes that 
 swam with tears. 
 
 " Were it to encounter certain destruction I would be there," 
 returned the Scot, fervently. 
 
 " And you will encounter certain destruction if you carry this 
 presumptuous passion further. Chevalier Crichton," said Henri of 
 Navarre, advancing towards them. " You cannot plead ignorance 
 of the exalted station of the maiden to whose love you aspire. 
 The bright blood of the Bourbon will never mingle with that of a 
 Scottish adventurer. Your pardon, fair cousin," he continued, 
 addressing Esclairmonde in a conciliatory tone, " it is with extreme 
 reluctance that I interfere in an affair of the heart. I would 
 rather forward a lover's suit than oppose it, especially the suit of a 
 cavalier so accomplished as Cricliton. But I must act as the Prince 
 of Conde would have acted. Take this decision, then, from his 
 
THE ri;iZE.' 323 
 
 lips. The daughter of Louis of Bourbon can only bestow her 
 hand upon her equal." 
 
 " The daughter of Louis of Bourbon will only bestow her hand 
 upon him she loves," returned Esclairmonde, with a spirit such as 
 slie had never before exhibited; " and your own experience of her 
 race will inform you, sire, that her heart is as little likely to be 
 controlled as her hand." 
 
 " As I expected," rejoined the Bourbon; " but it cannot be. It 
 is one of the curses of exalted birth, that the hand and the heart 
 can never go togetlier." 
 
 " And why should they be divided in this case," asked Cath.erino 
 de Mcdicis, advancing, " if my consent be given to the match?" 
 
 " For a suflicicnt reason, madame," said Henri IIL, joining thu 
 group; " because our ]")leasurc is otherwise; and because we forbid 
 the Chevalier Crichton, on pain of banishment from our presence — 
 from our kingdom — as he would escape the doom of a traitor, and 
 a dungeon within the Bastile — again to approach the Demoiselle 
 Esclairmonde in the character of a lover. We shall see whether 
 he, or you, madame, will venture to disobey us." 
 
 "Henri!" exclaimed Catherine, in amazement — " this to me?" 
 
 " You are our mother — but vou arc also our subject, madame," 
 retiu'ncd the king, coldly. " We h.avc issued our commands — it 
 is for you to see them obeyed." 
 
 Catherine did not reply. Her glance fell upon Cricliton, and an 
 almost imperceptible smile passed across her features. At th'3 
 threat of the monarch the Scot's hand instinctively sought his- 
 poignard, upon the hilt of which it now rested. W^hen too late, 
 he perceived his error, and the liilse constructions put upon th(3 
 action by the queen. 
 
 " If you will set at rest the question as to the illustrious birth 
 of the Demoiselle Esclairmonde, madame, I am content to obey the 
 mandates of the king," said Crichton. " On your decision," ho 
 added, Avith a significant look, " must rest her fate," 
 
 "The time is arrived for the acknowledgment of her birth, 
 which you have truly said is illustrious, mcssire," replied Catherine, 
 glancing triumphantly at her son. " Esclairmonde is a princess of 
 the blood royal of France. She is a Bourbon. Let the King of 
 Navarre take note of my words; let all remember them; and let 
 tliose who reverence the memory of Louis I,, Prince of Conde,. 
 incline themselves before his daughter." 
 
 Obedient to the intimation of Catherine, a crowd of nobles, 
 pressed forward to kiss the hand of the newly-discovered princess; 
 and many there were, who, upon that occasion, forgot tlicir ancient 
 enmity towards the great champion of the Protestant Church, in 
 the admiration excited by his lovely descendant. 
 
 " Well, sire," said the Bourbon, turning to Henri III., "/have 
 ^ound the princess. Of course you will find the convoy." 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 CRICHTON. 
 
 "Peste!" exclaimed Henri, angrily. And motioning to Du 
 Halde, he issued his commands to close the jousts. 
 
 " The princess is yours,'' said the queen-mother, aside to Crichton. 
 
 This assurance, however, gave little encouragement to the Scot. 
 He felt that his passion was hopeless. And the despair which 
 love without hope must ever inspire, took possession of his soul. 
 
 The flourish of trumpets which immediately succeeded afforded 
 some relief to his oppression. Silence being proclaimed by this 
 ■warlike prelude, the pursuivant advanced, wand in hand, and 
 uttering thrice the preliminary "0/ez," informed the noble assem- 
 blao^e that the jousts were brought to a conclusion — that liis majesty 
 bade them all to the banquet within the Louvre — and that in Heu 
 of the emprise of the Chatel dc la Joyeuse Garde, and the grand 
 m^lee by torchlight, the king would hold a masque and fete within 
 the palace. 
 
 This announcement -was received with general surprise and 
 chagrin. 
 
 " How is this, my son?" said Catherine, in a troubled voice. 
 *' Have you abandoned the chivalrous spectacle to which you looked 
 forward with so much pleasure? Methought you were about to 
 exhibit your own matchless skill as a tilter in the courses a la 
 
 fouur 
 
 *' Par la Mort-dieu ! madame," replied the king, in a tone of 
 raillery, " the masque will be more in character with the strange 
 scene we have just witnessed than the melee. Besides, the tilt- 
 yard is not the theatre for our display. The lists are unlucky to 
 our race. We remember our father's fate — and shall in future 
 avoid the lance." 
 
 "Ha! betrayed," muttered Catherine. "But the traitor shall 
 not escape my vengeance." 
 
 *' To the Hotel de Nevers, mon cher," said Henri, turning to 
 Crichton, " and arrest the Prince of Mantua. Interfere not with 
 our passion," he added, in his blandest accents, " and we have no 
 favour to refuse you." 
 
 Amid renewed fanfares of trumpets, the splendid assemblage then 
 separated. But the troop of laughing dames did not return in the 
 strict array it came. The ranks were disordered, and in place of a 
 page, by the side of each bright-eyed equestrian rode a favoured 
 cavalier. Henri HI. took the lead with the reluctant Princess of 
 Conde; the Bourbon attached himself to La Rebours ; while 
 Crichton returned to the pavilion, where the armourer proceeded 
 to free him from his knightly habiliments. 
 
 As the two monarchs quitted -the tilt-yard, loud shouts were 
 raised of " Vive h roi ! vive?it les rois .'" 
 
 " You hear, Rosni," said the Bourbon, addressing his counsellor. 
 
 " Vivent Us rois! 'tis a good augury." 
 
 By-and-by three figures alone remained within the precincts of 
 the arena. 
 
THE DUNGEON. 325 
 
 " Since the melee is abandoned, thy scheme falls to the ground, 
 my hidalgo," said the foremost, who was no other than the Sor- 
 bonist. 
 
 '* Perdition !" exclaimed Caravaja, twisting his moustache, after 
 his wonted ferocious fashion. " I know not what to think of it. 
 I would give my soul to Sathanas, that that accursed Scot should 
 fall in my way." 
 
 " The compact is concluded," said the Bernardin, " for lo! he 
 appears." 
 
 And as he spoke, Crichton, attired in a pourpoint of velvet and 
 short Spanish mantle, issued from the pavilion. He was followed 
 by Blount, bearing Druid carefully in his arms, and directed his 
 steps towards the outer court. 
 
 " After him," cried Caravaja, drawing a knife, and placing it in 
 his sleeve. *' A muerte!" 
 
 CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 THE DUNGEON. 
 
 Paolo. Aurait-il abjure? 
 
 Elci. Pas encore. 
 
 Paolo. Mais cet acte il n'est que diffe'rc? 
 
 Casimer Delavigne. Une Famille au temps du Luther. 
 
 The Louvre once enclosed within its walls a number of subter- 
 ranean cells, appropriated to the confinement of prisoners of state. 
 Into one of these gloomy receptacles Florent Chretien had been 
 thrust. Deprived, by the rigour of his persecutors, of the conso- 
 lation which had ever been afforded him in hours of affliction by 
 reference to the " healing balm" of Scripture, the good man passed 
 tlie brief space allotted liim on earth in deepest prayer. As the 
 time drew nigh when his dreadful sentence was to be carried into 
 execution, his devotions were interrupted by the entrance of one 
 of the hooded officials, who introduced a masked female into the 
 dungeon, and then silently departed. The dull light of a brazen 
 cresset suspended from the ceiling imperfectly illumined the apart- 
 ment, and a few moments elapsed ere Chretien, whose eyes had 
 been closed in earnest supplication, could distinguish the muffled 
 object that stood before him. 
 
 " Is it you, my daughter?" he asked, as the figure remained 
 stationary. 
 
 "It is," replied Esclalrmondc, unmasking; "but I feared to 
 disturb your devotions." 
 
 " Approach," rejoined the preacher; "your name has mingled 
 with my prayers, let your voice also ascend with mine towards the 
 throne of mercy. The sand of my Hfe is almost run out. Each 
 moment is precious. I have much counsel to give you. But ere I 
 
326 CIlJCllTOX. 
 
 offer such precepts for your guidance as may be needful for the 
 spiritual Avelfare of one whose passage Avill be longer than mine 
 own through this Vale of Tears, I would fain invoke a blessing on 
 your head." 
 
 Esclairmonde knelt by his side. The benediction was besought 
 and bestowed. The voice of the princess joined in the fervent 
 petition for heavenly grace that succeeded. Scarcely, however, 
 was their devout employment brought to a close — scarcely had the 
 holy man begun to address himself to those instructions which he 
 deemed it necessary to impart to his religious pupil, when the door 
 again opened, and the hooded official having introduced another 
 figure enveloped in a large mantle, departed as noiselessly as he 
 had entered the chamber. 
 
 " He comes!" cried Esclairmonde. 
 
 "The executioner?" asked Chretien, calmly. 
 
 "The Chevalier Crichton," returned the princess. 
 
 " He here!" exclaimed Chretien, a shght shade passing across 
 his benevolent countenance. 
 
 " He is here to bid me an eternal farewell," sighed Esclairmonde. 
 
 " Princess of Conde," said the preacher, with some severity, 
 •' it must be an eternal farewell." 
 
 " You have said it, good father," replied Esclairmonde, in a tone 
 of sorrowful resignation. 
 
 " Your rank forbids an alliance so disproportionate, even if the 
 Chevalier Ciichton's religious opinions coincided with your own," 
 pursued Chretien. 
 
 "Alas!" murmured Esclairmonde, "our creeds are adverse; a 
 Avide disparity of rank exists between us; but our hearts are indis- 
 solubly united." 
 
 " You love him then most tenderly, my daugliter?" 
 
 "Love him!" echoed the princess, passionately. " Father, to 
 you I look to strengthen me in the resolution i have taken. This 
 interview is my last." 
 
 " I will not fail you, my daughter," replied the old man, kindly. 
 " Think only that he is the enemy of your faith; and that were you. 
 united to him he might interfere with the important services it 
 may hereafter be in your power to render to your persecuted church. 
 The thought that will most alleviate the anguish of my latest 
 moments is, that I have sown the good seed within your bosom, 
 which, in due season, shall bring forth a plenteous harvest for our 
 suffering people. Princess of Conde, promise me solemnly that 
 you will never wed a Romanist." 
 
 " Esclairmonde," said Crichton, advancing. 
 
 " Hesitate not," said the preacher, severely, " or you are lost. 
 Promise me." 
 
 " My soul is wedded to the Reformed Faith," rephed the 
 princess, firmly; " and I here vow never to bestow my hand upon 
 a Catholic." 
 
THE DUNGEOX. 327 
 
 "Amen!" responded Chreiicn, fervently. 
 A deep groan burst from the bosom of the Scot. 
 " Chevaher Crichton," said Esclairmonde, " you have heard my 
 vow." 
 
 " I have," replied the Scot, mournfully. 
 
