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Of your most honour'd brother. Sire, so be it!
Your minister, the Count de Baradas;

A most sagacious choice! Your secretaries
Of state attend me, sire, to render up
The legers of a realm. I do beseech you,
Suffer these noble gentlemen to learn

The nature of the glorious task that waits them,
Here, in my presence.

LOUIS.

You say well, my lord.

(To secretaries, as he seats himself.)

Approach, sirs.

RICHELIEU.

I-I-faint! air-air

(Joseph and a gentleman assist him to a sofa, placed beneath

a window).

[blocks in formation]

Manent Richelieu, Mauprat, and Julie, the last kneeling beside the cardinal; the officer of the guard behind Mau prat. Joseph near Richelieu, watching the king. Louis. Baradas at the back of the king's chair, anxious and disturbed. Orleans at a greater distance, careless and triumphant. The secretaries. As each secretary advances in his turn, he takes the portfolios from the sub-secretaries.

FIRST SECRETARY.

The affairs of Portugal, One short month since the Duke

Most urgent, sire.
Braganza was a rebel.

LOUIS.

And is still!

FIRST SECRETARY.

No, sire, he has succeeded! He is now

Crown'd King of Portugal; craves instant succour
Against the arms of Spain.

[blocks in formation]

But Spain's your deadliest foe: whatever

Can weaken Spain must strengthen France. The cardinal

Would send the succours: (solemnly) balance, sire, of Europe!

LOUIS.

The cardinal! balance! We'll consider. Eh, count?

BARADAS.

Yes, sire; fall back.

FIRST SECRETARY.
But-

BARADAS.

Oh! fall back, sir.

JOSEPH.

Humph!

SECOND SECRETARY.

The affairs of England, sire, most urgent: Charles
The First has lost a battle that decides

One half his realm; craves moneys, sire, and succour.

LOUIS.

He shall have both. Eh, Baradas?

BARADAS.

Yes, sire.

(Oh that despatch! my veins are fire!)

RICHELIEU (feebly, but with great distinctness).

Forgive me; Charles's cause is lost!
Named Cromwell, risen-a great man;
Would fail, your loans be squander'd!

LOUIS.

My liege,
A man,

your succour
Pause, reflect.*

Reflect. Eh, Baradas?

BARADAS.

Reflect, sire.

JOSEPH.

Humph!

LOUIS (aside).

I half repent! No successor to Richelieu !
Round me thrones totter! dynasties dissolve!
The soil he guards alone escapes the earthquake!

JOSEPH.

Our star not yet eclipsed! you mark the king?
Oh! had we the despatch!

RICHELIEU.

Would I could help thee!

Ah! Joseph! Child,

Enter gentleman, whispers Joseph, who exit hastily.

BARADAS (to secretary).

Sir, fall back.

SECOND SECRETARY.

BARADAS.

But

Pshaw, sir!

THIRD SECRETARY (mysteriously).

The secret correspondence, sire, most urgent:
Accounts of spies, deserters, heretics,

Assassins, poisoners, schemes against yourself!

LOUIS.

Myself! most urgent! (looking on the documents).

* See in "Cinq Mars," vol. v., the striking and brilliant chapter from which the interlude of the secretaries is borrowed.

Re-enter Joseph with François, whose pourpoint is streaked with blood. François passes behind the cardinal's attendants, and, sheltered by them from the sight of Baradas, &c., falls at Richelieu's feet.

FRANCOIS.

Oh! my lord!

RICHELIEU.

Thou art bleeding!

FRANCOIS.

A scratch; I have not failed! (gives the packet.)

RICHELIEU.

Hush! (looking at the contents.)

THIRD SECRETARY (to king).

Sire, the Spaniards

Have re-enforced their army on the frontiers.

The Duc de Bouillon

RICHELIEU.

Hold! In this department,

A paper-here, sire, read yourself; then take
The count's advice in't.

-Enter De Beringhen hastily, and draws aside Baradas. (Richelieu, to secretary, giving an open parchment.) BARADAS (bursting from De Beringhen).

What! and reft it from thee!

Ha! hold!

JOSEPH.

Fall back, son; it is your turn now!

BARADAS.

Death! the despatch!

LOUIS (reading).

To Bouillon, and sign'd Orleans!
Baradas, too! league with our foes of Spain!
Lead our Italian armies-what! to Paris!
Capture the king; my health require repose;
Make me subscribe my proper abdication;

L

Orleans, my brother, regent!
These are the men I loved!

Saints of Heaven!

(Baradas draws, attempts to rush out, is arrested. Orleans, endeavouring to escape more quickly, meets Joseph's eye, and stops short.)

(Richelieu falls back.)

JOSEPH.

See to the cardinal!

BARADAS.

He's dying! and I yet shall dupe the king!

LOUIS (rushing to Richelieu).

Richelieu! lord cardinal! 'tis I resign!

Reign thou!

[blocks in formation]

The army, Orleans, Bouillon-Heavens! the Spaniard! Where will they be next week?

RICHELIEU (starting up).

There, at my feet!

(To First and Second Secretary.)

Ere the clock strike! The envoys have their answer!

(To Third Secretary, with a ring.)

This to De Chavigny; he knows the rest;

No need of parchment here; he must not halt

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