"Dumas, Alexandre - The Man In The Iron Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dumas Alexandre)

"Cancers?- a fearful, incurable disorder."
"Do not believe that, M. Colbert. The Flemish peasant is something
of a savage; he has not a wife exactly, but a female."
"Well, Madame?"
"Well, M. Colbert, while he is smoking his pipe, the woman works; it
is she who draws the water from the well,- she who loads the mule or
the ass, and even bears herself a portion of the burden. Taking but
little care of herself, she gets knocked about here and there,
sometimes is even beaten. Cancers arise from contusions."
"True, true!" said Colbert.
"The Flemish women do not die the sooner on that account. When
they are great sufferers from this disease, they go in search of
remedies; and the Beguines of Bruges are excellent doctors for every
kind of disease. They have precious waters of one sort or another,-
specifics of various kinds; and they give a bottle and a wax candle to
the sufferer. They derive a profit from the priests, and serve God
by the disposal of their two articles of merchandise. I will take
the Queen some of this holy water, which I will procure from the
Beguines of Bruges; her Majesty will recover, and will burn as many
wax candles as she may think fit. You see, M. Colbert, to prevent my
seeing the Queen is almost as bad as committing the crime of
regicide."
"You are, Madame the Duchess, a woman of great intelligence. You
surprise me; still, I cannot but suppose that this charitable
consideration towards the Queen covers some small personal interest of
your own."
"Have I tried to conceal it, M. Colbert? You spoke, I believe, of
a small personal interest. Understand, then, that it is a great
interest; and I will prove it to you by resuming what I was saying. If
you procure me a personal interview with her Majesty, I will be
satisfied with the three hundred thousand livres I have demanded; if
not, I shall keep my letters, unless, indeed, you give me on the
spot five hundred thousand livres for them."
And rising from her seat with this decisive remark, the old
duchess left M. Colbert in a disagreeable perplexity. To bargain any
further was out of the question; not to purchase would involve
infinite loss. "Madame," he said, "I shall have the pleasure of
handing you over a hundred thousand crowns; but how shall I get the
actual letters?"
"In the simplest manner in the world, my dear M. Colbert,- whom will
you trust?"
The financier began to laugh silently, so that his large eyebrows
went up and down like the wings of a bat upon the deep lines of his
yellow forehead. "No one," he said.
"You surely will make an exception in your own favor, M. Colbert?"
"How is that, Madame?"
"I mean that if you would take the trouble to accompany me to the
place where the letters are, they would be delivered into your own
hands, and you would be able to verify and check them."
"Quite true."