 " Hear me yet further," continued the princess. " My zeal — 
 my love — my gratitude, prompt me to lay aside feminine reserve. 
 When I desired that our final interview should take place in the 
 presence of this reverend man, it was that I might address you 
 freely; it was, that I might avow my love in the presence of one 
 whose holier aspirations have not rendered him insensible or indif- 
 ferent to the frailties of his fellows; it was" — she added, with some 
 hesitation, and blushing deeply as she spoke, " in the hope that our 
 united eflbrts might induce you to embrace the religion I profess ; 
 and that as convert to a faith, the purity of which your severest 
 judgment must acknowledge, I might, without violation of my 
 conscientious scruples, though in disregard of the elevated position 
 I um compelled to assume, ofier you my hand, and request him 
 from whose lips I have imbibed the precepts of truth and humanity, 
 which inspire me at this moment, to alliance us together before 
 heaven." 
 
 " You have spoken with a voice of inspiration, my daughter," 
 said Chretien, with a benignant smile, " and 1 have olfered no in- 
 terruption to your words, because they flow from a source whence 
 true wisdom only springs. You have appealed to me in a manner 
 which I cannot resist. Y^our heart, I know, is already betrothed 
 to the Chevalier Crichton. Let him cast oft' the bonda^;e to which 
 he has so long heedlessly subjected himself Let him not view 
 religion through the medium of the senses, but by the purer liorht 
 of the sacred Scriptures. Let him abjure the errors and idolatries 
 of Home, and exert the mighty intellectual powers with which he 
 has been intrusted for the noblest purposes from on high — in the 
 advancement of the true fliith, and your bctrothnient shall not, for 
 one moment, be delayed." 
 
 " Crichton," inquired Esclairmonde, tenderly, "is this our last 
 meeting, or are we for ever united?" 
 
 " It is our last," replied the Scot, in a despairing tone, " if the 
 condition annexed to the continuance of our love be my apostacy, 
 Esclairmonde, for you I would make any sacrifice consistent with 
 honour and rectitude of principle. For you I would resign those 
 projects of ambition which liave liltherto engrossed my soul; for 
 you I would repress that desire for universal distinction which 
 has ever formed the ruling passion of my existence; for you I 
 would be aught but a renegade to my faith — a traitor to my God. 
 Glory has been my guiding star; my gaze has been steadfastly fixed 
 upon it; I have steered my barque by its rays. Fame is dearer to 
 me than life; love is dearer than fume; but honour is dearer than 
 love. Listen to me, Esclairmonde. You are the Princess of Conde. 
 
328 CRICHTON. 
 
 Your rank is the most illustrious in France; but that rank has had 
 no influence in engaging my affections. My heart was yours vrhen 
 tiur stations were supposed to be equal ; my heart is yours now a 
 farrier is placed between us. I can neither cease to love, nor feel 
 increase of passion. To me you are unchanged. To me you 
 are the orphan Esclairmonde. Rank can add nothing to your 
 beauty, as it can detract nothing from it. To link my fate with 
 yours was to realise the wildest dream of my youthful imagination. 
 It were to attain at once the goal to which I have aspired. It 
 were to raise me to the proudest pinnacle of felicity to whicli man 
 may attain." 
 
 " Reflect/' said Chretien. 
 
 "I have reflected," returned the Scot. "Think not my fixed 
 resolve upon a point involving my eternal welfare has been the 
 result of inconsiderate caprice; — think not because I have clung to 
 the faith of my fithers, through trials, of which this, though the 
 severest, is not the most formidable — think not it has been from a 
 preverse adherence to wrong; think not, because you are strong 
 in your own belief — a belief which I regard as false and pernicious 
 — that I am not equally inflexible. I have disputed on the tenets 
 of my faith with my sage preceptor, Buclianan, and he has failed 
 to convince me of my errors. 1 am a Catholic from conviction ; 
 and as such, am as fully prepared as yourself to embrace the alter- 
 native of death rather than departure from that religion which is 
 derived from truth, and sustained by holiest tradition." 
 
 "If the great Buchanan has failed to work your conversion, my 
 son, my endeavours must prove ineffectual," returned the preacher, 
 shaking his head; " nevertheless, I will essay — " 
 
 " It is in vain," replied Crichton, sternly. " iSIy martyrdom is 
 past — yours is to come, old man. I liave twice endured temp- 
 tation to-day — I have twice resisted it. The hand of tlie Princess of 
 Conde was to have been the price of my disloyalty — the same 
 hand has been made a lure to drag me to perdition." 
 
 " Say rather to direct you to salvation," rejoined Esclairmonde. 
 "Oh! Crichton, if I have any influence over your heart 1 
 would now exert it — if, as the humble instrument of the divine 
 will, I can wean you from the dangerous and idolatrous creed to 
 which you are bigoted, the whole of my future life shall evince 
 the extent of my gratitude and devotion." 
 
 " Esclairmonde !" exclaimed Crichton, mournfully, " for that 
 creed I have quitted my father's roof — for that creed I have braved 
 a father's malediction — for that creed I now renounce all I hold 
 dear on earth. We must part for ever." 
 
 " Crichton, you love me not." 
 
 " Let the sacrifice I have just made attest my love," returned 
 the Scot, bitterly. " Tempt me not, Esclairmonde. My bosom is 
 torn asunder by conflicting emotions — my brain reels — I cannot 
 support this struggle longer. Your own lips shall seal my fate." 
 
THE DUNGEON. 329 
 
 " Be mine, then." 
 
 A shudder ran through Crichton's frame. 
 
 " I am lost," he murmured. 
 
 " No, you are saved," replied the princess, triumphantly; " kneel 
 with me at the feet of this holy man." 
 
 " Hold!" exclaimed Chretien; " this must not be. Gladly as I 
 would number the Chevalier Crichton among the faithful ser- 
 vants of the true God, his conversion must be accomplished by 
 other influence than that of the passions. Evil means cannot work 
 good ends. The faith which is not the result of conviction is 
 little better than hypocris}'. Differing as I do with him upon essen- 
 tial points of religious credence, I applaud the Chevaher Crichton's 
 constancy: — nor would I attempt to shake it save by arguments 
 such as my brief span of llle will not permit me to employ; and I 
 must think better of a creed which can strengthen the bosom of 
 one so young against snares and temptations that hoary zealots 
 might have iound it difficult to resist." 
 
 " Your hand has arrested my downfal, good father," said 
 Crichton. 
 
 " I rejoice at it, my son," replied, the preacher. " Fly while 
 your resolution still continues. I would not incur your reproaches. 
 You must part from the princess, but not, I hope, for ever. A 
 time — not far distant — may arrive when your opinions will un- 
 dergo a change, and when she may bestow her hand without 
 violating her sacred promise." 
 
 A tear stood in Esclairmonde's eye as she regarded her lover, 
 and, unable to control herself, she fell into his outstretched arms. 
 
 " When 1 uttered that fatal vow, 1 pronounced my own sentence 
 of death," she cried. 
 
 " Alas !" returned Crichton, " I would have prevented it — but it 
 is now too late." 
 
 " It is," rejoined Chretien, in a severe tone. " Depart quickly. 
 You interrupt my devotions. I would prepare for eternity." 
 
 " Father," said Crichton, " I trust you will have a longer period 
 for that preparation than your persecutors would allow you. Your 
 life is of more consequence than mine; the services which you can 
 render the Princess Esclairmonde are greater tlian I can render her. 
 Live then for her." 
 
 " You speak in parables, my son," returned the preacher, in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Take this mantle and this ring," said Crichton, "and your 
 evasion is easy. It is the signet of the king. Display it to the 
 guard at the portals of the Louvre, and the gates will fly open at 
 your approach. Waste no time, but muffle up your features, and 
 figure in this cloak." 
 
 " And you ?" 
 
 *' Heed me not. I will remain here in your stead." 
 
 " I cannot accept freedom on such terms, my sou." 
 
330 CKICHTON. 
 
 " Hear me, good fatlier," replied Crlchton, earnestly. " You 
 go not forth alone. Esclairinonde must accompany you. If she 
 returns to the masque she is lost." 
 
 " Gracious heaven !" exclaimed the preacher. 
 
 " Henri's plans are so contrived that she cannot escape him. 
 The King of Navarre is the dupe of his royal brother, and will 
 unwittingly increase the risk, if not precipitate the fate of his new- 
 found cousin, in the wild scheme he has devised for her flight. 
 Catherine de jNIedicis is occupied with her own dark designs. But 
 she will not interfere with, if she declines to forward, those of her 
 son. An hour hence the Louvre may be the scene of fiercest 
 strife. But an hour hence it may be too late to save the princess 
 from dislionour." 
 
 " And your life will be the sacrifice of your devotion?" said 
 Esclairmonde. " No, I will rather return to the banquet, and 
 place myself under the protection of Henri of Navarre." 
 
 " He is unable to protect you," replied Crichton. " Fear nothing 
 for me." 
 
 " AVhv should not you accompany the princess, Chevalier 
 Cricliton?" asked the preacher. 
 
 " Question me not, but go," replied Crichton, hastily: " her life, 
 her honour is endangered by this delay." 
 
 " I will not consent to your destruction," said Esclairmonde, 
 passionately. 
 
 " You destroy me by remaining," rejoined Crichton; " a moment 
 more, and it may be too late." 
 
 As he spoke, the iron door revolved upon its hinges, and a 
 huissier, bearing a flambeau, entered the cell, and in a loud voice 
 announced " The king." 
 
 Accompanied by Marguerite de Valois, Henri IH. immediately 
 followed this announcement. A malicious smile played upon the 
 features of the monarch as he noticed the dismay of the group at 
 his appearance. " You were right in your conjecture, sister," he 
 said, turning to the Queen of Navarre; "our stray turtle-doves 
 have flown hither. The prison of a Huguenot is as favourable, I 
 find, to the assignations of love as the bower of a Phryne. JNlessire 
 Florent Chretien might, perhaps, have found fitter occupation for 
 his latest moments than to assist at such a rendezvous. But it is 
 quite in character with his doctrines. His meditations, however, 
 shall not be longer disturbed. The damps of this cell strike chilly 
 on my senses alter the perfumed atmosphere I have quitted. Prin- 
 cess of Conde," he continued, advancing towards Esclairmonde, 
 who recoiled at his approach, " the masque claims your presence." 
 
 "Sire," replied the princess, firmly, "I will rather remain a 
 captive for life within this dungeon than return to your polluted 
 halls." 
 
 "Obey him," whispered Crichton; " I may yet be able to de- 
 liver you from this perilous strait." 
 
THE DUNGEON. 331 
 
 *' Our attendants are at liand, fair cousin," said the king, signifi- 
 cantly; "I neither mean to detain them as prisoners, nor to en- 
 danger my own heahh, by longer continuance in this unwholesome 
 vault." 
 
 " Go, my daughter," said Chretien; " the Power that watches 
 over innocence will protect you. Fear nothing." 
 
 "Your hand, fair cousin," said Henri, impatiently. 
 
 " Your majesty will not refuse to conduct me to the King Oi 
 Navarre ?" said Esclairmonde, reluctantly complying with the 
 monarch's request. 
 
 " Of a surety not," rejoined Henri, smiling; " but you will find 
 him so completely engrossed by the languishing regards of La 
 Rebours, that he will scarcely desire your company." 
 
 '"Indeed !" exclaimed the princess, starting. 
 
 " Chevalier Crichton," said Henri, pausing, " you have dis- 
 obeyed our injunctions. Henceforth you are banished from our 
 presence." 
 
 " Henri," Interposed Marguerite de Valols, " for my sake over- 
 look his fault." 
 
 "For yoMr sake, IMarguerlte !" returned the king, In surprise; 
 " a moment ago you would have changed his banishment to death." 
 
