Joan of Naples | Page 5

while no movement had disturbed the profound silence
which reigned about the bed of death, the king trembled slightly;
opened his eyes, and endeavoured feebly to raise his head. They
thanking the physician and priest with a smile, who had both hastened
to arrange his pillows, he begged the queen to come near, and told her
in a low voice that he would speak with her a moment alone. The
doctor and confessor retired, deeply bowing, and the king followed
them with his eyes up to the moment when one of the doors closed
behind them. He passed his hand across his brow, as though seeking to
collect his thoughts, and rallying all his forces for the supreme effort,
pronounced these words:
"What I must say to you, Sancha, has no concern with those two good
persons who were here a moment ago: their task is ended. One has
done all for my body that human science could teach him, and all that
has come of it is that my death is yet a little deferred; the other has now
absolved me of all my sins, and assured me of God's forgiveness, yet
cannot keep from me those dread apparitions which in this terrible hour
arise before me. Twice have you seen me battling with a superhuman
horror. My brow has been bathed in sweat, my limbs rigid, my cries
have been stifled by a hand of iron. Has God permitted the Evil Spirit
to tempt me? Is this remorse in phantom shape? These two conflicts I
have suffered have so subdued my strength that I can never endure a
third. Listen then, my Sandra, for I have instructions to give you on
which perhaps the safety of my soul depends."

"My lord and my master," said the queen in the most gentle accents of
submission, "I am ready to listen to your orders; and should it be that
God, in the hidden designs of His providence, has willed to call you to
His glory while we are plunged in grief, your last wishes shall be
fulfilled here on earth most scrupulously and exactly. But," she added,
with all the solicitude of a timid soul, "pray suffer me to sprinkle drops
of holy water and banish the accursed one from this chamber, and let
me offer up some part of that service of prayer that you composed in
honour of your sainted brother to implore God's protection in this hour
when we can ill afford to lose it."
Then opening a richly bound book, she read with fervent devotion
certain verses of the office that Robert had written in a very pure Latin
for his brother Louis, Bishop of Toulouse, which was, in use in the
Church as late as the time of the Council of Trent.
Soothed by the charm of the prayers he had himself composed, the king
was near forgetting the object of the interview he had so solemnly and
eagerly demanded and letting himself lapse into a state of vague
melancholy, he murmured in a subdued voice, "Yes, yes, you are right;
pray for me, for you too are a saint, and I am but a poor sinful man."
"Say not so, my lord," interrupted Dona Sancha; "you are the greatest,
wisest, and most just king who has ever sat upon the throne of Naples."
"But the throne is usurped," replied Robert in a voice of gloom; "you
know that the kingdom belonged to my elder brother, Charles Martel;
and since Charles was on the throne of Hungary, which he inherited
from his mother, the kingdom of Naples devolved by right upon his
eldest son, Carobert, and not on me, who am the third in rank of the
family. And I have suffered myself to be crowned in my nephew's stead,
though he was the only lawful-king; I have put the younger branch in
the place of the elder, and for thirty-three years I have stifled the
reproaches of my conscience. True, I have won battles, made laws,
founded churches; but a single word serves to give the lie to all the
pompous titles showered upon me by the people's admiration, and this
one word rings out clearer in my ears than all the, flattery of courtiers,
all the songs of poets, all the orations of the crowd:--I am an usurper!"

"Be not unjust towards yourself, my lord, and bear in mind that if you
did not abdicate in favour of the rightful heir, it was because you
wished to save the people from the worst misfortunes. Moreover,"
continued the queen, with that air of profound conviction that an
unanswerable argument inspires, "you have remained king by the
consent and authority of our Holy Father the sovereign pontiff, who
disposes of the throne as a fief belonging to