BOOK TENTH.
CHAPTER 5. THE RETREAT IN WHICH MONSIEUR LOUIS OF FRANCE SAYS HIS PRAYERS.
(continued)
There was but one entrance, a modern door, with a fiat arch,
garnished with a piece of tapestry on the inside, and on the
outside by one of those porches of Irish wood, frail edifices
of cabinet-work curiously wrought, numbers of which were
still to be seen in old houses a hundred and fifty years
ago. "Although they disfigure and embarrass the places,"
says Sauvel in despair, "our old people are still unwilling
to get rid of them, and keep them in spite of everybody."
In this chamber, nothing was to be found of what furnishes
ordinary apartments, neither benches, nor trestles, nor forms,
nor common stools in the form of a chest, nor fine stools
sustained by pillars and counter-pillars, at four sols a piece.
Only one easy arm-chair, very magnificent, was to be seen; the
wood was painted with roses on a red ground, the seat was of
ruby Cordovan leather, ornamented with long silken fringes,
and studded with a thousand golden nails. The loneliness of
this chair made it apparent that only one person had a right
to sit down in this apartment. Beside the chair, and quite
close to the window, there was a table covered with a cloth
with a pattern of birds. On this table stood an inkhorn
spotted with ink, some parchments, several pens, and a large
goblet of chased silver. A little further on was a brazier,
a praying stool in crimson velvet, relieved with small bosses
of gold. Finally, at the extreme end of the room, a simple
bed of scarlet and yellow damask, without either tinsel or
lace; having only an ordinary fringe. This bed, famous for
having borne the sleep or the sleeplessness of Louis XI., was
still to be seen two hundred years ago, at the house of a
councillor of state, where it was seen by old Madame Pilou,
celebrated in Cyrus under the name "Arricidie" and of "la
Morale Vivante".
Such was the chamber which was called "the retreat where
Monsieur Louis de France says his prayers."
At the moment when we have introduced the reader into it,
this retreat was very dark. The curfew bell had sounded an
hour before; night was come, and there was only one flickering
wax candle set on the table to light five persons variously
grouped in the chamber.
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