 " Tax me with inconsistency If you will; but grant my request." 
 
 '■'■ Souveiit Jcimiie varie,^' returned Henri, laughing; "be it as 
 you please. To banish him from the revel might tend to throw a 
 shade over its gaiety. Retain him by your side, and I am content. 
 
 "Marguerite," said Crichton, as the Queen of Navarre took his 
 arm, " your generosity has saved your brother's crow^i." 
 
 " If it has revived your love I am satisfied," returned Marguerite, 
 tenderly. 
 
 " You may revive It, my queen," said Crichton. 
 
 "In what way?" demanded Marguerite, trembling with eager- 
 ness. — " But I can guess. You require my assistance to free the 
 Princess of Conde from her present danger. You shall have it." 
 
 " Yours Is a noble heart, Marguerite." 
 
 " It Is a faithful and a fond one, Crichton. Trifle not with i 
 tenderness." 
 
 " If I survive this night, my life is yours." 
 
 " Survive it. Crichton! — what mean you?" 
 
 " I am half distracted, Marguerite. But linger not. Ilenn 
 already gone." 
 
 " And Esclairmonde," added the queen, with a look of jealous 
 reproach. 
 
 Many minutes had not elapsed after their departure, when 
 Chretien, who had again addressed himself to his devotions, was 
 aroused by the harsh voice of the hooded official, who commanded 
 him to arise. The good man instantly obeyed. The cell was 
 filled with a crowd of figures in sable robes and masks. 
 
332 CRICHTON. 
 
 " Thy last hour is come," said the official. 
 
 " I am prepared," returned Chretien, in a firm tone. " Lead me 
 forth." 
 
 While the hands o( tlic preacher were bound together, the voice 
 of a priest, who formed one of the dismal group, thundered forth 
 the following psalm : — " Exurge, quare obdormis Domine? exurge, 
 et ne repellas in finem : quare faciem tuam avertis? oblivisceris 
 tribulationem nostram: adhajsit in terra venter noster: exurge, 
 Domine, adjuva nos. et libera nos." 
 
 Cliretien was then conducted through a variety of Intricate pas- 
 sages to the edge of the Seine, now lighted up by the lurid glare 
 of the torches borne by the expectant crowds on the other side of 
 tlie river, and being placed in a barque was rowed swiftly over to 
 the Pre-aux-clercs, where a fierce shout of exultation welcomed his 
 arrival. 
 
 " Kindle the pile," shouted a thousand voices; " let the heretic 
 die!" 
 
 " We are starved to death," cried the Sorbonist; " and want a 
 fire to warm us — to the stake — quick — quick ! 
 
 Death to the Huguenot! — fagot and flame! 
 Death to the Huguenot! — torture and shame!" 
 
 The red glare which shortly afterwards tinged the inky waterp 
 of the Seine Avas the reflection of Chretien's funeral pyre. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Dis-moi, mon maitre, comment crois-tu que finira cet imbroglio? 
 
 L. ViTET. Les Barricades. 
 
 When the royal party returned to the masque the festivity of 
 the evcninfT was at its height. The music was breathing its softest 
 strains — the cavaliers were whispering their most impassioned love- 
 speeches — the dames were makinir their tenderest responses. The 
 universal freedom that prevailed gave the revel somewhat of the 
 character of an orgie. Esclairmonde shrunk back as she beheld 
 the license of the scene, and would have retreated, had retreat 
 been possible. But Henri hurried her quickly onwards. 
 
 "The King of Navarre is seated near yon beaufet," he said; 
 " his right hand grasps a goblet, while his left is passed around the 
 waist of his mistress. We shall be rather in the way. No matter. 
 I am ready to commit you to his care." 
 
 Esclairmonde hesitated. 
 
 " At all events we had better wait till he has finished his song," 
 continued Henri; "for it is evident liom his gestures that he is 
 pouring forth his passion in vcr?e. In the mean time, you will 
 oblige us by resuming your musk, fair cousin." 
 
I 
 
 THE CONSPIRACY. 333 
 
 As the princess complied with the monarch's request, Henri of 
 Navarre arose. Taking the hand of his partner, he hastened to 
 join the dancers, and was quickly lost to view. 
 
 " You must, perforce, remain with me a few moments longer," 
 said Henri; " let us take our station within yon embrasure, whence 
 we can command the room, and as soon as the bransle is ended, I 
 will summon the Bearnais to oizr presence." 
 
 Esclairmonde suffered herself to be led towards the window. As 
 they proceeded thither, Henri ventured to take her hand within 
 his own. 
 
 " Sire," she said, gently endeavouring to withdraw it from his 
 grasp, " I will only consent to remain with you, on the condition 
 that you do not renew the suit which has liitherto so much dis- 
 tressed me" 
 
 " Your condition is a hard one, fair cousin; but I will strive to 
 obey you." 
 
 The princess looked around for Crichton. Amid the crowd of 
 gay masks, however, that surrounded her, she could not discern his 
 stately figure, or that of Marguerite de Valois. " He has left me," 
 she mentally ejaculated; " that royal syren has regained all her in- 
 fluence over his soul." 
 
 Henry divined her thoughts. " My sister has imposed no such 
 condition on her lover as you would impose on me, fair cousin," 
 he said. " Their quarrel is evidently arranged, and he is restored 
 to his old place in her affections." 
 
 "Sire!" 
 
 " They have disappeared. Shall we pay another visit to the 
 oratory ?" 
 
 " Suffer me to join the queen-mother, sire. I perceive her 
 majesty in the further salon conversing with the Due de Nevers." 
 
 "With De Nevers," repeated Henri, angrily. " No, ma mie, I 
 cannot part with you thus. I have a word or two to say respecting 
 this Admirable Scot. A little more this way, fair coz. I would 
 not be overheard. AYhat if I tell you that Crichton's life hangs 
 on your compliance." 
 
 " His life, sire?" gasped Esclairmonde. 
 
 "Your hand alone can arrest the sword that trembles o'er his head." 
 
 " You terrify me, sire." 
 
 " I would not do so, mignonne," replied Henri; " ^n the con- 
 trary, I wish to re-assure you. Princess," he added, passionately, 
 "it is in your power to save him." 
 
 " I understand your majesty," said Esclairmonde, coldly. 
 
 "Not entirely," returned the king; " you may divine my mo- 
 tive, but you (fcarcely, I think, foresee the proposal I am about to 
 make to you. I must premise by recounting the history of my 
 earliest amourette. Renee de Rieux, my first mistress, before I 
 beheld her, had disposed of her heart to PhiHppe Altoviti." 
 
 " Spare me this recital, sire." 
 
J 34 CRiciiTo:,-. 
 
 " She is no'.v his consort. You love the Chevalier Crichton. 
 On the same terms you shall be his bride." 
 
 " I am the daughter of Louis of Bourbon, sire." 
 
 " The Chevalier Crichton shall be a peer of France." 
 
 " Were the King of France to sue for my hand I would refuse 
 liim !" replied Esclairmonde, haughtily; "let him seek out his 
 minions among those complaisant dames who, because be waking, 
 have nothing to refuse him." 
 
 *' You have sealed your lover's fate, fair cousin," rejoined Henri. 
 " Du Halde," added he, motioning to the chief valet, " bid the 
 Due de Nevers attend us." 
 
 " Sire," said Esclairmonde, becoming pale as death, but speak- 
 ing in a firm tone, " take heed how you proceed to extremities. I 
 am. a woman, and a threat from me may weigh little with your 
 majesty. But, it from mere jealous anger, and on no just ground, 
 you adjudge a knight, loyal and true as Crichton, to a sliameful 
 death, such vengeance as one of my sex may take, I will have. 
 Look to it, sire. INIy threat is neither aar idle nor a light one." 
 
 "Par la J\Iort-dieu !" exclaimed Henri; "if I had entertained 
 any doubts as to your origin, fair cousin, the spirit you have just 
 displayed would have removed them. The fire of the old Bour- 
 bons is not extinct. 1 accept your defiance. Crichton dies — or 
 you are mine. Decide, for here comes his executioner." 
 
 " I answer, as the Chevalier Crichton would," replied Esclair- 
 monde, " Death rather than dishonour." 
 
 Whatever reply Henri meditated was cut short by a merry peal 
 of laughter from a party of frolic dames who occupied a fauteuil 
 near them, and the voice of the Abbe de Brantome was heard 
 reciting the following lines, which produced a very edifying effect 
 upon the fair auditors : 
 
 Saint Augustin, one day, in a fair maiden's presence, 
 
 Declared that pure love of the soul is the essence! 
 
 And that faith, be it ever so firm and potential, 
 
 Tf love be not its base, must prove un-influential. 
 
 Saint Bernard, likewise, has a homih- left us — 
 
 (Sole remnant of those, of M'hicli fate hath bereft us!) 
 
 Where the good Saint confers, without any restriction, 
 
 On those who love most, his entire benediction. 
 
 Saint Ambrose, again, in his treatise, " De Viryme," 
 
 To love one another is constantly urging ye; 
 
 And a chapter he adds, where he curses — not blesses — 
 
 The ill-fated wight who no mistress possesses ! 
 
 "Wise De Lyra, hereon, makes this just observation, 
 
 That the way to the heart is the way to salvation; 
 
 And the further from love — we're the nearer damnation 
 
 Besides, as remarks this profound theologian, 
 
 (Who was perfectly versed in the doctrine Ambrogian) — 
 
 He, who loves not, is worse than the infamous set ye call 
 
 Profane, unbelieving, schismatic, heretical • 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. ."i^ > 
 
 For. if he the fire of one rcijion sliould smother. 
 He is sure to be soorclicil b}' tlie fliinics of the other! 
 And tliis is the reason, perhaps, why Saint Gregory 
 (The Tope, wlio reduced the stout Arians to beggary) 
 Averred — (keep this counsel for ever before ye) 
 That the lover on earth has his sole purgatory! 
 
 peroration. 
 
 Let your minds then be Avrapp'd in devout contemplation 
 Of the precepts convcj'M by this grave exliortation; 
 Be loving, beloved, and never leave off — it's 
 The way to fulfil both the law and the prophets! 
 
 To return to Crichton. Upon entering tlic grand salon the 
 Scot detached himself from INIarguerite de Valois, and hastily re- 
 suming his mask, proceeded with a quick step in the direction of 
 tlic quccn-mothcr. Catherine, at that moment, Avas engaged in 
 deep conference witli the Due de Nevers, and the Scot was enabled 
 to approacli her tmpcrceived. Stationing himself behind a pillar, 
 his quick car failed not to catch each word of their discourse, 
 though it was carried on for the most part in whispers. 
 
 " And the Due d'Anjou, you say, madamc, alarmed at the dis- 
 covery of his letter contained in the missal, has quitted the Louvre 
 ■without striking a blow?" said De Nevers. 
 
 " The moment I received your billet I despatched it to him by 
 a faithful messenger," returned Catherine. " Apprehensive of dis- 
 covery, he fled." 
 
 " Confusion!" muttered the duke; "his head was to have been 
 the price of my lieutenant-generalship. Henri will dare nothing 
 against the queen-mother." 
 
 " You are thoughtful. Monsieur le Due," said Catherine, sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " I am full of regret that our plot is defeated," replied De 
 Nevers. 
 
 " It is not nltcrhj defeated," answered the queen. 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " What Anjou dared not do I will execute alone." 
 
 " You, madame?" 
 
 " Failing in my attempts upon the honesty of our incorruptible 
 Scot, I have found a harul as sure as his, and less reluctant. Hold 
 your partisans in readiness, De Nevers. Henri dies to-night." 
 
 " And your majesty can fully rely upon the instrument of your 
 will ?" 
 
