“And yet it is to the duchess you owe your bâton. You are ungrateful, monsieur le maréchal.”
These words were not uttered by Bonnivet, but by a singular personage, who had approached them unawares, and listened to their discourse. On turning, Montmorency beheld Triboulet, the king's jester. The court buffoon wore the parti-coloured garb proper to his office, and carried a bauble in his hand. Misshapen in person, he had high shoulders, long arms, large feet and hands, and an immense head. His brow was low, his eyes lighted up by a malicious flame, and his countenance altogether had a cunning and mischievous expression, which inspired fear while it excited mirth.
Immediately behind Triboulet stood a tall, thin man, whose appearance offered a striking contrast to that of the jester. This personage wore a black taffeta robe with loose sleeves, and a silken skull-cap of the same hue, which set off his sallow features. His eyes were thoughtful in expression, and a long grey beard, descending to his girdle, added materially to the gravity of his aspect. This individual was the renowned Cornelius Agrippa, who after many years of travel and strange adventure in Germany, Switzerland, the Low Countries, and England, now formed part of the royal household of France, and occupied the post of physician and astrologer to the Duchess d'Angoulême, who had great faith in his medical and mystic lore. Though the courtiers affected to deride Agrippa's predictions, and sometimes charged him with dealing in the black art, they nevertheless stood in great awe of him.
“Why dost charge me with ingratitude, thou ribald knave?” said Montmorency to the jester.
“Because you turn upon your benefactress,” replied Triboulet.
“Bah! I have got no more than my due,” said Montmorency. “Thou shouldst talk of my ingratitude to the duchess—à propos of the Constable de Bourbon.”
“Her highness has no reason to be grateful to the Constable,” said Triboulet, with a strange grin.
“But the king has,” rejoined Montmorency. “Without him, Marignan would scarce have been won. I would rather lose my marshal's bâton than Bourbon should be deprived of his possessions.”
“The king shall hear of this,” muttered Bonnivet. “Did the stars tell you that Bourbon would come here to-day, learned sir?” he added to Cornelius Agrippa.
“I expected him,” replied the philosopher.