他舅父对他这一失礼的表现很生气，狠狠地瞪了他一眼，从而使他镇定过来。然而目光敏捷的国王立刻认出他，不理睬别人而径直向他走来，他更是大为吃惊。“喂，年轻人，”他说道，“我听说你一到都兰就闹事。不过，我原谅你，因为这主要是一个愚蠢的老商人的过错。他以为有必要在早晨用波尔尼酒暖暖你那苏格兰人的热血。要是我能找到他，我将惩罚他，作为对那些敢于腐蚀我的卫队的人们的一种告诫。巴拉弗雷，”他对莱斯利补充说道，“你外甥是个漂亮的小伙子，不过火气很大。我很愿意培养这种精神，也打算比以往更看重我周围的勇士。你把你外甥的生辰年月写下来交给奥利弗•丹。”
勒巴拉弗雷深深地鞠了一躬，然后重新摆好军人的立正姿势，像是要以此表示他随时准备为国王效忠。昆丁也已经从原先的惊奇中镇定下来，开始更仔细地打量国王的外表。当他发现他现在对国王的举止和仪容的看法与他们初次见面时多么不同，不禁又感到十分惊讶。
表面看来这一切并没有很大的变化，因为路易王经常嘲笑人们炫耀外表。眼下这个场合他也只是穿着比前一天那件普通平民服好不了多少的深蓝色猎人装，佩戴着一大串马木念珠。这串念珠是“太君”这样一个了不起的人物赠送给他的礼品，据说是黎巴嫩山上一个十分圣洁的埃及基督教隐士使用过的遗物。他头上戴的是顶帽边上至少饰有一打铅制小圣徒像的礼帽，而不是那顶只饰有一个圣母像的便帽。然而，昆丁原先觉得只是闪烁着贪欲的那双眼睛，一旦他知道是属于一位能干而强有力的君主，便觉得更加犀利与威严。他额上的那些皱纹，原以为是长期琐屑地盘算生意经留下的印迹，现在却成了为国运操劳而留下的智慧的印痕。
国王刚上朝不久，“法国公主”也在她们侍女的伴随下来到大厅。就后来嫁给了波旁•彼得而在法国历史上称之为“博若小姐”的长公主来说，我们这本小说与她关系不大。她个子高大，相当漂亮，具有口才和文才以及得自父亲的那种明智，是她父亲十分信赖、也可能最喜爱的女儿。
她那不幸的妹妹让娜公主是奥尔良公爵的未婚妻。她羞怯地走在姐姐身边，意识到自己丝毫没有女人们最希望具备，或被认为具备的美貌。她脸色苍白，面孔瘦削而憔悴；身体明显地倾向一边，步履很不均匀，接近跛足的地步。有意阿谀她的人敢于列举出来，略微弥补其丑陋的面貌和体态的，也不过是
Chapter 9 The Boar Hunt
I will converse with unrespective boys And iron witted fools. None are for me that look into me with suspicious eyes.
KING RICHARD
All the experience which the Cardinal had been able to collect of his master's disposition, did not, upon the present occasion, prevent his falling into a great error of policy. His vanity induced him to think that he had been more successful in prevailing upon the Count of Crevecoeur to remain at Tours, than any other moderator whom the King might have employed, would, in all probability, have been. And as he was well aware of the importance which Louis attached to the postponement of a war with the Duke of Burgundy, he could not help showing that he conceived himself to have rendered the King great and acceptable service. He pressed nearer to the King's person than he was wont to do, and endeavoured to engage him in conversation on the events of the morning.
This was injudicious in more respects than one, for princes love not to see their subjects approach them with an air conscious of deserving, and thereby seeming desirous to extort, acknowledgment and recompense for their services; and Louis, the most jealous monarch that ever lived, was peculiarly averse and inaccessible to any one who seemed either to presume upon service rendered or to pry into his secrets.
Yet, hurried away, as the most cautious sometimes are, by the self satisfied humour of the moment, the Cardinal continued to ride on the King's right hand, turning the discourse, whenever it was possible, upon Crevecoeur and his embassy which, although it might be the matter at that moment most in the King's thoughts, was nevertheless precisely that which he was least willing to converse on. At length Louis, who had listened to him with attention, yet without having returned any answer which could tend to prolong the conversation, signed to Dunois, who rode at no great distance, to come up on the other side of his horse.
"We came hither for sport and exercise," said he, "but the reverend Father here would have us hold a council of state."
"I hope your Highness will excuse my assistance," said Dunois; "I am born to fight the battles of France, and have heart and hand for that, but I have no head for her councils."
"My Lord Cardinal hath a head turned for nothing else, Dunois," answered Louis; "he hath confessed Crevecoeur at the Castle gate, and he hath communicated to us his whole shrift. -- Said you not the whole?" he continued, with an emphasis on the word, and a glance at the Cardinal, which shot from betwixt his long dark eyelashes as a dagger gleams when it leaves the scabbard.