 " Fully," replied Catherine; " he is a Spanish bravo, accustomed 
 to the use of the stiletto — and will not need to repeat the blow." 
 
 " 'Tis well," rejoined the duke — " and the signal?" 
 
 " AVill be the king's assassination," suid Catherine. "Mark 
 me, De Nevers. I will contrive that Henri and Crichton shall 
 enter the oval chamber together. The assassin is already posted 
 behind the arras. As the king passes he will strike. Do you and 
 
336 CEICHTON. 
 
 your attendants rush in at the cry and despatch the Scot. Hew 
 him down without mercy. Henri's death will lie at his door." 
 
 " It shall be done, madame." 
 
 " Ah ! here comes Du Halde. We must separate." 
 
 Possessed of the plans of his enemies, Crichton hastened back to 
 Marguerite de Valois, who awaited his return with impatience. 
 " To the oval chamber, my queen," he said; " quick — quick." 
 
 "Wherefore?" demanded Marguerite. 
 
 " Henri's life is menaced by an assassin," replied Crichton. " I 
 must seek him, and apprise him of his danger." 
 
 " Henri is there already," returned Marguerite. " He has this 
 moment entered that chamber with Esclairmonde." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Crichton, darting from her; "I maybe too 
 late to save him " 
 
 It will be necessary to return for a moment to the Princess of 
 Conde. After rejecting Henri's proposal in the disdainful manner 
 described, and in order to escape from his further assiduities, while 
 he lent an attentive ear to Brantome's homily, Esclairmonde re- 
 tired into the embrasure, and throwing open the window, stepped 
 forth upon the balcony. A terrible spectacle was presented to her 
 view. In the midst of a bright and spiring flame which mounted 
 high in the still air of night, brilliantly illuminating a confused 
 mass of threatening figures, hung a black and shapeless object. 
 The princess turned aside in horror. Just then a loud exulting 
 roar arose from the multitude. The remains of the martyred 
 Chretien had dropped into the devouring element. Esclairmonde 
 heard no more. She fell, without sense, into the arms of Henri, 
 and, by his command, was instantly conveyed to the oval chamber. 
 
 When Crichton arrived at the doors of this chamber he found 
 them closed. Two huissiers stationed before them peremptorily 
 refused him admittance. 
 
 "Follow me," said Marguerite de Valois; " I will show you a 
 secret entrance to the room." 
 
 Passing through a suite of apartments with the rapidity of 
 thought, Crichton and the queen reached a small ante-chamber, 
 in the corner of wliich, a suite of tapestry having been removed by 
 Marguerite, a masked door Avas disclosed. Another valve admitted 
 them to the oval chamber. 
 
 "Help!" exclaimed Henri, who, pursued by Caravaja with a 
 drawn dagger in his hand, flew in the direction of the sound — 
 " an assassin ! help !" 
 
 " Sangre di Dios ! I have missed my first blow," cried the 
 Spaniard, catching hold of Henri's mantle — " but this shall find 
 the way to thy heart, tyrant." 
 
 But as he uttered the words, the sword of Crichton passed 
 through his body, and he fell heavily upon the person of the king, 
 which he deluged with his blood. 
 
 "Crichton!" exclaimed Esclairmonde, aroused from her insensi- 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 337 
 
 billty Lv Henri's outcries; "ah! wliat do I behold ?— the kin'^ 
 assassinated ! 
 
 "No, fair cousin," replied Henri, extricating himself with diffi- 
 culty from the gripe, which death had not relaxed, tixed by the 
 Spaniard upon his cloak. " The Virgin be praised, I have escaped 
 without injury — though not without alarm. Chevalier Crichton, 
 let those doors be thrown open." 
 
 The command was obeyed ; and the monarch, pale, trembling, 
 and covered with blood, was revealed to the general gaze. By his 
 side stood Crichton witli his drawn sword in his hand, still giving 
 ghastly evidence of the execution he had done. Amid the uni- 
 versal consternation that prevailed, the voice of the Due de Nevers 
 ■was heard exclaiming — 
 
 " The king is mortally wounded — the assassin stands before us. 
 It is Crichton. Slay him ! Cut liim in pieces !"' 
 
 " Hold !" ejaculated Henri, checking the movement of this 
 faction. "lam unhurt, messieurs," he continued, addressing the 
 guard ; " I command you to attach the person of the Due de 
 Nevers, wliom avc accuse of leze-majeste and treason. — Madame,*' 
 added he, turning to Catherine, " you will answer me on the same 
 charges." 
 
 " At once, and boldly, my son," replied the queen-mother. 
 *' You arc deceived. The sole traitor stands by your side. I 
 will prove tlie Chevalier Crichton guilty of the crimes you have 
 imputed to me." 
 
 " Let Cosmo Ruggieri stand forth," said Crichton. 
 
 At this summons the astrologer forced his way through the 
 crowd. 
 
 " What liast tliou to advance against me?" demanded the queen, 
 imperiously. 
 
 " That you have conspired against the life of the king, your son, 
 and against his crown," returned Ruggieri, firmly, "and that the 
 Due de Nevers is your accomplice. Will your majesty deign to 
 regard this scroll?" 
 
 " It is thine own condemnation, Ruggieri," said Henri, glancing 
 at the document; " thou art deeply imphcated in this conspiracy." 
 
 " I deny it not," replied the astrologer; "let equal justice be 
 dealt upon all who have betrayed you." 
 
 " Ruggieri," said the king, " thy doom is the galleys. De Nevers 
 shall lose his head. For you, madame," he added, looking at the 
 queen-mother, "I will reilect upon your sentence." 
 
 "1 am content," said Ruggieri, with a look of gratified revenge; 
 ' one of these accursed Gonzagas will fall by my hands." 
 
 "Away with him," said Henri. "Chevalier Crichton," he 
 added, embracing the Scot, " you are my preserver, and henceforth 
 my brother. I have played the tyrant and tlie hbertine long 
 enough. I will now endeavour to assume the part of the generous 
 
 z 
 
338 CRICHTOX. 
 
 monarch. The hand of the Piinccss of Conde is yours — ha ! what 
 means this hesitation?" 
 
 " Sire! a greater obstacle than you have raised divides us," re- 
 phed Crichton; " our creeds are different." 
 
 " What of that?" said Henri of Navarre, -who had joined the 
 group; " Marguerite de Valois is a Cathohc. I am a Protestant." 
 
 " An excellent example, certes," said Chicot, screaming with 
 laughter. 
 
 " There is one favour which you can confer, sire, and which I 
 can accept," said Crichton. 
 
 " Name it." 
 
 " The freedom of the King of Navarre." 
 
 " It is granted," replied Henri, " on condition that he takes his 
 queen with him." 
 
 " Excuse me, sire," replied the Bourbon. " I have too much 
 consider? jon to separate her from the Admirable Crichton. Fair 
 cousin of Conde, you will accompany me. His majesty has pro- 
 mised you a fitting escort." 
 
 " I have," replied Henri; " but I would rather find her a fitting 
 husband." 
 
 " Crichton," said Esclairmonde, blushingly turning towards her 
 lover, " have I your dispensation if I break my vow?" 
 
 " From the bottom of my heart," replied Crichton, passionately. 
 " And I begin to find I am not so staunch a Catholic as I fancied 
 myself when I quitted Florent Chretien's cell." 
 
 " I would be of any creed for the woman I love," said the 
 Bourbon. 
 
 " And I," said Henri HI. 
 
 " Then no more need be said about the matter, ' cried Chicot. 
 '* Let us send for a priest at once. He will remove every diffi- 
 culty. Points of faith are easily settled where love plays the 
 umpire." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 During Crichton's residence in Venice in the autumn of the year 
 1580, when, as he himself has told us, 
 
 Dum procul a Tatria Iladriaci propc litora Ponti 
 Consedi, 
 
 when liis eloquence liad electrified the doge and the asscmhled signory — 
 when he had disputed in iitrainque partem upon the subtile doctrines of 
 the Thomists and Scotists (a parte rei, et a parte f7ie?itis) with the learned 
 Padre Fiamma, e con molti altri valorosi prelati, in the presence of the 
 Cardinal Ludovico D'Este, tlie patron of Tasso, and the brother of 
 Alfonso II., Duke of Ferrara ; had discussed with the Greek theologians, 
 in the house of the Patriarch of Aquilela, the mysterious subject of the 
 procession of the Holy Ghost, overwhelming his opponents with the 
 weight of authorities which he adduced ; had astonished the ready Italian 
 improvisatore by a faculty more wonderful than his own ; had confounded 
 the mathematician, the astrologer, and the cabalist ; had foiled the most 
 expert swordsman, and the most brilliant wit at their own weapons — 
 when his grace and beauty had captivated many a fair signora, and his 
 unequalled prowess in the revel and the masque had driven many a rival 
 gallant to despair ; and when, at length, satiated with enjoyment, and 
 crowned with success, to escape from the enervating allurements of the 
 sea Phryne, he crossed her blue lagoons, and secluaed himself in some 
 villa on the Brenta, to prepare for that final triumph which he was 
 destined so gloriously to achieve in the three days' disputation held in the 
 Chiesa San Giovanni e Paolo ; then it was, that Aldus Manutius, 
 prompted by his ardent admiration of the youthful Scot, or urged to the 
 task by the curiosity of his noble correspondent, furnished Jacomo Buon- 
 compagno, Duke of Sora, an eminent patron of men of letters, and bro- 
 ther to the reigning pontiff, Gregory XIII., with the following particulars 
 of the mostro de mostri. 
 
 Relatione della qualila di Jacomo di Crettoxe fatta da Aldo Manctio al 
 DucA DI Souk Ad'u Otlobre, 1581.* 
 
 Lo ScozzESE detto Jacomo di Crettone o giovane di xx anni, finiti alii 19 
 d'Agosto passato, grande di statura, di pelo biondo, e d'aspctto bellissimo. Pos- 
 siedo diece lingue, la latina piu bella et piu pronta di quella di Monsignore 
 
 * Kelatione delle qualita di Jacomo di Cretone fotta da Aldo ^Manutio all 
 lllustrimo ed eccelentissimo S. Jacomo Eoncompafino Duca di Sora e Gover. 
 Gen. di S. C. In Venegia, :\I.DLXXXI Apprcsso Aldo. 
 
 z 2 
 
340 APPENDIX. 
 
 Moretto,* la Francese ed Italiana in eccellenza, la Greca bellissima e ne fa 
 epigrammi, I'Hebrea, la Caldea, la Spagnuola, la Fiamenga, Inglesa, Scozzesa, e 
 intende la Tedesca. Possiede Filosofia, Theologia, Mathematica, ed Astrologia, 
 e tiene tutti i calcoli fatti sin ad lioggi per falsi. Di Filosofia e Theologia ha 
 disputato piu volte in questa Citta con li primi letterati di questa professione con 
 stupore di tutti. Ha perfettissima cognitione della Cabala, e di memoria tale che 
 non sa she cosa sia il dimenticarsi ed ogni oratione udita da lui recita a parola 
 per parola. Fa versi all' improviso di tutti li metri, e di tutte le materie vulgare 
 e latine e ne fa improvise e belle. Ragiona di cose di stato con fondamento. 
 Cortegiano con maraglivi e gratissimo nelle consnltationi, soldato a tutta botta, e 
 ha speso due anni in Francia alia guerra con carico assai honorato; salta e balla 
 per eccellenza; armeggia e giuoca d'ogni sorta d'armi e ne ha fatto qui la prova; 
 maneggiatore aggarbato di cavalli, giostratore singolare, di sangue nobile anzi per 
 madre Regale Stuardo.f Ha disputato con greci in casa del Nuntio e del Pa- 
 triarca d'Aquilela in materia della processione del Spirito Santo con grande ap- 
 plauso e con grandissinia copia d'autorita de Dottori e consigli come Aristotele e 
 commentatori alle mani recitando le facciate intiere non che le righe greche. Sa 
 tutto S. Thomaso, Scoto, Thomisti e Scotisti a mente, e disputa in utramque 
 partem, il che ha fatto felicemente I'altro giorno col Padre Fianima, e con niolti 
 altri valorosi Prelati alia presenza di ^lonsignore lllustrissimo il Cardinale da 
 Este. Volse il Patriarca e la Signora udirlo e ne restorono maravigliosi e stupe- 
 fatti; da 8. Serenita fu premiato di 200 scudi. In somma e mostro de mostri, e 
 tale che niolti udendo cosi fatte qualita in un sol corpo benissimo proportionato e 
 lontano dalla malinconia fanno di molte chimere. Hieri si ridusse fuori in villa, 
 per stendere due mila conclusioni le quali in tutte le perfettione vole mantenere 
 qui in Venetia nelle Chiesa di S. Giovan e Paolo; fra dae mesi tutto in mondo 
 corre per udirlo. 
 
