There was an angry spot on Louis’s brow, and as Anne of Austria entered, he continued playing with the hilt of his sword, without once raising his eyes towards her. The Queen’s heart sank, but still she bore an undismayed countenance, while the Cardinal fixed upon her the full glance of his dark commanding eyes, and rising from his seat, slightly inclined his head at her approach.
The rest of the Council rose, and Chavigni turned away his eyes, with an ill-defined sensation of pain and regret; but the more subtle Mazarin, ever watchful to court good opinion, whether for present, or for future purposes, glided quietly round, and placed a chair for her at the table. It was an action not forgotten in after days.
A moment’s pause ensued. As soon as the Queen was seated, Richelieu glanced his eye towards the countenance of the King, as if to instigate him to open the business of the day: but Louis’s attention was deeply engaged in his sword-knot, or at least seemed to be so, and the Cardinal was at length forced to proceed himself.
“Your Majesty’s presence has been desired by the King, who is like a God in justice and in equity,” said Richelieu, proceeding in that bold and figurative style, in which all his public addresses were conceived, “in order to enable you to cast off, like a raiment that has been soiled by a foul touch, the accusations which have been secretly made against you, and to explain some part of your conduct, which, as clouds between the earth and the sun, have come between yourself and your royal husband, intercepting the beams of his princely approbation. All this your Majesty can doubtless do, and the King has permitted the Council to hear your exculpation from your own lips, that we may trample under our feet the foul suspicions that appear against you.”
“Lord Cardinal,” replied the Queen, calmly, but firmly, “I wonder at the boldness of your language. Remember, Sir, whom it is that you thus presume to address—The wife of your Sovereign, Sir, who sits there, bound to protect her from insult and from injury.”
“Cease, cease, Madam!” cried Louis, breaking silence. “First prove yourself innocent, and then use the high tone of innocence, if you will.”
“To you, my Lord,” replied the Queen, “I am ready to answer every thing, truly and faithfully, as a good wife, and a good subject; but not to that audacious vassal, who, in oppressing and insulting me, but degrades your authority and weakens your power.”
“Spare your invectives, Madam,” said the Cardinal calmly, “for, if I be not much mistaken, before you leave this chamber you will be obliged to acknowledge all that is contained in the paper before me; in which case, the bad opinion of your Majesty would be as the roar of idle wind, that hurteth not the mariner on shore.”
“My Lord and Sovereign,” said the Queen, addressing Louis, without deigning to notice the Cardinal, “it seems that some evil is laid to my charge; will you condescend to inform me of what crime I am accused, that now calls your Majesty’s anger upon me?—If loving you too well,—if lamenting your frequent absence from me,—if giving my whole time and care to your children, be no crimes, tell me, my Lord, tell me, what I have done.”
“What you have done, Madam, is easily told,” exclaimed Louis, his eyes flashing fire. “Give me that paper, Lord Cardinal;” and passing hastily from article to article of its contents, he continued: “Have you not, contrary to my express command, and the command of the Council, corresponded with Philip of Spain? Have you not played the spy upon the plans of my Government, and caused the defeat of my armies in Flanders, the losses of the Protestants in Germany, the failure of all our schemes in Italy, by the information you have conveyed? Have you not written to Don Francisco de Mello, and your cousin the Archduke? Have you not——”