"Indeed!" said the king, with a slight smile. "What do you mean, fair lady? Is his ambition dangerous to the state?"
"Nay, nay, sire, not so," replied the duchess, with a smile, seeing that the king, while affecting ignorance, in reality understood what she meant. "There is a certain lovely lady bearing the same name as my more humble self, and somewhat near to the affections of your royal person—near, even as a daughter, some men say. She has now wept for some time in widowhood; and the young Duke of Montmorency, daringly priding himself upon the royal blood that flows also in his veins, has ventured to sigh for this fair lady's hand. But the great impediment is that fatal contract which he signed with Mademoiselle de Pienne, without his father's knowledge and consent."
"I have heard something of this before," said the king, to whom the idea of uniting his natural daughter to the high race of Montmorency was not a little grateful. "But does the constable desire this marriage for his son? If so, why did he not speak long since?"
"Most humbly, sire, does he desire it," replied the lady, "and has commissioned me to sue, by every means of persuasion and entreaty, that your majesty would condescend to grant your consent to the union of his son with Madame de Farnese. He overrates my means, I know; but he does calculate that your majesty has some affection still for me, as well as some regard and esteem for him."
"Much, much for both, dear lady," replied the king; and then, falling into a fit of thought, he added, as if speaking to himself, "This marriage is most unfortunate. But that a rash boy should pay, by a whole life of celibacy and regret, for the idle folly of signing his name to a promise extracted from him by an artful woman, is indeed too much. I would fain see the draught of the edict which was proposed."
"Here is the chancellor, sire, hard by," replied the lady, pointing to a group of three or four persons who had followed her into the hall at her first entrance, but who had remained gathered together in a group at the other end of the chamber, conversing in a low voice. "Here is the chancellor, sire: perhaps he may have a copy of the edict with him now."
"Perchance he may, fair dame," replied the king, laying his hand fondly upon her shoulder, and smiling, at the same time, at the evident preparation of the whole affair, "perchance he may. Ho! my good chancellor, we would fain speak with you here a while."
At the very first word the king addressed to him, a tall and somewhat meager man, in the rich and gorgeous habit of one of the princes of the Roman Church, took a step forward from the rest of the group, and, bowing low, advanced towards the king. He was dark and pale in countenance, and his features were of an Italian cast, while a look of shrewd, calm cunning, which that cast is so well calculated to assume, was the predominant expression.
"His majesty, my Lord Cardinal," said the duchess, addressing the famous John Bertrandi, and having marked well the shrewd smile upon the king's countenance, "his majesty, my Lord Cardinal, would fain see a copy of that edict referring to clandestine marriages, which was drawn up some months ago, but never signed. I besought you this morning to seek for it: has it been found?"
"I have it here, madam," replied the chancellor at once, opening a portfolio which he carried under his arm; "may I present it to your majesty:" and, selecting from among a number of papers which the portfolio contained the one that was required at the moment, he put it into the hands of Henry the Second.