The Three Musketeers (Translated by Richard Pevear) - Alexandre Dumas [73]
“Yes, but calumny seized on all these follies in which I had no part, as you know very well, Milord. The king, spurred on by the cardinal, made a terrible scandal: Mme de Vernet57 was driven out, Putange exiled, Mme de Chevreuse fell into disfavor, and when you wanted to return as ambassador to France, the king himself, you remember, Milord, the king himself opposed it.”
“Yes, and France will pay for her king’s refusal with a war. I cannot see you again, Madame. Well, then, I want you to hear about me every day!
“What do you think might be the goal of this expedition to the Île de Ré and this league with the Protestants of La Rochelle that I’m planning? The pleasure of seeing you!58
“I cannot hope to penetrate all the way to Paris by force of arms, I know that very well; but this war may lead to a peace, that peace will need a negotiator, and that negotiator will be me. They will not dare refuse me then, and I will return to Paris, and I will see you, and I will have a moment of happiness. True, thousands of men will have paid for my happiness with their lives; but what will that matter to me, provided I see you again! All this may well be mad, it may well be absurd; but tell me, what woman has a more loving lover? What queen has ever had a more ardent servant?”
“Milord, Milord, you call things for your defense that accuse you still more. Milord, all these proofs of love that you wish to give me are almost crimes.”
“Because you do not love me, Madame: if you loved me, you would see it all differently; if you loved me—oh! but if you loved me, the happiness would be too much, and I would go mad. Ah! Mme de Chevreuse, of whom you just spoke, Mme de Chevreuse was less cruel than you. Holland59 loved her, and she returned his love.”
“Mme de Chevreuse was not a queen,” murmured Anne d’Autriche, conquered despite herself by so deep a love.
“Would you love me, then, if you were not one yourself, Madame, tell me, would you love me then? I may believe, then, that it is the dignity of your rank alone that makes you so cruel towards me; I may believe, then, that if you had been Mme de Chevreuse, poor Buckingham would have been able to hope? Thank you for those gentle words, O my beautiful Majesty, thank you a thousand times.”
“Ah! Milord, you have misunderstood, you have misinterpreted me. I did not mean to say…”
“Silence! Silence!” said the duke. “If I am happy by an error, do not have the cruelty to take it from me. As you have said yourself, I have been drawn into a trap, and it will perhaps cost me my life, for, you know, it’s strange, for some time now I have had presentiments that I am going to die.” And the duke smiled a sad and at the same time charming smile.
“Oh, my God!” cried Anne d’Autriche, with an accent of fright that proved how much greater an interest she took in the duke than she was willing to say.
“I do not say that to frighten you, Madame, not at all; what I’ve said is even ridiculous, and, believe me, I never concern myself with such dreams. But those words you just spoke, that hope you have almost given me, would have paid for all, even my life.”
“Well!” said Anne d’Autriche, “I also have my presentiments, Duke, I also have my dreams. I dreamed that I saw you lying wounded in a pool of blood.”
“In the left side, wasn’t it, with a knife?” interrupted Buckingham.
“Yes, that’s right, Milord, that’s right, in the left side with a knife. Who could have told you I dreamed that? I confided it only to God, and in my prayers alone.”
“I want nothing more, and you do love me, Madame, that’s good.”
“I love you?”
“Yes, you do. Would God send the same dreams to you as to me if you did not love me? Would we have the same presentiments if our two existences did not