 There is only one perplexing' point about this letter ; and if I could 
 follow my Uncle Toby's advice to Corporal Trim, and "leave out the 
 date entirely," much tedious speculation might be spared. For the 
 genuineness of the edition in my possession — that it is actually, as its 
 title states, appresso Aldo — I cannot vouch. Counterfeits of the pro- 
 ductions of this celebrated press are too numerous and too skilful to suffer 
 me to hazard such an assertion. But at all events it is, beyond doubt, a 
 facsimile of the original. Obtained from Milan, my copy consists of a few 
 leaves, yellow with age, with the device of the elder Aldus on the title-page, 
 
 * The famous jNIarcus Antonius Muretus, the friend of the Manutii, and one 
 of the most profound scholars of his day. He was succeeded in the Roman 
 chair of philosophy by the younger Aldus. The wonderful skill of Muretus in 
 Latin versification will readily be conceived when it is stated that he palmed 
 certain scenes of his own composition upon the learned Joseph Scaliger as frag- 
 ments of two ancient comic writers, Attius and Trabea, which that great philo- 
 logist unhesitatingly introduced into his edition of Terentius Varro. 
 
 f Compare the above description with the following passage from the " Dedica- 
 tion to the Paradoxes of Cicero," subsequently published by Aldus: — "Magna 
 sunt ista profecto, et inaudita. mediocria tamen, si cetera spectemus; quod, 
 scilicet decem linguarum, multorum idiomatum, omnium disciplinarum cog- 
 nitionem ante vigessimum primum aetatis annum, sis adeptus; et digladiandi, 
 saltandi, omnium gymnasticarum exercitationum, et equitandi studia, tanta cum 
 alacritate ingenii, animique huraanitate, mansuetudine, et facilate conjunxeris, ut 
 nihil te admirabilius reperiri possit. Sed non innumerabiles vitae tuae transacts 
 laudes; non mirificam illam coram Serenissimo Principe ac Illustrissimis Venetse 
 Reipublicse proceribus actionem; non subtilissimas tuas de Theologia, philo- 
 sophia et rebus Mathematicis, disputationes in plerisque maximorum hominum 
 concessibus, recensebo; non tantorum hominum ad te videndum concursum, ut 
 olim Platoni a Sicilia revertenti, relicto Olympico spectaculo, tota Atheniensium 
 celebritas occurrisse fertur ; cum te omnes, signo rubeae Rosae, quod tibi natura 
 circa dextru'm lumen impressit, tamquam unicara et raram in terris avem, 
 homines cognoscerent." 
 
APPENDIX. 341 
 
 and purports to have been printed "in Venegia, M.DLXXXI." The 
 memoir is not mentioned by Renouard ; nor is it included in the small 
 quarto volume of the letters of Aldus Manutius, published at Rome, 
 none of which, as Dr. Black observes (for I have not seen the collection). 
 \3 written prior to 1585. Having premised thus mucli, I shall procec 
 with my reasons for the emendation of the date, which, I conceive, 
 should be the tentli of October, 1580, not 81. From another contem- 
 porary authority (a manuscript chronicle cited by Serassi, the writer of 
 which evidently derived his information from Aldus) we learn that 
 Crichton reached Venice "ne/ mese (TAgosto del 1580." Coupling' 
 this intelligence with the final passage of the Relatione, *^fra due mesi 
 tutto ilmondo corre per tidirln," we have the exact period of his arrival 
 and departure, and my hypothesis is confirmed. He remained in Venice 
 two months. And here 1 mav note that the Affiche (the date of which 
 is 1580) is made, owing to its faulty punctuation, to announce to the 
 learned world tliat Crichton's disputation in the Church of Saint John 
 and I'aul would take place loifhin two months; whereas we are expressly 
 told by Aldus Manutius, who was not only the adviser, but a spectator, 
 of this memorable controversy, that it commenced on the day of Pen- 
 tecost. 1581. Aldus, indeed, seems to refer to some such panegyric as 
 tills Relatione, when he states iu the " Dedication to the Paradoxes of 
 Cicero," *' nunc vero etiain Icetor, toii Italice, et orbi fortasse terrarum 
 universo perspectum esse JuUiriu'n de te meum, ft b.a. quae cum iiic 
 VKMSSES SCRIPTIS coMMEND.wr ;" and mark what follows, '■'■ quce tdti 
 ipsi, ac nonnidlis acerrtmis censoribus, aspira atque hijucunda vide- 
 bantur. Xam, licet turn amorem malui ostendere, qnampriidentiam, 
 7iunc ambo, cum amicis tuu;, tuni inimicis, si qui amvlius tarn feri atquc 
 inhumani repcriuntur, manifcsla sunt, postquam tuj, virtus (am claruin 
 sui splendorem diffudit."' IiiHut^nced by a desire to serve his fiiend, the 
 great printer may have allowed his letter to the Duke of Sora to be 
 widely circulated, and perhaps connived at its publication by tlie brothers 
 Guerra, for which injudicious zeal be appears to have incurred the cen- 
 sure, as well of the high-minded object of his adulation, as of those 
 envious detractors, which a celebrity like that of Crichton was certain to 
 awaken. That Dr. Black, after a careful investigation of the collected 
 letters of Aldus, could only discover this solitary passage, which he 
 thinks may relate to Crichton — " Sa V. S. Rhistrissima, che io sempre 
 functus sum officio cDtis, o deve ricordarsi dello Scozzese, il quale gode 
 la benignitd, e liberolita di cotesta Republica, favorito anche da lei, che 
 si tnosse e per favorir lui, e per obligor 7«e" — proves nothing. Aldus 
 might not probably desire to introduce his letter to Buoncompagno in a 
 volume containing a similar eulogy on the Polish Crichton, Stanislaus 
 Niegossevio, addressed to the same nobleman. 
 
 It follows, from what has been advanced, that upon the validity of the 
 evidence afforded by Aldus Manutius — whether considered as the author 
 or originator of the Affiche, the Relatione, the " Manuscript Chro- 
 nicle," or the " Dedication to the Paradoxes" (for they are one and the 
 same thing), rests Crichton's claim to that glorious epithet by which he 
 has since been distinguished. His mighty intellectual powers are attested 
 by Astolfo and Scaliger ; but his universal accomplishments and personal 
 graces are recorded by Imperialis, Dempster, David Buchanan, Johnston, 
 
342 APPENDIX. 
 
 and other later writers on tlie testimony of Aldus.* And that testimony, 
 notwithstanding it has been impugned by Doctors Kippis and Black, has 
 been satisfactorily shown by Mr. Fraser Tytler to be unimpeachable. 
 
 If any proof, indeed, were wanting of the sincerity of Aldus's affection 
 for, and admiration of, his friend, it would be found in tlio following 
 pathetic lament, -which (deceived by a false rumour of Cricl.ton's death) 
 lie inscribed to his memory : — 
 
 Aldus Manutics to the Memory of Jame-s Criciitox. 
 "0 Crichton, it is just that praise slioukl attend thy memory, since we have 
 been deprived of thee by an untimelj' death! Who is there that did not admire 
 thee in life? who that does not mourn thee dead? While alive, the judu'vent I had 
 formed nf thy merits was my honour and advantage; and now that thou art no more, 
 mycjriefis immeasurable. Would to God tliou wert yet alive, and that this fatal 
 land (though the native country of Virgil) had never possessed thee! For sucli 
 has been our wretched destiny, tliat the same land which to him gave birth, 
 should in this latter year deprive thee of life (alas, in thy tioenfy-second year, a 
 span of existence, though sufficient for thy glory, yet too short for us). For ever shall 
 I revere thy memory! For ever shall thy image be present to my eyes! To me 
 thou wilt ever be the same, ever cherished in my heart, as in the affections of all 
 worthy men! God grant that thy lot above may be the consummation of 
 heavenly felicity, as on earth thou wert ever attached to what was of heavenly 
 origin, and ever employed in the contemplation of such objects. O melancholy 
 day, the third of .July '. Tliis to thee I write, from this melancholy sojourn on 
 earth, to that heavenly habitation, with my earnest prayer for every blessing to 
 thy spirit."! 
 
 The date of this affectionate tribute is the 4th of November, 1583: it 
 is prefixed to the Aldine edition of " Cicero de Universitate." I mention 
 these circumstances because they are important to the consideration of 
 two inedited poems of Crichton, which have falleu into my hands, to 
 which I shall now proceed. 
 
 I do not know how I can better introduce the subject than in the 
 words of 3Ir. Tytler. " Serassi," says this gentleman, J "an author of 
 high character for accuracy, asserts that he has amongst his miscellanies 
 an ' Epicedlon,' written on the death of the Cardinal and Saint, Charles 
 Borromeo, by James Crichton, a Scotsman, and printed the very day 
 after his death. Serassi copies the title of this ' Epicedlon' verbatim, 
 and evidently must have had it before him when he wrote the passage. 
 All supposition of mistake upon his part is thus nearly precluded. The 
 coincidence of the two names, Jacobus Critonius, the additional appella- 
 tive Scotus, and the circumstance that the elegy was written, printed, 
 and published the day after the death of the cardinal, fixes the poem upon 
 James Crichton of Cluny ; as the improbability of the supposition that 
 
 * It may be curious to glance at the different terms of eulogy applied to 
 Crichton by various authors. By Aldus Manutius, in the Relatione and the 
 Affiche, he is styled ^^ mostro de mostri ,-" by the same writer, in the "Dedication 
 to the Paradoxes of Cicero," " vnicam et raram in ten-is avem ;" and in the address 
 prefixed to the " Dialogue de Amicitia," " divinam plane juvenem ;" by Astolfi, '■'■mustro 
 maraviglioso ;" by Imperialis, " sceculi monstrum — orbis phesnix — dcemoniuni prorsus ;" 
 by Scaliger, "ingenium prodigiosum ;" byBocalini (satirically), " il portento dinatura" 
 by Hotinus, " Phanix Critonius ;" by llonconius, '■'■ Ingenio Fhcenix " by Dempster, 
 " miraculum orbii ;" by Johnston, " omnibus in studiis adniirabilis ;" by Abernethy, 
 "Juvenis incomparabilis ;" and by Sir Thomas Urquhart he was first entitled, 
 "The Admirable Ckicuton." 
 
 t This translation appears In Dr. Black's " Life of Tasso." It was furnished 
 by Lord Woodhouselee. 
 
 J Life of Crichton, pp. 211-12 13 Second edition. 
 
