RICHELIEU. How like a spider shall I sit in my hole, But, my lord, Were it not wiser still to man the palace, RICHELIEU. No; Louis, Long chafed against me, Julie stolen from him Against his servant, nor conceal one whisper Into his ear, to fester the fair name Of my-I mean his minister! Oh! Joseph, GOOD; all favours JOSEPH. This is the curse, my lord, Of your high state; suspicion of all men. *This tract on the "Unity of the Minister," contains all the doctrines, and many more to the same effect, referred to in the text, and had a prodigious influence on the conscience of the poor king. At the onset of his career, Richelieu, as deputy of the clergy of Poitou, complained in his harangue to the king that ecclesiastics were too rarely summoned to the royal councils, and invoked the example of the Druids! RICHELIEU (sadly). True, true; my leeches bribed to poisoners; pages (This brain the unresting loom, from which was woven My own dear foster-child, forgive me! yes; JOSEPH. And Joseph RICHELIEU (after a pause). You Yes, I believe you; yes, for all men fear you; Our Mother Church.† Ah, Joseph, Bishop Joseph ! *Joseph's ambition was not, however, so moderate; he refused a bishopric, and desired the cardinal's hat, for which favour Richelieu openly supplicated the Holy See, but contrived somehow or other never to effect it, although two ambassadors applied for it at Rome. †The peculiar religion of Père Joseph may be illustrated by the following anecdote: An officer, whom he had dismissed upon an expedition into Germany, moved by conscience at the orders he had received, returned for farther explanations, and found the Capuchin disant sa messe. He approached and whispered, "But, my father, if these people defend themselves-" "Kill all" (Qu'on tue tout), answered the good father, continuing his devotions. ACT III. Second Day (Midnight). SCENE I. Richelieu's Castle at Ruelle. A Gothic chamber. light at the window, occasionally obscured. RICHELIEU (reading).* Moon "In silence and at night, the conscience feels * I need not say that the great length of this soliloquy adapts it only for the closet, and that but few of the lines are preserved on the stage. To the reader, however, the passages omitted in representation will not, perhaps, be the most uninteresting in the play, and may be deemed necessary to the completion of the cardinal's portrait, action on the stage supplying so subtly the place of words in the closet. The self-assured sophistries which, in the text, mingle with Richelieu's better-founded arguments in apology for the darker traits of his character, are to be found scattered throughout the writings as cribed to him. The reader will observe that in this self-confession lies the latent poetical justice which separates happiness from success. [Lines retained on the stage enclosed in brackets.] Ofttimes the secret rivulets that swell Its might of waters, blend the hues of blood. Wrestles with man for some slight plank, whose weight The colourings and humanities that clothe Can make our memory hideous! I have wrought Great uses out of evil tools; and they In the time to come may bask beneath the light I have shed blood, but I have had no foes Save those the state had ;* if my wrath was deadly, And smote her sons as Brutus smote his own.† *It is well-known that when, on his deathbed, Richelieu was asked if he forgave his enemies, he replied, "I never had any but those of the state." And this was true enough, for Richelieu and the state were one. + Richelieu's vindication of himself from cruelty will be found in various parts of Petitot's Collection, vols. xxi., xxx. (bis.) And seeing daggers in the eyes of men, And wasting powers that shake the thrones of earth And braved by lackeys;* murder at my bed; With the dread three-that are the fates who hold The woof and shears-the monk, the spy, the heads man. And this is power! Alas! I am not happy. And yet the Nile is fretted by the weeds (After a pause. Them who hate me? Tush, tush! I do not hate; Would Fortune serve me if the Heaven were wroth? And my triumphant adamant of soul Is but the fix'd persuasion of success. Ah! here!—that spasm!—again! How life and death Do wrestle for me momently! And yet The king looks pale. I shall outlive the king! And then, thou insolent Austrian, who didst gibe * Voltaire has a striking passage on the singular fate of Richelieu, recalled every hour from his gigantic schemes to frustrate some miserable cabal of the anteroom. Richelieu would often exclaim, that "Six pieds de terre" (as he called the king's cabinet) "lui donnaient plus de peine que tout le reste de l'Europe." The death of Wallenstein, sacrificed by the Emperor Ferdinand, produced a most lively impression upon Richelieu. He found many traits of comparison between Ferdinand and Louis, Wallenstein and himself. In the memoirs-now regarded by the best authorities as written by his sanction, and in great part by himself-the great Frenchman bursts (when alluding to Wallenstein's murder) into a touching and pathetic anathema on the misère de cette vie of dependance on jealous and timid royalty, which he himself, while he wrote, sustained. It is worthy of remark, that it was precisely at the period of Wallenstein's death that Richelieu obtained from the king an augmentation of his guard. Richelieu was commonly supposed, though I cannot say I find |