Thy time is not yet out -- the devil thou servest Has not as yet deserted thee. He aids The friends who drudge for him, as the blind man Was aided by the guide, who lent his shoulder O'er rough and smooth, until he reached the brink Of the fell precipice -- then hurl'd him downward.
OLD PLAY
When obeying the command, or rather the request of Louis -- for he was in circumstances in which, though a monarch, he could only request Le Glorieux to go in search of Martius Galeotti -- the jester had no trouble in executing his commission, betaking himself at once to the best tavern in Peronne, of which he himself was rather more than an occasional frequenter, being a great admirer of that species of liquor which reduced all other men's brains to a level with his own.
He found, or rather observed, the Astrologer in the corner of the public drinking room -- stove, as it is called in German and Flemish, from its principal furniture -- sitting in close colloquy with a female in a singular and something like a Moorish or Asiatic garb, who, as Le Glorieux approached Martius, rose as in the act to depart.
"These," said the stranger, "are news upon which you may rely with absolute certainty," and with that disappeared among the crowd of guests who sat grouped at different tables in the apartment.
"Cousin Philosopher," said the jester, presenting himself, "Heaven no sooner relieves one sentinel than it sends another to supply the place. One fool being gone, here I come another, to guide you to the apartments of Louis of France."
"And art thou the messenger?" said Martius, gazing on him with prompt apprehension, and discovering at once the jester's quality, though less intimated, as we have before noticed, than was usual, by his external appearance.
"Ay, sir, and like your learning," answered Le Glorieux. "When Power sends Folly to entreat the approach of Wisdom, 't is a sure sign what foot the patient halts upon."
"How if I refuse to come, when summoned at so late an hour by such a messenger?" said Galeotti.
"In that case, we will consult your ease, and carry you," said Le Glorieux. "Here are half a score of stout Burgundian yeomen at the door, with whom He of Crevecoeur has furnished me to that effect. For know that my friend Charles of Burgundy and I have not taken away our kinsman Louis's crown, which he was ass enough to put into our power, but have only filed and clipt it a little, and, though reduced to the size of a spangle, it is still pure gold. In plain terms, he is still paramount over his own people, yourself included, and Most Christian King of the old dining hall in the Castle of Peronne, to which you, as his liege subject, are presently obliged to repair."
"I attend you, sir," said Martius Galeotti, and accompanied Le Glorieux accordingly -- seeing, perhaps, that no evasion was possible.
"Ay, sir," said the Fool, as they went towards the Castle, "you do well; for we treat our kinsman as men use an old famished lion in his cage, and thrust him now and then a calf to mumble, to keep his old jaws in exercise."
"Do you mean," said Martius, "that the King intends me bodily injury?"
"Nay, that you can guess better than I," said the jester; "for though the night be cloudy, I warrant you can see the stars through the mist. I know nothing of the matter, not I -- only my mother always told me to go warily near an old rat in a trap, for he was never so much disposed to bite."
The Astrologer asked no more questions, and Le Glorieux, according to the custom of those of his class, continued to run on in a wild and disordered strain of sarcasm and folly mingled together, until he delivered the philosopher to the guard at the Castle gate of Peronne, where he was passed from warder to warder, and at length admitted within Herbert's Tower.
The hints of the jester had not been lost on Martius Galeotti, and he saw something which seemed to confirm them in the look and manner of Tristan, whose mode of addressing him, as he marshalled him to the King's bedchamber, was lowering, sullen, and ominous. A close observer of what passed on earth, as well as among the heavenly bodies, the pulley and the rope also caught the Astrologer's eye; and as the latter was in a state of vibration he concluded that some one who had been busy adjusting it had been interrupted in the work by his sudden arrival. All this he saw, and summoned together his subtilty to evade the impending danger, resolved, should he find that impossible, to defend himself to the last against whomsoever should assail him.
Thus resolved, and with a step and look corresponding to the determination he had taken, Martius presented himself before Louis, alike unabashed at the miscarriage of his predictions, and undismayed at the Monarch's anger, and its probable consequences.
"Every good planet be gracious to your Majesty!" said Galeotti, with an inclination almost Oriental in manner. "Every evil constellation withhold its influence from my royal master!"
"Methinks," replied the King, "that when you look around this apartment, when you think where it is situated, and how guarded, your wisdom might consider that my propitious stars had proved faithless and that each evil conjunction had already done its worst. Art thou not ashamed, Martius Galeotti, to see me here and a prisoner, when you recollect by what assurances I was lured hither?"
