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The Vicomte De Bragelonne
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The Vicomte De Bragelonne 30 at Prostate Health
whenceI escaped with the daughter of my host on a pillion behindme, still fill the tales of the country firesides, and wouldfurnish matter for ballads. I will some day write all this,sire, for the instruction of my brother kings."I will first tell how, on arriving at the residence of Mr.Norton, I met with a court chaplain, who was looking on at aparty playing at skittles, and an old servant who named me,bursting into tears, and who was as near and as certainlykilling me by his fidelity as another might have been bytreachery. Then I will tell of my terrors -- yes, sire, ofmy terrors -- when, at the house of Colonel Windham, afarrier who came to shoe our horses declared they had beenshod in the north.""How strange!" murmured Louis XIV. "I never heard anythingof all that; I was only told of your embarkation atBrighthelmstone and your landing in Normandy.""Oh!" exclaimed Charles, "if Heaven permits kings to be thusignorant of the histories of each other, how can they renderassistance to their brothers who need it?""But tell me," continued Louis XIV., "how, after being soroughly received in England, you can still hope for anythingfrom that unhappy country and that rebellious people?""Oh, sire! since the battle of Worcester, everything ischanged there. Cromwell is dead, after having signed atreaty with France, in which his name is placed above yours.He died on the 5th of September, 1658, a fresh anniversaryof the battles of Dunbar and Worcester.""His son has succeeded him.""But certain men have a family, sire, and no heir. Theinheritance of Oliver was too heavy for Richard. Richard wasneither a republican nor a royalist; Richard allowed hisguards to eat his dinner, and his generals to govern therepublic; Richard abdicated the protectorate on the 22nd ofApril, 1659, more than a year ago, sire."From that time England is nothing but a tennis-court, inwhich the players throw dice for the crown of my father. Thetwo most eager players are Lambert and Monk. Well, sire, I,in my turn, wish to take part in this game, where the stakesare thrown upon my royal mantle. Sire, it only requires amillion to corrupt one of these players and make an ally ofhim, or two hundred of your gentlemen to drive them out ofmy palace at Whitehall, as Christ drove the money-changersfrom the temple.""You come, then," replied Louis XIV., "to ask me ---- ""For your assistance, that is to say, not only for thatwhich kings owe to each other, but that which simpleChristians owe to each other -- your assistance, sire,either in money or men. Your assistance, sire, and within amonth, whether I oppose Lambert to Monk, or Monk to Lambert,I shall have reconquered my paternal inheritance, withouthaving cost my country a guinea, or my subjects a drop ofblood, for they are now all drunk with revolutions,protectorates, and republics, and ask nothing better than tofall staggering to sleep in the arms of royalty. Yourassistance, sire, and I shall owe you more than I owe myfather, -- my poor father, who bought at so dear a rate theruin of our house! You may judge, sire, whether I amunhappy, whether I am in despair, for I accuse my ownfather!"And the blood mounted to the pale face of Charles II., whoremained for an instant with his head between his hands, andas if blinded by that blood which appeared to revolt againstthe filial blasphemy.The young king was not less affected than his elder brother;he threw himself about in his fauteuil, and could not find asingle word of reply.Charles II., to whom ten years in age gave a superiorstrength to master his emotions, recovered his speech thefirst."Sire," said he, "your reply? I wait for it as a criminalwaits for his sentence. Must I die?""My brother," replied the French prince, "you ask me for amillion -- me, who was never possessed of a quarter of thatsum! I possess nothing. I am no more king of France than youare king of England. I am a name, a cipher dressed infleur-de-lised velvet, -- that is all. I am upon a visiblethrone; that is my only advantage over your majesty. I havenothing -- I can do nothing.""Can it be so?" exclaimed Charles II."My brother," said Louis, sinking his voice, "I haveundergone miseries
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