第124章 MEDITATIONS AT VERSAILLES(4)
what blockheads have we been to worship any but you.--THAT a goddess?--a pretty goddess forsooth;--a witch, rather, who, for a while, kept our gracious monarch blind! Look at her: the woman limps as she walks; and, by sacred Venus, her mouth stretches almost to her diamond ear-rings?" The same tale may be told of many more deserted mistresses; and fair Athenais de Montespan was to hear it of herself one day.Meantime, while La Valliere's heart is breaking, the model of a finished hero is yawning; as, on such paltry occasions, a finished hero should.LET her heart break: a plague upon her tears and repentance; what right has she to repent?
Away with her to her convent.She goes, and the finished hero never sheds a tear.What a noble pitch of stoicism to have reached! Our Louis was so great, that the little woes of mean people were beyond him: his friends died, his mistresses left him; his children, one by one, were cut off before his eyes, and great Louis is not moved in the slightest degree! As how, indeed, should a god be moved?
A pair of diamond ear-rings, given by the King to La Valliere, caused much scandal; and some lampoons are extant, which impugn the taste of Louis XIV.for loving a lady with such an enormous mouth.
I have often liked to think about this strange character in the world, who moved in it, bearing about a full belief in his own infallibility; teaching his generals the art of war, his ministers the science of government, his wits taste, his courtiers dress;ordering deserts to become gardens, turning villages into palaces at a breath; and indeed the august figure of the man, as he towers upon his throne, cannot fail to inspire one with respect and awe:--how grand those flowing locks appear; how awful that sceptre; how magnificent those flowing robes! In Louis, surely, if in any one, the majesty of kinghood is represented.
But a king is not every inch a king, for all the poet may say; and it is curious to see how much precise majesty there is in that majestic figure of Ludovicus Rex.In the Frontispiece, we have endeavored to make the exact calculation.The idea of kingly dignity is equally strong in the two outer figures; and you see, at once, that majesty is made out of the wig, the high-heeled shoes, and cloak, all fleurs-de-lis bespangled.As for the little lean, shrivelled, paunchy old man, of five feet two, in a jacket and breeches, there is no majesty in HIM at any rate; and yet he has just stepped out of that very suit of clothes.Put the wig and shoes on him, and he is six feet high;--the other fripperies, and he stands before you majestic, imperial, and heroic! Thus do barbers and cobblers make the gods that we worship: for do we not all worship him? Yes; though we all know him to be stupid, heartless, short, of doubtful personal courage, worship and admire him we must; and have set up, in our hearts, a grand image of him, endowed with wit, magnanimity, valor, and enormous heroical stature.
And what magnanimous acts are attributed to him! or, rather, how differently do we view the actions of heroes and common men, and find that the same thing shall be a wonderful virtue in the former, which, in the latter, is only an ordinary act of duty.Look at yonder window of the king's chamber;--one morning a royal cane was seen whirling out of it, and plumped among the courtiers and guard of honor below.King Louis had absolutely, and with his own hand, flung his own cane out of the window, "because," said he, "I won't demean myself by striking a gentleman!" O miracle of magnanimity!
Lauzun was not caned, because he besought majesty to keep his promise,--only imprisoned for ten years in Pignerol, along with banished Fouquet;--and a pretty story is Fouquet's too.
Out of the window the king's august head was one day thrust, when old Conde was painfully toiling up the steps of the court below.
"Don't hurry yourself, my cousin," cries magnanimity, "one who has to carry so many laurels cannot walk fast." At which all the courtiers, lackeys, mistresses, chamberlains, Jesuits, and scullions, clasp their hands and burst into tears.Men are affected by the tale to this very day.For a century and three-quarters, have not all the books that speak of Versailles, or Louis Quatorze, told the story?--"Don't hurry yourself, my cousin!" Oadmirable king and Christian! what a pitch of condescension is here, that the greatest king of all the world should go for to say anything so kind, and really tell a tottering old gentleman, worn out with gout, age, and wounds, not to walk too fast!
What a proper fund of slavishness is there in the composition of mankind, that histories like these should be found to interest and awe them.Till the world's end, most likely, this story will have its place in the history-books; and unborn generations will read it, and tenderly be moved by it.I am sure that Magnanimity went to bed that night, pleased and happy, intimately convinced that he had done an action of sublime virtue, and had easy slumbers and sweet dreams,--especially if he had taken a light supper, and not too vehemently attacked his en cas de nuit.
That famous adventure, in which the en cas de nuit was brought into use, for the sake of one Poquelin alias Moliere;--how often has it been described and admired? This Poquelin, though king's valet-de-chambre, was by profession a vagrant; and as such, looked coldly on by the great lords of the palace, who refused to eat with him.
Majesty hearing of this, ordered his en cas de nuit to be placed on the table, and positively cut off a wing with his own knife and fork for Poquelin's use.O thrice happy Jean Baptiste! The king has actually sat down with him cheek by jowl, had the liver-wing of a fowl, and given Moliere the gizzard; put his imperial legs under the same mahogany (sub iisdem trabibus).A man, after such an honor, can look for little else in this world: he has tasted the utmost conceivable earthly happiness, and has nothing to do now but to fold his arms, look up to heaven, and sing "Nunc dimittis" and die.