In which the King and the Lieutenant each give Proofs of Memory.
When the king, like all the people in the world who are in love, had long and attentively watched disappear in the distance the carriage which bore away his mistress; when he had turned and turned again a hundred times to the same side and had at length succeeded in somewhat calming the agitation of his heart and thoughts, he recollected that he was not alone.The officer still held the horse by the bridle, and had not lost all hope of seeing the king recover his resolution.He had still the resource of mounting and riding after the carriage; they would have lost nothing by waiting a little.But the imagination of the lieutenant of the musketeers was too rich and too brilliant; it left far behind it that of the king, who took care not to allow himself to be carried away to any such excess.He contented himself with approaching the officer, and in a doleful voice, "Come," said he, "let us be gone; all is ended.To horse!"The officer imitated this carriage, this slowness, this sadness, and leisurely mounted his horse.The king pushed on sharply, the lieutenant followed him.At the bridge Louis turned around for the last time.The lieutenant, patient as a god who has eternity behind and before him, still hoped for a return of energy.But it was groundless, nothing appeared.Louis gained the street which led to the castle, and entered as seven was striking.When the king had returned, and the musketeer, who saw everything, had seen a corner of the tapestry over the cardinal's window lifted up, he breathed a profound sigh, like a man unloosed from the tightest bounds, and said in a low voice:
"Now, then, my officer, I hope that it is over."The king summoned his gentleman."Please to understand Ishall receive nobody before two o'clock," said he.
"Sire," replied the gentleman, "there is, however, some one who requests admittance.""Who is that?"
"Your lieutenant of musketeers."
"He who accompanied me?"
"Yes, sire."
"Ah," said the king, "let him come in."
The officer entered.The king made a sign, and the gentleman and the valet retired.Louis followed them with his eyes until they had shut the door, and when the tapestries had fallen behind them, -- "You remind me by your presence, monsieur, of something I had forgotten to recommend to you, that is to say, the most absolute discretion.""Oh! sire, why does your majesty give yourself the trouble of ****** me such a recommendation? It is plain you do not know me.""Yes, monsieur, that is true.I know that you are discreet;but as I had prescribed nothing ---- "
The officer bowed."Has your majesty nothing else to say to me?""No, monsieur; you may retire."
"Shall I obtain permission not to do so till I have spoken to the king, sire?""What have you to say to me? Explain yourself, monsieur.""Sire, a thing without importance to you, but which interests me greatly.Pardon me, then, for speaking of it.
Without urgency, without necessity, I never would have done it, and I would have disappeared, mute and insignificant as I always have been.""How! Disappeared! I do not understand you, monsieur.""Sire, in a word," said the officer, "I am come to ask for my discharge from your majesty's service."The king made a movement of surprise, but the officer remained as motionless as a statue.
"Your discharge -- yours, monsieur? and for how long a time, I pray?""Why, forever, sire."
"What, you are desirous of quitting my service, monsieur?"said Louis, with an expression that revealed something more than surprise.
"Sire, I regret to say that I am."
"Impossible!"
"It is so, however, sire.I am getting old; I have worn harness now thirty-five years; my poor shoulders are tired;I feel that I must give place to the young.I don't belong to this age; I have still one foot in the old one; it results that everything is strange in my eyes, everything astonishes and bewilders me.In short, I have the honor to ask your majesty for my discharge.""Monsieur," said the king, looking at the officer, who wore his uniform with an ease that would have caused envy in a young man, "you are stronger and more vigorous than I am.""Oh!" replied the officer, with an air of false modesty, "your majesty says so because I still have a good eye and a tolerably firm foot -- because I can still ride a horse, and my mustache is black; but, sire, vanity of vanities all that -- illusions all that -- appearance, smoke, sire! I have still a youthful air, it is true, but I feel old, and within six months I am certain I shall be broken down, gouty, impotent.Therefore, then sire ---- ""Monsieur," interrupted the king, "remember your words of yesterday.You said to me in this very place where you now are, that you were endowed with the best health of any man in France; that fatigue was unknown to you! that you did not mind spending whole days and nights at your post.Did you tell me that, monsieur, or not? Try and recall, monsieur."The officer sighed."Sire," said he, "old age is boastful;and it is pardonable for old men to praise themselves when others no longer do it.It is very possible I said that; but the fact is, sire, I am very much fatigued, and request permission to retire.""Monsieur," said the king, advancing towards the officer with a gesture full of majesty, "you are not assigning me the true reason.You wish to quit my service, it may be true, but you disguise from me the motive of your retreat.""Sire, believe that ---- "
"I believe what I see, monsieur; I see a vigorous, energetic man, full of presence of mind, the best soldier in France, perhaps; and this personage cannot persuade me the least in the world that you stand in need of rest.""Ah! sire," said the lieutenant, with bitterness, "what praise! Indeed, your majesty confounds me! Energetic, vigorous, brave, intelligent, the best soldier in the army!
