第61章 THE TUMULT AT AMBOISE(4)
And show us the light of his countenance, And be merciful unto us."The eyes of all the Reformers turned to their leader, the Prince de Conde, who was placed intentionally between Queen Mary and the young Duc d'Orleans. Catherine de' Medici was beside the king, and the rest of the court were on her left. The papal nuncio stood behind Queen Mary; the lieutenant-general of the kingdom, the Duc de Guise, was on horseback below the balcony, with two of the marshals of France and his staff captains. When the Prince de Conde appeared all the condemned noblemen who knew him bowed to him, and the brave hunchback returned their salutation.
"It would be hard," he remarked to the Duc d'Orleans, "not to be civil to those about to die."The two other balconies were filled by invited guests, courtiers, and persons on duty about the court. In short, the whole company of the chateau de Blois had come to Amboise to assist at this festival of death, precisely as it passed, a little later, from the pleasures of a court to the perils of war, with an easy facility, which will always seem to foreigners one of the main supports of their policy toward France.
The poor syndic of the furriers of Paris was filled with the keenest joy at not seeing his son among the fifty-seven gentlemen who were condemned to die.
At a sign from the Duc de Guise, the clerk seated on the scaffold cried in a loud voice:--"Jean-Louis-Alberic, Baron de Raunay, guilty of heresy, of the crime of /lese-majeste/, and assault with armed hand against the person of the king."A tall handsome man mounted the scaffold with a firm step, bowed to the people and the court, and said:
"That sentence lies. I took arms to deliver the king from his enemies, the Guises."He placed his head on the block, and it fell. The Reformers chanted:--"Thou, O God! hast proved us;
Thou hast tried us;
As silver is tried in the fire, So hast thou purified us.""Robert-Jean-Rene Briquemart, Comte de Villemongis, guilty of the crime of /lese-majeste/, and of attempts against the person of the king!" called the clerk.
The count dipped his hands in the blood of the Baron de Raunay, and said:--"May this blood recoil upon those who are really guilty of those crimes."The Reformers chanted:--
"Thou broughtest us into the snare;
Thou laidest afflictions upon our loins;
Thou hast suffered our enemies To ride over us.""You must admit, monseigneur," said the Prince de Conde to the papal nuncio, "that if these French gentlemen know how to conspire, they also know how to die.""What hatreds, brother!" whispered the Duchesse de Guise to the Cardinal de Lorraine, "you are drawing down upon the heads of our children!""The sight makes me sick," said the young king, turning pale at the flow of blood.
"Pooh! only rebels!" replied Catherine de' Medici.
The chants went on; the axe still fell. The sublime spectacle of men singing as they died, and, above all, the impression produced upon the crowd by the progressive diminution of the chanting voices, superseded the fear inspired by the Guises.
"Mercy!" cried the people with one voice, when they heard the solitary chant of the last and most important of the great lords, who was saved to be the final victim. He alone remained at the foot of the steps by which the others had mounted the scaffold, and he chanted:--"Thou, O God, be merciful unto us, And bless us, And cause thy face to shine upon us.
Amen!"
"Come, Duc de Nemours," said the Prince de Conde, weary of the part he was playing; "you who have the credit of the skirmish, and who helped to make these men prisoners, do you not feel under an obligation to ask mercy for this one? It is Castelnau, who, they say, received your word of honor that he should be courteously treated if he surrendered.""Do you think I waited till he was here before trying to save him?"said the Duc de Nemours, stung by the stern reproach.