Orrain | Page 3

protector upon whom I could always rely. This,
followed by an unfortunate duel, the circumstances of which will be
detailed later, precipitated matters. The Edict of Fontainebleau served
as a weapon to my enemies, and it was put in force with the utmost
rigour against me. My principal accuser was my unnatural step-brother
the Vidame d'Orrain. He went so far as to charge me with aiding and
harbouring the members of the New Heresy, and the discovery of a
small leaflet printed at Geneva amongst my books was held to be
sufficient proof against me. The affair of the duel I might have lived
through, but this meant death. I took refuge in flight; it was the only
course. I was condemned in my absence by the Chambre Ardente to the
extreme penalty, and what remained of my property was given to
Simon, who shared it with Diane, the mistress of the King.
Thus at five and twenty I found myself an exile, and penniless. One
friend alone remained to me, and this was a young man of Orrain called
Pierrebon, whom I have mentioned before. Through good and ill he

adhered to me with ancient fidelity, and he lives still, honoured and
trusted by all who know him.
Together we sought a refuge in the Low Countries, and there I learned
the first great lesson of my life, and that was to live by honest work.
For five years I labored, until I had amassed sufficient to give me a
small estate of about fifty écus.
During those five years so many things had happened--I myself was so
changed--that I began to think that I and my affairs had been consigned
to oblivion, and that I might safely return to France. One day I was
seized with an uncontrollable desire to see my native land once again. I
determined to do so then and there, and a fortnight later, accompanied
by Pierrebon, I was in Paris.
I had every reason to confirm the opinion I had formed, that I and my
doings had been forgotten. In the humble class to which I now
belonged no one had ever heard of the Chevalier d'Orrain. Here in Paris
I felt I was safe, and I consequently determined to fix my abode in the
great city. I hired an apartment in the Rue des Lavandières, and
established myself there, giving out that I was a fencing-master. No
pupils came; but at any rate there was peace and contentment. I formed
no acquaintances except one, a certain Camus, a glove-maker, who had
an apartment above mine. For some reason or other this man forced
himself upon me, and though at first I repulsed his attentions he would
not be denied, and I grew to tolerate him. He was possessed of
extraordinary learning, and, under the guise of his ostensible calling,
plied another terrible trade--those who know the story of Jeanne of
Navarre will know what I mean.
This I was unaware of at the time; but, despite myself, the man's
conversation interested me, so that I occasionally yielded to his
importunities, and visited him for an hour or so after supper, when we
passed the time in discussion.
In this manner close upon six years elapsed, until I myself had almost
forgotten in the Bourgeois Broussel--the name I assumed--the once
brilliant Chevalier d'Orrain. Pierrebon alone knew my secret, and he

was as silent as the grave. At times the honest fellow would speak
hopefully of a good day to come; but I poured cold water on that, and,
pointing to my lute and my copy of "Plutarch's Lives," was wont to say
that there was enough happiness there for my life without seeking to
reopen the past or delve into the future.
One night--I remember it well; it was the night of Pentecost, in the year
1555--I went up, at Camus' request, to his apartment. I had not seen the
old man for some time, and our talk was longer than usual. By some
chance we began to discuss poisons, and Camus opened the stores of
his curious knowledge. He had studied, he said, with a strange smile,
the works of the Rabbi Moses bin Maimon, and was possessed of
antidotes for each of the sixteen poisons; but there was one venom,
outside the sixteen, the composition of which he knew, but to which
there was no antidote. On my inquiry he stated that this was the poison
used by the Borgia, and it was prepared as follows:
A bear having been caught, it was made to swallow a draught of Acqua
di Borgia. On this beginning to take effect the bear was suspended head
downwards. Whilst the animal was in convulsions there poured from
his mouth a foamy stream. This, collected in a silver