^\ppEXDix. 343 
 
 there should have been another Scotsman Oi"" the nan:G of James Crich- 
 ton in Italy, in tlie year 1584, possessed of the same remarkable facility 
 in poetical composition, is quite apparent. And lastly, the subject on 
 which this elegy was composed, renders any error almost impossible. 
 Had it been a poem on any indifferent subject, or a prose work relating 
 to any disputed point in physics or in morals, we might have been allowed 
 to conjecture that the date 1584 was erroneous; but the death of the 
 cardinal, Charles Borromeo, fixes us down to a certain time. An ' Epi- 
 cedion' on this venerable character could not have been written anterior 
 to the year 1584. On the one hand, therefore, we have Aldus, Impe- 
 rialis, and all his succeeding biographers, fixing the death of Crichton to 
 the year 1582 or 1583; on the other hand, we have it asserted, that the 
 Admirable Crichton, on tbe 4th of November, 1584, composed an ' Epi- 
 cedion' on the Cardinal Borromeo. On which side the truth lies, must 
 be left for future writers to discern." 
 
 To this I answer by producing tlie " Epicedion*' in question. 
 
 Epicedium Illustrissimi bt Reverendissimi Cardinalis Caroli Boroji^i, ab 
 Iacobo Critonio Scoto, rogatd Clarissuii, Sujimaque in oPTisirM Pasto- 
 
 REM SUUM lUETATE, VIRI, lOANNIS AxTONII MaGII MeDIOT-ANEJI. FkOXIMO 
 post OIUTIM DIE EXARATUM. J)E CONSENSU SuPEKIOKUM. [MeDIOI iSI. EX. 
 
 TyroGUAriiiA Pacifici Pontij. m.dlxxxii:.] 
 
 IIcu pulla clamA-de, ct scissis Ek'Ejia capillis 
 
 Prodeat, ct calamus Kylogfa nacta nigros. 
 Nox crat, ct nia'stas ngitabam pectore curas, 
 
 II()ra<]ue nic noctis tcrtia vexat atrox. 
 Nulla datur rcquies; sod mens insaiia vagatur 
 
 ISenipcr, et objcctis horrot imaginibiis. 
 Ast tandem soro doclinant luniino soinno, 
 
 Et (dolor) obropunt somnia dira milii. y 
 
 Nanique fretuni ingressus portu prodirc vidcbar, 
 
 Quique ratcm rcgeret Navita nuUiis erat. 
 Ilic Epliyre, Drvmo, Cydippe, Glaucia, Doris, 
 
 Xanthia, Cyniodoce, Lysis et Opis erant. 
 Ha3c velut in gyruni diiplicato poplite fertur, v 
 
 Kcniigat lia;c pcdibus, nee rcsupina jacet. 
 Intonat horrisonu Cwlum se murinure miscens, 
 
 Him; Notus, liinc Boreas, Africus inde ruuut. 
 Involucre diem nubes, ca?ca;quo tenebrre 
 
 Insurgunt, et nox ingruit atra salo. 
 Deficit eximio spoliata carina Magistro, 
 
 Atquc procellosis ingemit icta notis. 
 Extiniui, steteruntquc coma-, et timer occupat artus, 
 
 Proh dolor, en veris somnia mixta noto. 
 Pro stupor, Arctois pcregrinus Scotus ab oris, 
 
 Nauckrum Latii defleo jure plum. 
 Flete Viri, lugete senes, discindite vultus 
 
 O pucri, lieu juvenes iinbre rigate genas. 
 Stridulus cmissis certatini ululatibus aether 
 
 liorreat, et liiicni non haboant geniitus. 
 [; Qualcs cum Troi;x; jam tuni Fortuna labaret, 
 
 Iliades scisso crine dcdere Nurus. 
 Ne niea suspensum teneant te nu tra, benigne 
 
 Lector, Cbristigcna; Navita, puppis hie est. 
 Carolus Lisubri 15oi<oji.i;us sanguine cretus, 
 
 Cui virtus claro sieimnate major crat. 
 Caroia's ODterno Borom.t.us Nuniine fultus. 
 
 Et misera; gcntis dux loret ille suje. 
 
344 APPENDIX. 
 
 Non prece, non pretio, non vi sed coelitus almam, 
 
 lllius texit purpura sacra caput, 
 Meuteque perpetua Cliristum spectabat Iesvu, 
 
 Purpureos inter gloria summa Patres. 
 Non aliter quam vel radiis soiaribus aether 
 
 Cynthia vel bigis nox taciturna suis. 
 Scilicet Insubres vitiorem mole ruentes, 
 
 Erexit prsesul dexteritate plus. 
 Erectosque manu valida fulcivit Ephebus, 
 
 Contudit et sacra Relligione scelus. 
 Hunc Deus elegit solidoe pietatis alumnum, 
 
 Ut niagnus patriae splendor ubique foret. 
 Sffipius ille homines media de morte recepit, 
 
 Quum pestis late serperet atra Lues. 
 Ille Dei classem reniis, velisque carentem 
 
 Instituit medio Fortius ire freto. 
 Et licet extinctus sit corpore nomine vivit, 
 
 Cujus faraa nitent pulsat utrumque polum. 
 In quo virtutes fixere sedilia cuncta', 
 
 De vitiisque ferunt alta troplia?a Deo. 
 Integritas animi, placidoque niodestia vultu, 
 
 Et nuUis probitas contemerata malis. 
 Despectu^que sui, legis respectus avitae, 
 
 Providus, et casto plenus aniore timor 
 Factis culta fides, non soils lumea verbis, 
 
 Sed supero accensas quae dat ab igne faces. 
 Aures nobilibus mites prfebebat; egeuis 
 
 Consuluit pariter nobilis ille parens. 
 Ergo non alio fas est hunc nomine dici. 
 
 Quam sua, quo, pietas nota sit, atque fides. 
 Sic virtute sua clarus, nee carmine nostro, 
 
 Laude nee alterius clarior esse potest. 
 Hand equidem varios cristallina globa colores 
 
 Tot dabit, hie morum quot simulachra nitent, 
 Et tanien (o Pietas) vitales exuit auras, 
 
 Et coeli proprias itque reditque vias. 
 Eheu nil valuit fugientem sistere vitam. 
 
 Ah nil morte homini certius esse patet. 
 Ilia malis requiem, metamque laboribus affert, 
 
 Omniaque alternas constat habere vices. 
 Sic pluvialis hyems, Zephyro spirante recedit. 
 
 Sic pia nauclerus proemia vester liabet. 
 Admonet ecce Deus, Deus sethere missus ab alto, 
 
 Currat ut in portus tuta carina suos. 
 Interea Praesul visit pia fana Varallae, 
 
 Ut praesagus olor fata subire parans. 
 Suncte, quem dederat, cursura Natura peregit, 
 
 Molliter ossa cubant, spiritus astra colit. 
 Quem nunc felicem, terris pelagoque relictis, 
 
 Eatidico cecinit Delphicus ore Deus.* 
 
 * A free translation of this Elegy will be found in the following page. A 
 copy alluded to by M. Eyries (the writer of the article on " Crichton" in the Biog. 
 UniverseUe) is preserved in the Bibliotheque du Roi at Paris, of which I have pro- 
 cured a transcript, agreeing in all respects with another impression obtained from 
 Milan. 
 
APPENDIX. S44 
 
 ISpicctiium ; 
 
 CARDINAL CARLO BORKOMEO 
 
 L 
 
 fVith black funereal robe, and tresses shorn, 
 O'erwlielnied with grief, sad Elegy appears; 
 
 And bv her side, sits Ecioga forlorn, 
 Blotting each line she traces with her teara 
 
 n. 
 
 *Twas night ! — long pondering on my secret woes, 
 The third hour broke upon my vigil lone ; 
 
 Far from my breast had sorrow cliased repose. 
 And fears presagetul threatened ills unknown. 
 
 III. 
 
 Slumber, at length, my heavy eyelids sealed ; 
 
 The self-same terrors scared me as I slept. 
 Portentous dreams events to come revealed, 
 
 And o'er my couch fantastic visions swept. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Upon the shoreless sea methought I sailed, 
 No helmsman steered the melancholy barque; 
 
 Around its sides the pitying Nereids wailed, 
 Cleaving with snow-white arms the waters dark. 
 
 V. 
 
 Cydippe, dolphin-borne, Ephj-ra fair, 
 
 And Xanthia leave their halcyon-haunted caves, 
 With Doris and Cymodece to share 
 
 The maddening strife of storm-awaken'd waves 
 
 VL 
 Drawn, unresisting, where the whirling gyre 
 
 Vexes the deep, thesliip her prow inclines; 
 ^^^lile. like a pharos' gleam, the lightning's fire 
 
 Over the raging vortex redly shines. 
 
 vir. 
 
 Mix'd with the thunder's roar that shakes the skiea, 
 Notus and Africua and Boreas sound ; 
 
 Black wreathing clouds, like shadowy legions, rise, 
 Shrouding the sea in midnight gloom profound. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 Disabled, straining, by tlie tempest lashed, 
 Reft of h<x storm-tried helmsman's guiding liandf 
 
 The vessel sinks I — amid the surges dashed, 
 Vainly I struggle — vainly cry for land! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Alas! stern truths with dreams illusive meet ! 
 
 Latium the shipwreck of lier hopes deplores ! 
 The pioua leader of the Insubrian fioet 
 
 i mourn — a wandering Scot from Norttiern shores I 
 
346 APPENDIX. 
 
 Weep, youths ! Trcep, aged men . ween ! rend your hair I 
 Let your wild plaints be on the breezes tost ! 
 
 Weep, virgins! matrons! till your loud despair 
 Outbraves her children's wail for Ilion lost ! 
 
 XL 
 
 la tliat wreck'd barque the Ship of Christ behold! 
 
 Li its lost chief the Cardinal divine, 
 Of princely Lombard race;* whose worth untold 
 
 Eclipsed the lofty honours of his line. 
 
 XIL 
 His suffering countrymen to rule, sustain, 
 
 By the All-wise was Borromeo given ; 
 And he, who stoop'd not dignity to gain,f 
 
 Derived his high investiture from heaven. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 Bright as tlie sun o'er all pre-eminent. 
 
 Or Cynthia glittering from her star-girt throne, 
 
 The saintly Charles, on truths sublime intent, 
 Amid the purple hierarclij' shone. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Christian fleet, devoid of helm and sail,j 
 He mann'd and led ■where roughest billows roll ; 
 
 And, though no more, his virtues wide prevail, 
 Their sacred influence spreads from i)olc to pole. 
 
 XV. 
 His, was the providence that all foresees. 
 
 His, tiie trust placed, unchangeably, above 
 His, strict observance of his sires' decrees, 
 
 Rapt adoration, and fear-chasten'd love. 
 
 XVI. 
 Tlie fiiith in practice, not profession, sliown. 
 
 Which borrows all its glory from on high 
 Was his : — nor did his holiness, alone. 
 
 Consist in outward forms of sanctity. 
 
