The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [43]
“And in what am I so unfortunate as to have displeased Your Majesty?” asked M. de Tréville, feigning the deepest astonishment.
“Is this how you fulfill your responsibilities, Monsieur?” the king went on, without responding directly to M. de Tréville’s question. “Is it for this that I named you captain of my musketeers, that they should murder a man, stir up a whole quarter, and try to burn down Paris without your saying a word? However,” the king went on, “I am no doubt being hasty in accusing you. No doubt the troublemakers are in prison, and you have come to inform me that justice has been done.”
“On the contrary, Sire,” M. de Tréville replied calmly, “I have come to ask you for justice.”
“Against whom?” cried the king.
“Against slanderers,” said M. de Tréville.
“Ah! here’s something new!” the king picked up. “Are you going to tell me that your three damned musketeers, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, and your lad from Béarn, didn’t throw themselves like madmen on poor Bernajoux and mistreat him so badly that he’s probably on his way out of this world as I speak? Are you going to say that after that they didn’t lay siege to the hôtel of the duc de La Trémouille, and that they didn’t intend to burn it? Which would perhaps have been no great misfortune in time of war, seeing that it’s a nest of Huguenots, but which, in time of peace, is a regrettable example. Tell me, are you going to deny all that?”
“And who told you this fine tale, Sire?” M. de Tréville asked calmly.
“Who told me this fine tale, Monsieur? Who else could it be, if not he who wakes while I sleep, who works while I amuse myself, who runs everything inside and outside the realm, in France as well as in Europe?”
“His Majesty is doubtless referring to God,” said M. de Tréville, “for I know of no one but God who could be so far above His Majesty.”
“No, Monsieur, I am referring to the sole support of the state, to my only servant, to my only friend—M. le cardinal.”
“His Eminence is not His Holiness, Sire.”
“What do you mean by that, Monsieur?”
“That only the pope is infallible, and that this infallibility does not extend to cardinals.”
“You mean to say he’s deceiving me, you mean to say he’s betraying me? You’re accusing him, then. Come, tell me, admit frankly that you’re accusing him.”
“No, Sire. But I say that he is deceived himself; I say that he has been ill informed; I say that he was in haste to accuse Your Majesty’s musketeers, towards whom he is unjust, and that he has not drawn his information from the best sources.”
“The accusation comes from M. de La Trémouille, from the duke himself. What do you say to that?”
“I might say, Sire, that he is too interested in the question to be an impartial witness; but beyond that, Sire, I know the duke to be a loyal gentleman, and I will defer to him, but on one condition, Sire.”
“Which is?”
“That Your Majesty have him come, question him, but yourself, one to one, without witnesses, and that I see Your Majesty again as soon as you have received the duke.”
“Why, yes!” said the king. “And you will defer to what M. de La Trémouille says?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“You will accept his judgment?”
“Unquestionably.”
“And you will submit to the reparations he demands?”
“Completely.”
“La Chesnaye!”41 cried the king. “La Chesnaye!”
The trusted valet of Louis XIII, who always stood by the door, came in.
“La Chesnaye,” said the king, “send someone this instant to summon M. de La Trémouille to me. I wish to speak to him this evening.”
“Your Majesty gives me his word that he will see no one between M. de La Trémouille and myself?”
“No one, as I’m a gentleman.”
“Till tomorrow, then, Sire.”
“Till tomorrow, Monsieur.”
“At what hour, if it please Your Majesty?”
“At whatever hour you like.”
“But if I come too early in the morning, I fear I shall awaken Your Majesty.”
“Awaken me? Do I ever sleep?