"And art thou not ashamed, my royal Sire?" replied the philosopher, "thou, whose step in science was so forward, thy apprehension so quick, thy perseverance so unceasing -- art thou not ashamed to turn from the first frown of fortune, like a craven from the first clash of arms? Didst thou propose to become participant of those mysteries which raise men above the passions, the mischances, the pains, the sorrows of life, a state only to be attained by rivalling the firmness of the ancient Stoic, and dost thou shrink from the first pressure of adversity, and forfeit the glorious prize for which thou didst start as a competitor, frightened out of the course, like a scared racer, by shadowy and unreal evils?"
"Shadowy and unreal! frontless as thou art!" exclaimed the King. "Is this dungeon unreal? -- the weapons of the guards of my detested enemy Burgundy, which you may hear clash at the gate, are those shadows? What, traitor, are real evils, if imprisonment, dethronement, and danger of life are not so?"
"Ignorance -- ignorance, my brother, and prejudice," answered the sage, with great firmness, "are the only real evils. Believe me that Kings in the plenitude of power, if immersed in ignorance and prejudice, are less free than sages in a dungeon, and loaded with material chains. Towards this true happiness it is mine to guide you -- be it yours to attend to my instructions."
"And it is to such philosophical freedom that your lessons would have guided me?" said the King very bitterly. "I would you had told me at Plessis that the dominion promised me so liberally was an empire over my own passions; that the success of which I was assured, related to my progress in philosophy, and that I might become as wise and as learned as a strolling mountebank of Italy! I might surely have attained this mental ascendency at a more moderate price than that of forfeiting the fairest crown in Christendom, and becoming tenant of a dungeon in Peronne! Go, sir, and think not to escape condign punishment. -- There is a Heaven above us!"
"I leave you not to your fate," replied Martius, "until I have vindicated, even in your eyes, darkened as they are, that reputation, a brighter gem than the brightest in thy crown, and at which the world shall wonder, ages after all the race of Capet (the surname of the kings of France, beginning with Hugh Capet, 987) are mouldered into oblivion in the charnels of Saint Denis."
"Speak on," said Louis. "Thine impudence cannot make me change my purposes or my opinion. -- Yet as I may never again pass judgment as a King, I will not censure thee unheard. Speak, then -- though the best thou canst say will be to speak the truth. Confess that I am a dupe, thou an impostor, thy pretended science a dream, and the planets which shine above us as little influential of our destiny as their shadows, when reflected in the river, are capable of altering its course."
"And how know'st thou," answered the Astrologer boldly, "the secret influence of yonder blessed lights? Speak'st thou of their inability to influence waters, when yet thou know'st that ever the weakest, the moon herself -- weakest because nearest to this wretched earth of ours -- holds under her domination not such poor streams as the Somme, but the tides of the mighty ocean itself, which ebb and increase as her disc waxes and wanes, and watch her influence as a slave waits the nod of a Sultana? And now, Louis of Valois, answer my parable in turn. -- Confess, art thou not like the foolish passenger, who becomes wroth with his pilot because he cannot bring the vessel into harbour without experiencing occasionally the adverse force of winds and currents? I could indeed point to thee the probable issue of thine enterprise as prosperous, but it was in the power of Heaven alone to conduct thee thither; and if the path be rough and dangerous, was it in my power to smooth or render it more safe? Where is thy wisdom of yesterday, which taught thee so truly to discern that the ways of destiny are often ruled to our advantage, though in opposition to our wishes?"
"You remind me -- you remind me," said the King hastily, "of one specific falsehood. You foretold yonder Scot should accomplish his enterprise fortunately for my interest and honour; and thou knowest it has so terminated that no more mortal injury could I have received than from the impression which the issue of that affair is like to make on the excited brain of the Mad Bull of Burgundy. This is a direct falsehood. -- Thou canst plead no evasion here -- canst refer to no remote favourable turn of the tide, for which, like an idiot sitting on the bank until the river shall pass away, thou wouldst have me wait contentedly. -- Here thy craft deceived thee. -- Thou wert weak enough to make a specific prediction, which has proved directly false."
"Which will prove most firm and true," answered the Astrologer boldly. "I would desire no greater triumph of art over ignorance, than that prediction and its accomplishment will afford. - I told thee he would be faithful in any honourable commission. -- Hath he not been so? -- I told thee he would be scrupulous in aiding any evil enterprise. -- Hath he not proved so? -- If you doubt it, go ask the Bohemian, Hayraddin Maugrabin."
The King here coloured deeply with shame and anger.
"I told thee," continued the Astrologer, "that the conjunction of planets under which he set forth augured danger to the person -- and hath not his path been beset by danger? -- I told thee that it augured an advantage to the sender -- and of that thou wilt soon have the benefit."
"Soon have the benefit!" exclaimed the King. "Have I not the result already, in disgrace and imprisonment?"
"No," answered the Astrologer, "the End is not as yet -- thine own tongue shall e............