 * Saint Carlo Borromeo was born at Arona, near the Lago Alaggiore, the love- 
 liest of Italian lakes, on the 2nd of October, 1538. His family was, and still con- 
 tinues to be, the most illustrious in Lombardy. It derives, however, its proudest 
 distinction from its connexion with the virtuous cardinal and his exalted nephew 
 Frederigo, whose sublime character has been of late so exquisitely portrayed by 
 ^Manzoni. If ever man deserved canonisation, it was the subject of this elegy, 
 wliose Avhole life was spent in practice* of piety ; and whose zeal, munificence, 
 Avisdom, toleration, and beneficence, have conferred lasting benefits on his creed 
 and country. 
 
 t He was made Cardinal and Archbishop in his twenty-third year by his uncle, 
 Pius VI., who had resigned several rich livings to him twelve years before. 
 — Eustace. Classical Tour through Italy, 
 
 X Borromeo found the diocese of Milan in the most deplorable state of disorder. 
 But with a vigorous and unsparing hand he reformed all ecclesiastical abuses — 
 *' C'est ainsi," observes M. Tabauraud, the writer of his life in the Eiog. Uni- 
 verselle, "que I'Eglise de Milan, tombe'e dans uneespcce d'anarchie depuis quartre- 
 vingts ans que ses archeveques n'y residaient pas, re9ut en peu d'annees cette 
 forme admirable qui, par la vie toute angelique de son clerge, la rendit le modele 
 de toutes les autres Eglises. Tant de reformes ne purent se faire sans de 
 grands obstacles, qu'il surmonta par sa fermete, sa patience et son imper- 
 turbable charitd" 
 
Arri:xDix. J4/ 
 
 XVII. 
 A willing ear unto the nobly-born, 
 
 Nobler himself, he ne'er refused to yield; 
 Nor, Jesus' meek disciple, did he scorn 
 
 The humble prayer that to liis heart appealed.* 
 
 XVIIT. 
 Can no remembrance dearer tlian his name 
 
 Bequeathed us, link his mcmor}' with the earth 
 Nor can ni}' praise add lustre to his fame — 
 
 Proud lieritage of unexampled worth !f 
 
 XIX. 
 
 When o'er his desolated city fell 
 
 Tiie livid plague's inexorable breath ; 
 Oft, in the lazzarctto's tainted cell, 
 
 Fervent, he prayed beside the couch of death. J 
 
 XX. 
 
 As through tlie fane the pale procession swept.ll 
 
 Before its shine he bent in lowliest wise ; 
 Imploring heaven, in mercy, to accept 
 
 His life, for them, a willing sacrifice. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 "Wlien from the assassin's arm the bullet sped, 
 He blench'd not, nor his deep devotions stopt ; 
 
 '^ Be not dismaijd in lienrt !'' — the anthem said. 
 He rose — the bullet from his vestment dropt I§ 
 
 * So unbounded was Borromeo's charity, that he sold his principality of Oria, 
 and distributed the proceeds amongst the poor. 
 
 f The private virtues of Saint Charles, that is, the qualities which give true 
 sterling value to tjie man, and sanctify him to tJie eyes of his Creator — I mean 
 humility, self-command, temperance, industry, prudence, and fortitude — were not 
 inferior to his public endowments. His table was for his guests; his own diet was 
 confined to bread and vegetables ; ho allowed himself no amusement or relaxation, 
 alleging tliat the variety of his duties was in itself a sutlicient recreation. His 
 dress and establishment were such as became his rank, but in private he dispensed 
 with the attendance of servants, and wore an under dress, coarse and common ; 
 his bed was of straw; his repose short; and in all tlie details of life he manifested 
 an utter contempt of personal ease and indulgence. — Elstack. 
 
 % During a destructive pestilence he erected a lazzaretto, and served the for- 
 saken victims with his own hands. — Eustace. 
 
 II The incidents described in this and the following stanza do not occur in the 
 original. As, however, they appear necessary to complete the picture of the holy 
 Primate's career presented by the poem, I have ventured upon this introduction. 
 These actions, as well as his heroic devotion to the plague- stricken in the lazza- 
 retto, mentioned in the preceding verse, form subjects for part of the eight 
 magnificent silver bas-reliefs which adorn the vaulted roof of the gorgeous 
 subterranean chapel in the Duomo at Milan, wliere the body of the Saint reposes 
 enshrined amid " barbaric pearl and gold." During the period of the plague, 
 Borromeo was indefatigable in his exertions to arrest the terrible calamitj'. 
 *' Cherchant," says M. Tabauraud, "a de'sarmer la colere du ciel par des proces- 
 sions ge'nerales, auxquelles ilassistait nu-pieds, la cordeau c.ou, les yeux fixes sur 
 son crucifix, qu'il arrosait de ses larmcs, en soffrant a Dteu comme une victime de 
 propitiation pour Jcs pcclics de son pciip/ej" 
 
 § The ecclesiastical reformation effected by Sa'.nt Charles met, as was natural, 
 with considerable opposition on the part of the corrupt and disorderly priesthood, 
 and he became the object of their bitterest animositv. " Les plus opposes a la 
 ri^forme," writes M. Tabauraud; "susciterent un frere /•'t/r/wcr, qui se posta a 
 I'entrce de la chapelle archie'piscopale, oii le Saint Prc'lat faisait sa priere avec 
 toute sa maison • ct, au moment oii Ton chantait cette antienne : Non turbetur cor 
 
348 APPKNDIX. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Not in the prism more varied hues reside, 
 
 Than bright examples in his course are traced ;— 
 
 Alas ! his longer sojourn here denied, 
 
 His guiding star is from its sphere efiaced. 
 
 XXIII. 
 Alas ! life's ebbing tide no hindrance knows! 
 
 With man is notliing certain but to die ! 
 Mortality, alone, presents a close 
 
 Immutable, 'mid mutability. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As, in some stream remote, tlie swan expires. 
 Breathing, unheard, her fate-foreboding strain, 
 
 So the declining Cardinal retires 
 To steep Varalla's solitary fane.* 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Like the fair flower that springs from winter's crust, 
 Lombards ! your Primate bursts his earthly chains ; 
 
 And, in his Father's mansion with the Just, 
 A portion and inheritance obtains.f 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Within his chosen tomb calm may he sleep !f 
 
 Beatified, aloft, his spirit soars! 
 While Virtue's loss irreparable, deep, 
 
 With reverential grief the Muse deplores. 
 
 The authenticity of tliis poem cannot for an instant be disputed. It 
 bears the strongest internal evidence of emanating from the same mind 
 
 vestrum neque form'ulet, I'assassin, eloigne seulement de cinq ou six pas, tire un 
 coup d'arquebuse sur Saint Charles, a genoux devant I'autel. A oe bruit, le 
 chant cesse, la cousternatiiwi est ge'ne'rale ; le Saint, sans s'emouvoir, fait signe de 
 continuer la priere : il se croyait cependant blesse' mortellement, et offrait a Dieu 
 le sacrifice de sa vie. La priere finie, il se releve, et voit tomber a ses pieds la balle 
 qu'on lui avail tiree dans le dos, et qui n'avait fait qu'ejfleurer son rochet.'* — BiOG. 
 Universelle. The holy primate endeavoured, inetfectually, to preserve Farina 
 and the instigators of his crime from the punishment they merited. They were 
 put to death, and Pius VI. dissolved the order ( Gli Umili) to which they belonged. 
 
 * The Monastery of Monte Varalla is situated in the Piedmontese states, near 
 the banks of the Sesia. Thither Saint Charles retired immediately previous to 
 his dissolution, attended only by his confessor, the Jesuit Adorno, — and returned 
 thente to Milan in a dying state. ''Franciscum Adornura Societatis Jesuplurimi 
 fecit qui cum in extremo vitae curriculo per dies plurimos, quo tempore in Monte 
 Varallo meditationibus se totum tradiderat Cauolcs ab ejus latere nunquam 
 discesserit." — Caroli Cardin. Borromai Vita — Valeria. Antoine Godeau, Bishop 
 of Grasse, who has written the life of the illustrious Primate, gives the following 
 particulars of his melancholy visit to the Monastery : — " Encore que toute la vie 
 de Saint Charles fust une retraite mentale, toutefois il avait accoutume d'en 
 faire une locale tous les ans en quelque monastere ecarte', oii il employ oit quel- 
 ques jours pour faire une revue severe de sa vie, et pour prendre un nouvel esprit 
 e zele et de piete'. Avant que de s'en retourner a Milan, il voulut passer au 
 Mont Varalle, dont nous avons parle', et y faire ses exercices." — Vie de S. Ch 
 Borromee. Liv. IL Ch. dernier. M. Meli.in, in his Voyage dans le Milanais, de- 
 scribing the mountain oratory of Varese, observes : — " Un va de la a Varalle, o\x 
 les Histoires de I'Ancien et du Nouveau-Testament sont figure'es dans cinquante- 
 deux chapelles," 
 
 t The earthly pilgrimage of Saint Charles terminated on the 4th of November, 
 1584, at the age of forty-six years. He was canonized by Paul V. in 1610. 
 
 X " Cupiens hoc loco sibi monumeDtum vivens elegit." — Epitaph inscribed upon 
 Borromeo's tomb by his own desire. 
 
APPENDIX. 349 
 
 that conceived the Appulsus ad Venetam ; and the vexata qucBstio so 
 long agitated, as to Crichton's having survived the perilous Nones of 
 J'uly may be now considered finally settled. As an extemporaneous 
 effusion (and its author twice intimates that it is to be so esteemed), it 
 must be allowed to be a remarkable production. Its versification is 
 singularly fluent and harmonious; and it breathes a spirit of tender 
 melancholy perfectly in unison with the subject. It was dashed off at 
 a heat, at the request of a friend, with its writer's cliaracteristic rapidity; 
 and, if we should fail to discover passages of such transcendent beauty 
 as might be expected from a genius of an order so high as that of 
 Crichton, we must bear in mind the disadvantageous circumstances 
 under which, in all probability, it was composed. The grief of the 
 youthful Scot was I am persuaded, no poetic fiction. Be tliis as it 
 may, his reputation will suffer no diminution from the connexion of this 
 " Epicedion" with his name. 
 
 Famigeras iterum Critonius exit in auras 
 Et volat ingenio rlocta per era virum. 
 
 Not only, however, was Crichton alive in November, 1584 — not only 
 on the death of the divine Borromeo did he pour forth his elegiac 
 strains ; but in the succeeding month we have further proof of his ex- 
 istence and imabated poetical powers in the following congratulatory 
 address, with which he celebrated the induction of Caspar Visconti to 
 the archiepiscopal see of Milan. 
 
 JaCOBI CrITONII ScOTI ad AMPLISSIMUM AC KEVERENDISSIMDM VIRUM GaB- 
 PAREM ViCECOMITEM* SUMMA OMNIUM ORDINUM VoLUNTATE, AD PRiECLAHAM 
 ArCHIEPISCOPATUS ilEDIOLANEN. AdMINISTRATIONEM, DELECTUM. 
 
 GRATULATIO.f 
 
 Primus in Exequiis ferali carmine Scotus 
 
 Pastoris dolui funera moesta pii. 
 Funera moesta pii Borom.ei Prfesulis all ah, 
 
 Deplanxit tristi nostra Thalia stylo. 
 Aspice post iiimbos, nitiduni quam sspe reducat 
 
 Vectus Lucifero Cynthius axe, diem. 
 Nanique sale pridem Navis spoliata Magistro, 
 
 More poetarum, fluctibus obruitur. 
 SjBvit hyenis, venti ingeminant striduntque rudentes, 
 
 SoUicitoque tremunt corda pavore virum. 
 Nee spes ulla fuit melior, quin deficit omnis 
 
 Naucleri posito, turba, magistcrio. 
 Ncc quicquam nisi vota facit divosque deasque 
 
 Orat, ut afflictis rebus adesse veliut. 
 Tanta sed aeterni fuerit dementia Patris 
 
 Ut non humanas deseruisset opes. 
 Sic pelagi tandem compescuit -lEoIus sstus, 
 
 Atque reluctantes traxit in antra Notes. 
 
 * Gaspar Visconti, a prelate eminent for learning and piety (though thrown 
 nuo the shade by the superior sanctity of his immediate precursor ami successor, 
 Saint Charles, and Frederick Borromeo) was appointed to the archbishopric of 
 Milan, on the 29th of November, and consecrated during the ides of December, 
 15S4 ( Vide Saxii Series Archiepic. Mil. Tom. III.), the period when Crichton's con- 
 gratulatory poem was published. A translation of the address will be found in 
 the ensuing page. 
 
 t Mediolani. Ex. Typographia Pact/ici Pontii, M.DLXXXIII. 
 
