The First Appearance of Colbert.
The whole night was passed in anguish, common to the dying man and to the king: the dying man expected his deliverance, the king awaited his liberty. Louis did not go to bed. An hour after leaving the chamber of the cardinal, he learned that the dying man, recovering a little strength, had insisted upon being dressed, adorned and painted, and seeing the ambassadors. Like Augustus, he no doubt considered the world a great stage, and was desirous of playing out the last act of the comedy. Anne of Austria reappeared no more in the cardinal's apartments; she had nothing more to do there. Propriety was the pretext for her absence. On his part, the cardinal did not ask for her: the advice the queen had giver her son rankled in his heart.
Towards midnight, while still painted, Mazarin's mortal agony came on.
He had revised his will, and as this will was the exact expression of his wishes, and as he feared that some interested influence might take advantage of his weakness to make him change something in it, he had given orders to Colbert, who walked up and down the corridor which led to the cardinal's bed-chamber, like the most vigilant of sentinels. The king, shut up in his own apartment, dispatched his nurse every hour to Mazarin's chamber, with orders to bring him back an exact bulletin of the cardinal's state. After having heard that Mazarin was dressed, painted, and had seen the ambassadors, Louis herd that the prayers for the dying were being read for the cardinal. At one o'clock in the morning, Guenaud had administered the last remedy. This was a relic of the old customs of that fencing time, which was about to disappear to give place to another time, to believe that death could be kept off by some good secret thrust. Mazarin, after having taken the remedy, respired freely for nearly ten minutes. He immediately gave orders that the news should be spread everywhere of a fortunate crisis. The king, on learning this, felt as if a cold sweat were passing over his brow; - he had had a glimpse of the light of liberty; slavery appeared to him more dark and less acceptable than ever. But the bulletin which followed entirely changed the face of things. Mazarin could no longer breathe at all, and could scarcely follow the prayers which the cure of Saint-Nicholas-des-Champs recited near him. The king resumed his agitated walk about his chamber, and consulted, as he walked, several papers drawn from a casket of which he alone had the key. A third time the nurse returned. M. de Mazarin had just uttered a joke, and had ordered his "Flora," by Titian, to be revarnished. At length, towards two o'clock in the morning, the king could no longer resist his weariness: he had not slept for twenty- four hours. Sleep, so powerful at his age, overcame him for about an hour. But he did not go to bed for that hour; he slept in a _fauteuil_.
About four o'clock his nurse awoke him by entering the room.
"Well?" asked the king.
"Well, my dear sire," said the nurse, clasping her hands with an air of commiseration. "Well; he is dead!"
The king arose at a bound, as if a steel spring had been applied to his legs. "Dead!" cried he.
"Alas! yes."
"Is it quite certain?"
"Yes."
"Official?"
"Yes."
"Has the news been made public?"
"Not yet."
"Who told you, then, that the cardinal was dead?"
"M. Colbert."
"M. Colbert?"
"Yes."
"And he was sure of what he said?"
"He came out of the chamber, and had held a glass for some minutes before the cardinal's lips."
"Ah!" said the king. "And what is become of M. Colbert?"
"He has just left his eminence's chamber."
"Where is he?"
"He followed me."
"So that he is - "
"Sire, waiting at your door, till it shall be your good pleasure to receive him."
Louis ran to the door, opened it himself, and perceived Colbert standing waiting in the passage. The king started at sight of this statue, all clothed in black. Colbert, bowing with profound respect, advanced two steps towards his majesty. Louis re-entered his chamber, making Colbert a sign to follow. Colbert entered; Louis dismissed the nurse, who closed the door as she went out. Colbert remained modestly standing near that door.
"What do you come to announce to me, monsieur?" said Louis, very much troubled at being thus surprised in his private thoughts, which he could not completely conceal.
"That monsieur le cardinal has just expired, sire; and that I bring your majesty his last adieu."
The king remained pensive for a minute; and during that minute he looked attentively at Colbert; - it was evident that the cardinal's last words were in his mind. "Are you, then, M. Colbert?" asked he.
"Yes, sire."
"His faithful servant, as his eminence himself told me?"
"Yes, sire."
"The depositary of many of his secrets?"
"Of all of them."
"The friends and servants of his eminence will be dear to me, monsieur, and I shall take care that you are well placed in my employment."
Colbert bowed.
"You are a financier, monsieur, I believe?"
"Yes, sire."
"And did monsieur le cardinal employ you in his stewardship?"
"I had that honor, sire."
"You never did anything personally for my household, I believe?"
"Pardon me, sire, it was I who had the honor of giving monsieur le cardinal the idea of an economy which puts three hundred thousand francs a year into your majesty's coffers."
"What economy was that, monsieur?" asked Louis XIV.
"Your majesty knows that the hundred Swiss have silver lace on each side of their ribbons?"
"Doubtless."
"Well, sire, it was I who proposed that imitation silver lace should be placed upon these ribbons; it could not be detected, and a hundred thousand crowns serve to feed a regiment during six months; and is the price of ten thousand good muskets or the value of a vessel of ten guns, ready for sea."
"That is true," said Louis XIV., considering more attentively, "and, _ma foi!_ that was a well placed economy; besides, it was ridiculous for soldiers to wear the same lace as noblemen."
"I am happy to be approved of by your majesty."