The Cardinal trembled, as, endeavouring to reply to the King's jest, he said that though his order were obliged to conceal the secrets of their penitents in general, there was no sigillum confessionis (seal of confession) which could not be melted at his Majesty's breath.
"And as his Eminence," said the King, "is ready to communicate the secrets of others to us, he naturally expects that we should be equally communicative to him; and, in order to get upon this reciprocal footing, he is very reasonably desirous to know if these two ladies of Croye be actually in our territories. We are sorry we cannot indulge his curiosity, not ourselves knowing in what precise place errant damsels, disguised princesses, distressed countesses, may lie leaguer within our dominions, which are, we thank God and our Lady of Embrun, rather too extensive for us to answer easily his Eminence's most reasonable inquiries. But supposing they were with us, what say you, Dunois, to our cousin's peremptory demand?"
"I will answer you, my Liege, if you will tell me in sincerity, whether you want war or peace," replied Dunois, with a frankness which, while it arose out of his own native openness and intrepidity of character, made him from time to time a considerable favourite with Louis, who, like all astucious persons, was as desirous of looking into the hearts of others as of concealing his own.
"By my halidome," said he, "I should be as well contented as thyself, Dunois, to tell thee my purpose, did I myself but know it exactly. But say I declared for war, what should I do with this beautiful and wealthy young heiress, supposing her to be in my dominions?"
"Bestow her in marriage on one of your own gallant followers, who has a heart to love, and an arm to protect her," said Dunois.
"Upon thyself, ha!" said the King. "Pasques dieu! thou art more politic than I took thee for, with all thy bluntness."
"Nay," answered Dunois, "I am aught except politic. By our Lady of Orleans, I come to the point at once, as I ride my horse at the ring. Your Majesty owes the house of Orleans at least one happy marriage."
"And I will pay it, Count. Pasques dieu, I will pay it! -- See you not yonder fair couple?"
The King pointed to the unhappy Duke of Orleans and the Princess, who, neither daring to remain at a greater distance from the King, nor in his sight appear separate from each other, were riding side by side, yet with an interval of two or three yards betwixt them, a space which timidity on the one side, and aversion on the other, prevented them from diminishing, while neither dared to increase it.
Dunois looked in the direction of the King's signal, and as the situation of his unfortunate relative and the destined bride reminded him of nothing so much as of two dogs, which, forcibly linked together, remain nevertheless as widely separated as the length of their collars will permit, he could not help shaking his head, though he ventured not on any other reply to the hypocritical tyrant. Louis seemed to guess his thoughts.
"It will be a peaceful and quiet household they will keep -- not much disturbed with children, I should augur. But these are not always a blessing."
(Here the King touches on the very purpose for which he pressed on the match with such tyrannic severity, which was that as the Princess's personal deformity admitted little chance of its being fruitful, the branch of Orleans, which was next in succession to the crown, might be, by the want of heirs, weakened or extinguished)
It was, perhaps, the recollection of his own filial ingratitude that made the King pause as he uttered the last reflection, and which converted the sneer that trembled on his lip into something resembling an expression of contrition. But he instantly proceeded in another tone.
"Frankly, my Dunois, much as I revere the holy sacrament of matrimony" (here he crossed himself), "I would rather the house of Orleans raised for me such gallant soldiers as thy father and thyself, who share the blood royal of France without claiming its rights, than that the country should be torn to pieces, like to England, by wars arising from the rivalry of legitimate candidates for the crown. The lion should never have more than one cub."
Dunois sighed and was silent, conscious that contradicting his arbitrary Sovereign might well hurt his kinsman's interests but could do him no service; yet he could not forbear adding, in the next moment,
"Since your Majesty has alluded to the birth of my father, I must needs own that, setting the frailty of his parents on one side, he might be termed happier, and more fortunate, as the son of lawless love than of conjugal hatred."
"Thou art a scandalous fellow, Dunois, to speak thus of holy wedlock," answered Louis jestingly. "But to the devil with the discourse, for the boar is unharboured. -- Lay on the dogs, in the name of the holy Saint Hubert! -- Ha! ha! tra-la-la-lira-la" -- And the King's horn rang merrily through the woods as he pushed forward on the chase, followed by two or three of his guards, amongst whom was our friend Quentin Durward. And here it was remarkable that, even in the keen prosecution of his favourite sport, the King in indulgence of his caustic disposition, found leisure to amuse himself by tormenting Cardinal Balue.
