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The Vicomte De Bragelonne 37 at Prostate Health
Governed as she is governed,England is an eternal nest of contention for all Europe.Holland protects Charles II., let Holland do so; they willquarrel, they will fight. They are the only two maritimepowers. Let them destroy each others navies, we canconstruct ours with the wrecks of their vessels; when weshall save our money to buy nails.""Oh, how paltry and mean is all this that you are tellingme, monsieur le cardinal!""Yes, but nevertheless it is true, sire; you must confessthat. Still further. Suppose I admit, for a moment, thepossibility of breaking your word, and evading the treaty --such a thing sometimes happens, but that is when some greatinterest is to be promoted by it, or when the treaty isfound to be too troublesome -- well, you will authorize theengagement asked of you: France -- her banner, which is thesame thing -- will cross the Straits and will fight; Francewill be conquered.""Why so?""Ma foi! we have a pretty general to fight under thisCharles II.! Worcester gave us good proofs of that.""But he will no longer have to deal with Cromwell,monsieur.""But he will have to deal with Monk, who is quite asdangerous. The brave brewer of whom we are speaking was avisionary; he had moments of exaltation, of inflation,during which he ran over like an over-filled cask; and fromthe chinks there always escaped some drops of his thoughts,and by the sample the whole of his thought was to be madeout. Cromwell has thus allowed us more than ten times topenetrate into his very soul, when one would have conceivedthat soul to be enveloped in triple brass, as Horace has it.But Monk! Oh, sire, God defend you from ever having anythingto transact politically with Monk. It is he who has givenme, in one year, all the gray hairs I have. Monk is nofanatic; unfortunately he is a politician; he does notoverflow, he keeps close together. For ten years he has hadhis eyes fixed upon one object, and nobody has yet been ableto ascertain what. Every morning, as Louis XI. advised, heburns his nightcap. Therefore, on the day when this planslowly and solitarily ripened, shall break forth, it willbreak forthwith all the conditions of success which alwaysaccompany an unforeseen event. That is Monk, sire, of whomperhaps, you have never heard -- of whom, perhaps, you didnot even know the name before your brother Charles II., whoknows what he is, pronounced it before you. He is a marvelof depth and tenacity, the two only things against whichintelligence and ardor are blunted. Sire, I had ardor when Iwas young, I always was intelligent. I may safely boast ofit, because I am reproached with it. I have done very wellwith these two qualities, since, from the son of a fishermanof Piscina, I have become prime minister to the king ofFrance; and in that position your majesty will perhapsacknowledge I have rendered some service to the throne ofyour majesty. Well, sire, if I had met with Monk on my way,instead of Monsieur de Beaufort, Monsieur de Retz, orMonsieur le Prince -- well, we should have been ruined. Ifyou engage yourself rashly, sire, you will fall into thetalons of this politic soldier. The casque of Monk, sire, isan iron coffer, in the recesses of which he shuts up histhoughts, and no one has the key of it. Therefore, near him,or rather before him, I bow, sire, for I have nothing but avelvet cap.""What do you think Monk wishes to do, then?""Eh! sire, if I knew that, I would not tell you to mistrusthim, for I should be stronger than he; but with him, I amafraid to guess -- to guess! -- you understand my word? --for if I thought I had guessed, I should stop at an idea,and, in spite of myself, should pursue that idea. Since thatman has been in power yonder, I am like one of the damned inDante whose neck Satan has twisted, and who walk forwardlooking behind them. I am traveling towards Madrid, but Inever lose sight of London. To guess, with that devil of aman, is to deceive ones self, and to deceive ones self isto ruin ones self. God keep me from ever seeking to guesswhat he aims at; I confine myself to watching what
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