350 APPENDIX. 
 
 Et caput exeruit formosior sequore Titan, 
 
 lUuxit votis mille petita dies. 
 Ecce velut fulgur media quod nocte coruscat, 
 
 Alter adest prsstans navita puppis, lo. 
 Cujus opes magnas, virtus et gloria V.ngh 
 Exuperant, hujus uon levis urbis nonor. 
 Kostra Kotae,* Konia^ recta ratione rotabat, 
 
 Ilimantique ratem relligione reget. 
 Colloquio pra?sens prajsentem denique novi, 
 
 Sensibus injecit qui pia viiicla meis. 
 Prajsule tcr I'elix o nunc Insubria tali, 
 
 Inclyta cui vii-tus cernitur esse parens. 
 Quern propriis ultro tendentem laudibus, omnes 
 
 Hoc norunt sacrum promeruisse jubar. 
 Currite jam cives, dignis ornate lapillis, 
 
 Nobile, facunduni, cotispicuuraque caput. 
 Exoptatus ades patrim rectorque paterque 
 Gaspar prtesignis nomine reque Conies. 
 Quid potuit mojstffi contingere la?tius Urbi? 
 
 Qui suavi pasces pectora nostra cibo. 
 Participes hujus concurruut undique gentes 
 
 Laetitiffi, et cura est omnibus una tui, 
 Depouunt luctus, et te succedere gaudent, 
 
 Kam cui succedis non latet orbe viros. 
 Ilium Sarmaticus Boreas, et Caucasus asper 
 
 Protulerit, Charites qui neget ore tuas. 
 Magnauimum sydus, tu gloi'ia splendor avorum, 
 
 Tu generis columen, jjortus et aura tui. 
 Integritas morum, pietas, facundia, virtus, 
 
 Musa, tibi probitas, dexteritasque placent. 
 Eelligioue.Numam, antiquum gravitate Catonem, 
 
 Augustum illustrem nobilitate refers. 
 Hinc te Geegorius, summi qui Numinis instar, 
 
 Clavigera, reserat regna beata, manu. 
 Eximio magnus donavit munere Pastor, 
 Ut tegat emeritas sacra Tiara comas. 
 Auguriis sibi quisque aninium felicibus implet, 
 
 Exoptat longos, et tibi quisque dies. 
 ClUTONius Scotis Arctoffi in finibus orce 
 
 Progenitus, Caspar, gratulor ecce tibi, 
 Sis felix, carmenque nieum lege fronte serena, 
 Gaudebit, Proesul, Musa favore tuo. 
 
 CID 10 XXCIV. V. Idus Decembris. 
 
 ^0 Caspar Fisconti. 
 I. 
 
 When her fair land with grief o'erspread, 
 Insubria mourn'd her Primate dead; 
 When Borromeo to the tomb 
 Was borne 'mid all-pervading gloom; 
 When dimm'd with tears was every eye, 
 When breathed one universal sigh 
 The sorrowing lyre for him who slept, 
 I first — a Scottish minstrel — swept. 
 
 ♦ The well-known Papal court called the Bota. Gaspar Visconti was one of 
 
 the twelve judges, as Ave learn from Sa.rius, who says that he proceeded to Eome 
 
 — lit una cum auditoribus quos vocant Rot-e Eoman^ in eo insigni sapientum coUeyio 
 
 consideret. Tlie reader will admire the singular alliterative splendour of this 
 
 ' 'vjlet. 
 
APrENiax. 351 
 
 n. 
 
 The night is pass'd, and dawn awakes, 
 Bright Cynthius througli the vapour breaks 
 And Lucifer, with cheering beams, 
 From out his golden axle gleams. 
 Where late upon the raging sea 
 The wild winds rush'd tuniultuously; 
 And the frail barque by surges tost, 
 Her tempest-braving helmsman lost. 
 Her timbers strain'd, her canvas riven, 
 Wide o'er the weltering waste was driven; 
 While her pale crew, with fear aghast, 
 Gazed (as they deem'd) on heaven their last! 
 With shrieks their hapless late bewailing! 
 With prayers the threatening skies assailing! — 
 
 A change is wrought ! — hushed are the gams 
 
 A soft and summer calm prevails; 
 And the glad ship, in safety', glides 
 Over the gently-rolling tides. 
 In troops o'er the ocean's broad expanse, 
 Day's rosy harbingers advance; 
 Bland Eolus careers the wave, 
 Fierce Notus hurries to his cave; 
 Toung Titan from the waters springs, 
 With new-born lustre on his wings; 
 And over all things shines that sun, 
 Whose light a thousand vows have won. 
 
 III. 
 
 lo! with shouts the deck resound! 
 
 lo! another chief is found! 
 
 Another leader hath been sent 
 
 To rule the Christian armament; 
 
 Whose firnmess and undaunted zeal 
 
 Ensure uuinterniptcd weal: 
 
 ^Miose voice the lioman Rot.l sway'd, 
 
 ^^^lose laws that synod sage obey'd: 
 
 Whose hand will guide with equal ease, 
 
 Religion's barque through stormy seas: 
 
 Whose power in exhortation shown, 
 
 Whose wisdom I myself have known; 
 
 When by his eloquence subdued, 
 
 In admiration lost, I stood. 
 
 Eejoice, thrice-happy Lombardy! 
 
 That such a chief is given to thee! 
 
 A cliief so free from aught of sin, 
 
 Virtue might be his origin: 
 
 Whose heavenly purpose, onward-tending, 
 
 Wliose resolution — calm, unbending. 
 
 Shall lead thee through the shades of night 
 
 To realms of everlasting light. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Haste, ^Milanese! your Primate greet! 
 Prelates ! your leader fly to meet ! 
 Run, maidens! youths! let each one bring 
 Some gift, some worthy ofltring! 
 Surrounding nations hail your choice. 
 Surrounding nations loud rejoice! 
 Like him, whom ye have lost, was none 
 Sare him your choice has fall'n upon ! 
 
352 APPENDIX. 
 
 V. 
 
 A father fond, a ruler wise 
 
 Gaspar, in thee, we recognise : 
 
 Thy name, Visconti, seems to be ^ . 
 
 An earnest of prosperity. 
 
 To us thou art in our distress, 
 
 As manna in the wilderness. 
 
 Inhospitable Caucasus, 
 
 Sarmatian Boreas rigorous, 
 
 Seize on the caitiff, who denies 
 
 Thy all-acknowledg'd charities. 
 
 A glory art thou, and a star, 
 
 A light, a pharos seen afar! 
 
 And, clothed with majesty divine, 
 
 Shalt prove the pillar of thy line. 
 
 High rectitude and prescience 
 
 Are thine, and wide beneficence; 
 
 A Numa in thy sanctity, 
 
 A Cato in thy gravity, 
 
 Augustus in nobility. 
 
 Hence the High Pontiff Gregory,* 
 
 Who holds of Paradise the key, 
 
 For thee earth's chains hath cast aside, 
 
 For thee heaven's gate hath opened wide; 
 
 Milan's white robe hath round thee spread. 
 
 Her mitre placed upon thy head. 
 
 VI. 
 
 In thy blest advent all men see 
 
 Of peace a certain augury ; 
 
 All tongues are clamorous in thy praise, 
 
 All prayers are f >r thy length of days. 
 
 Amid the crowd, I, Crichton, born 
 
 On Caledonian shores forlorn. 
 
 Not all unknown, congratulate 
 
 Thee, Caspar, on thine honour'd state. 
 
 Perpetual happiness be thine! 
 
 Thy bright, approving smile be mine! 
 
 Nor let thy taste, severe, disdain, 
 
 Primate, this welcome-breathing strain. 
 
 Uunoticed by, and evidently unl<nown to all his former biographers, 
 tliis congratulatory poem closes the intellectual career of the Admirable 
 Crichton.f All beyond is wrapped in obscurity. 
 
 To the consideration of the present and the preceding performance 
 should be brought a knowledge of Crichton's strong devotion to the 
 Church of Rome ; to that ancient faith — shorn of its glory in his own 
 land, for which, after encountering those unhappy differences adverted 
 to by Aldus {prcelia domestica contra te suscitata qucE cum patre 
 gessisii), and rejecting the brilliant oifers held out to him by the leaders 
 of the popular faith, whose cause and opinions his family had em- 
 
 * Gregory XIII., the Pope by whom Gaspar Visconti was appointed to the 
 Archiepiscopal see of Milan. 
 
 f Any further information respecting Crichton will probably be derived from 
 the voluminous manuscript letters of San Carlo Borromeo, preserved in the Am- 
 brosian Library at Milan;— from the letters of Sperone Speroni, in the edition of 
 Forcellini, which have not come under my observation ; or from some contem- 
 porary memoir or correspondence published at Mantua. 
 
APPENDIX. 353 
 
 braced, he had so long absented himself from his country, his 
 friends, his home.* 
 
 Attached to the Church of Rome, he was necessarily attached 
 to her priesthood. Milan, under the sway of the divine Bor- 
 romeo, became the model of ecclesiastical jurisdiction. To 
 Milan, Crichton repaired. His grief for the loss of the exalted 
 primate was deep and heartfelt; his rejoicing at the appoint- 
 ment of his successor, whose piety he himself, as he informs us, 
 had approved — 
 
 Whose power in exhortation shown, 
 Whose wisdom, I myself haye known, 
 When by his eloquence subdued, 
 In admiration lost, I stood — 
 
 was unfeigned : — and if the verses just quoted do nothing more, 
 they at least prove that the adherence to the faith of his an- 
 cestry, which sent him forth a wanderer from their heresy-girt 
 halls, was still unchanged. 
 
 Efforts have been made on the part of some recent writers to 
 shake the celebrity of the Admirable Scot, by assailing the few 
 poetical pieces which he has left us, and by measuring the grasp 
 of his intellect by this unfair standard. This is to judge of the 
 fire of Sappho by her twin odes ; of the comic humour of 
 Menander by his fragments. The prejudices of the learned 
 biographer of Tasso must indeed have been blinding, if he could 
 see no beauties in the " Appulsus" — no inspiration, no poetic 
 nerve, no classic taste and feeling in the odes to Massa and 
 Donatus. It is not, howevei-, from what remains to us of his 
 writings, but from the effect produced upon his contemporaries 
 (and such contemporaries), that we can form a just estimate of 
 the extent of Crichton's powers. By them he was esteemed a 
 miracle of learning — divinum plane juvenem : and we have an 
 instance in our own times of a great poet and philosopher, whose 
 published works scarcely bear out the high reputation he enjoyed 
 for colloquial ability. The idolised friend of Aldus Manutius, 
 of Lorenzo Massa, Giovanni Donati, and Sperone Speroni, 
 amongst the most accomplished scholars of their age ; the an- 
 tagonist of the redoubted Arcangelus jNlercenarius and Giacomo 
 Mazzoni — (whose memory was so remarkable that he could re- 
 cite entire books of Daiite, Ariosto, Virgil, and Lucretius, and 
 who had sounded all the depths of philosophy) — could not have 
 
 * Quod scilicet regno, patria, domoque, ob Catholicae fidei ardorem, tanj 
 louffue abes. — Mdi Dedicatio in Parodoxa Ciceronis. 
 
 2 A 
 
354 APPENDIX. 
 
 been other than an extraordinary person ; and we may come to 
 the conclusion respecting him, arrived at by Dr. Jolmson, that 
 " whatever we may suppress as surpassing credibility, yet we 
 shall, upon incoiitestible authority, relate enough to rank him 
 among prodigies." 
 
 THE K.VD.