It was one of that able statesman's weaknesses, as we have elsewhere hinted, to suppose himself, though of low rank and limited education, qualified to play the courtier and the man of gallantry. He did not, indeed, actually enter the lists of chivalrous combat, like Becket, or levy soldiers, like Wolsey. But gallantry, in which they also were proficients, was his professed pursuit; and he likewise affected great fondness for the martial amusement of the chase. Yet, however well he might succeed with certain ladies, to whom his power, his wealth, and his influence as a statesman might atone for deficiencies in appearance and manners, the gallant horses, which he purchased at almost any price, were totally insensible to the dignity of carrying a Cardinal, and paid no more respect to him than they would have done to his father, the carter, miller, or tailor, whom he rivalled in horsemanship. The King knew this, and, by alternately exciting and checking his own horse, he brought that of the Cardinal, whom he kept close by his side, into such a state of mutiny against his rider, that it became apparent they must soon part company; and then, in the midst of its starting, bolting, rearing, and lashing out, alternately, the royal tormentor rendered the rider miserable, by questioning him upon many affairs of importance, and hinting his purpose to take that opportunity of communicating to him some of those secrets of state which the Cardinal had but a little while before seemed so anxious to learn.
(In imputing to the Cardinal a want of skill in horsemanship, I recollected his adventure in Paris when attacked by assassins, on which occasion his mule, being scared by the crowd, ran away with the rider, and taking its course to a monastery, to the abbot of which he formerly belonged; was the means of saving his master's life. . . . S.)
A more awkward situation could hardly be imagined than that of a privy councillor forced to listen to and reply to his sovereign, while each fresh gambade of his unmanageable horse placed him in a new and more precarious attitude -- his violet robe flying loose in every direction, and nothing securing him from an instant and perilous fall save the depth of the saddle, and its height before and behind. Dunois laughed without restraint; while the King, who had a private mode of enjoying his jest inwardly, without laughing aloud, mildly rebuked his minister on his eager passion for the chase, which would not permit him to dedicate a few moments to business.
"I will no longer be your hindrance to a course," continued he, addressing the terrified Cardinal, and giving his own horse the rein at the same time.
Before Balue could utter a word by way of answer or apology, his horse, seizing the bit with his teeth, went forth at an uncontrollable gallop, soon leaving behind the King and Dunois, who followed at a more regulated pace, enjoying the statesman's distressed predicament. If any of our readers has chanced to be run away with in his time (as we ourselves have in ours), he will have a full sense at once of the pain, peril, and absurdity of the situation. Those four limbs of the quadruped, which, noway under the rider's control, nor sometimes under that of the creature they more properly belong to, fly at such a rate as if the hindermost meant to overtake the foremost; those clinging legs of the biped which we so often wish safely planted on the greensward, but which now only augment our distress by pressing the animal's sides -- the hands which have forsaken the bridle for the mane -- the body, which, instead of sitting upright on the centre of gravity, as old Angelo (a celebrated riding and fencing master at the beginning of the nineteenth century) used to recommend, or stooping forward like a jockey's at Newmarket (the scene of the annual horse races has been at Newmarket Heath since the time of James I), lies, rather than hangs, crouched upon the back of the animal, with no better chance of saving itself than a sack of corn -- combine to make a picture more than sufficiently ludicrous to spectators, however uncomfortable to the exhibiter. But add to this some singularity of dress or appearance on the part of the unhappy cavalier -- a robe of office, a splendid uniform, or any other peculiarity of costume -- and let the scene of action be a race course, a review, a procession, or any other place of concourse and public display, and if the poor wight would escape being the object of a shout of inextinguishable laughter, he must contrive to break a limb or two, or, which will be more effectual, to be killed on the spot; for on no slighter condition will his fall excite anything like serious sympathy. On the present occasion, the short violet coloured gown of the Cardinal, which he used as riding dress (having changed his long robes before he left the Castle), his scarlet stockings, and scarlet hat, with the long strings hanging down, together with his utter helplessness, gave infinite zest to his exhibition of horsemanship.
The horse, having taken matters entirely into his own hand, flew rather than galloped up a long green avenue; overtook the pack in hard pursuit of the boar, and then, having overturned one or two yeomen prickers, who little expected to be charged in the rear -- having ridden down several dogs, and greatly confused the chase -- animated by the clamorous expostulations and threats of the huntsman, carried the terrified Cardinal past the formidable animal itself, which was rushing on at a speedy trot, furious and embossed with the foam which he churned around his tusks. Balue, on beholding himself so near the boar, set up a dreadful cry for help, which, or perhaps the sight of the boar, produced such an effect on his horse, that the animal interrupted its headlong career by suddenly springing to one side; so that the Cardinal, who had long kept his seat only because the motion was straight forward, now fell heavily to the ground. The conclusion of Balue's chase took place so near the boar that, had not the animal been at that moment too much engaged about his own affairs, the vicinity might have proved as fatal to the Cardinal, as it is said to have done to Favila, King of the Visigoths of Spain (he was killed by a bear while hunting). The powerful churchman got off, however, for the fright, and, crawling as hastily as he could out of the way of hounds and huntsmen, saw the whole chase sweep by him without affording him assistance, for hunters in those days were as little moved by sympathy for such misfortunes as they are in our own. The King, as he passed, said to Dunois, "Yonder lies his Eminence low enough -- he is no great huntsman, though for a fisher (when a secret is to be caught) he may match Saint Peter himself. He has, however, for once, I think, met with his match."
