The servant cried out because the upper part of Gaston, Duke of Orleans, was almost drowning in blood and blood clots, his pillows and sheets were full of sticky, fishy, black-red semi-congealed things, and his nose gurgled from a pile of indescribable black pudding-like things, from which the painful gasps had come from, but it was the Duke of Gaston's protruding eyes that made him cry uncontrollably, and they crumbled above their sockets, like long-ripe grapes, ready to fall from the branches at any moment, and such a sight that even the bravest knight could not help but tremble at the sight of it。

This servant was not the personal servant of the Duke of Gaston before, to be precise, since he came to Blois, his personal servant has changed four times in a row, and each of them has either died of a serious illness for some reason, or has encountered various accidents after resigning, and now standing by the Duke's bed is a bold janitor, and since he can get a gold louis every day here, he has come bravely, and has persevered until now, but there is another problem, that is, this kind of person is inevitably dull, for example, he only knows how to stand by the bed and scream after noticing the Duke's strangeness。

Fortunately, the bedroom of the second wife of the Duke of Gaston, Madame Marguerite de Lorraine, whom he loved and borrowed, was separated from the duke's chamber by only a wall, and as soon as she heard the servant shouting, she quickly put on her cloak and rushed into the room, and the whole process did not take more than a minute— Ever since the Duke was seriously ill, the lady had never taken off her cloak when she had fallen asleep, and while she slapped the servant to stop yelling, she told her valet to fetch hot water and cotton cloth, and loudly told the servant, who had been sobered up by her, to wake up the others, the duke's penitent, the priest, the doctor, and her and the duke's three daughters.

After a few minutes, the hot water and the cotton cloth came, and by this time the sheets had been pulled away and thrown away, and the duchess was under the bed, and the duchess twisted the cotton cloth from the copper basin and gently covered the duke's face, and slowly wiped away the dried bloodstains—the black pudding-like blood clots had been washed off with the sheets, and the duke's terrible eyes were closed by the duchess, and a velvet mask was put on him, so that people could not see his present horrible appearance— In addition to the eyes that were about to fall out, there was also a swollen tongue and dense blue spots and blisters all over the cheeks and neck.

In about half an hour, the confessors and priests, the doctors, and the Duke's daughters, the oldest thirteen years old, the youngest ten, and they had an eight-year-old brother and a six-year-old sister, but they died six years ago and two years ago, respectively, and now the Duke has no male heir, only an eighteen-year-old illegitimate son.

One could tell how painful Monsieur Duke was when he heard his breathing—his breathing was irregular, sometimes long, sometimes short, thick like a blacksmith's bellows, light like a butterfly flapping its wings, and his moaning was as slender and desolate as a ghoul coming from the dirt nine feet below, and every one who heard it had a thought in their hearts, that is, let the groaning man die, and let him not continue to suffer such torture.

But in that doctor— The strange guy, who always wore a crow's mouth mask and bent his back, poured the duke a potion like boiling mud, and the duke survived again, he held the duchess's hand, and his thoughts passed from this clenched hand to the duchess's heart, he was indeed tormented, but he did not want to die, at least not now, he had no male heir, and when he died, then the only one who inherited the territory and the title was Philippe, the younger brother of King Louis of France, that is, he not only lost to his enemies, but everything he sought would become a delicacy in the mouths of the enemiesHe couldn't accept the result anyway - but his serious illness was not just a disguise as people speculated, he was indeed sick, almost terminally ill.

Realizing that the Duke might not be able to use them, the Confessor and the Priest withdrew at the Duchess's motion, and as they were about to leave the room, the Confessor saw a set of triptych altarpieces hanging in the Duke's bedchamber - something he saw made him draw a cross on his chest.

The Duchess gazed at the huge woodblock print, from Flanders, by Hieronymus Bosch, with three men as wide as their outstretched arms and as tall as one man, and the eccentric and wicked painter had a sinister imagination in this painting dedicated to the women's convent, though the subject was still a common religious subject.

God gave Eve to Adam, the pleasures of the world and the pain of hell...... But from the Garden of Eden (God and Adam, Eve), there are many strange plants and animals in the picture, such as huge building-like flowers, thorny fruits with cracked tongues, winged fish, three-headed birds, etc., and the mundane is depicted as a large garden, full of young men and women, who are unrestrained, ambiguous, and more mutated and distorted, such as the owl hatched by a pomegranate with many legs, the mermaid with an iron helmet, the woman riding a cat, and even more strangely, the human skin color changes from blue-gray to white, from white to red, and then so black that it is impossible to distinguish the eyebrows, eyes, and limbs, which looks like an upright shadow in the form of a human.

When you get to hell, the painter's imagination is completely freed, here you see animals ruling over humans, there is no fire in hell, there is no magma, there is no pain on the faces of human beings, but they are obviously made into all kinds of furniture and musical instruments, either penetrated, or crushed, or carrying heavy objects, unable to straighten up, the strange thing is that people have to say absurd when they see it, but they can't take their eyes off, when you look at them, it is like you can hear all kinds of sounds coming from the picture, from grunting, Crying to growling, or pleading.

The painting was supposed to be destroyed, but for some unknown reason, the bishop of the women's convent kept it in his collection, and then the Duke of Gaston occasionally heard about it, insisted on visiting it, and bought it for a thousand livres.

"It's an honor for you to be so fond of my work. The doctor laughed when he saw the Duchess once more intent, and his laughter was like that of a frightened cat.

"Mr. Bose," said the Duke of Gaston, who did not uncover his mask, as if he could see through the dark velvet, "how long shall I live?"

"You should have died," said Hieronymus Bosch, a man who should have died a hundred years ago, but who was still able to walk the world as if nothing had happened, smiling, picking something from a sheet that had not yet been thrown away, and holding it up to the candle to show the Duke, "Look, your Excellency, these are your lungs. ”

"Is there no hope?"

"No more. ”

"If I could have another son," whispered the Duke (he didn't have enough strength), "I could still sleep with a woman...... My wives will arrange for me, ten or twenty, and they will always have a son in their wombs, and I will make Margaret recognize him, and he will be my rightful heir......"

"It can't be, Mr. Duke, you're rotting from within, that is, even if you can ...... now Well, get up, your two shriveled eggs won't be able to produce seeds, you're doomed to lose your realm and title, but that's okay, you're dead by then, buried in the ground, and you won't be aware anymore. ”

These words made the duke furious, but all he could do was tear off the mask, even so, he was still tired and panting, the duchess held his head in her arms without disgust, and let him lie on her knees, even though the duke's head was like a rotten plum, but after a moment of excitement, the duke suddenly calmed down again, he reached out and pushed his eyeballs, let them go back a little, although he could barely see what was in front of him now, but as long as he still had his mind working, and he still had a loyal wife and subjects, he would......

"Well," he said calmly, "if I were to be buried alone for me......"

"Who?"

"King Louis XIV of France. ”

This answer silenced Mr. Boss for a moment, and then he asked, "Return?"

"All the money I left behind, and a hundred blank identification papers. ”

"Where's your wife?"

"She has her own dowry. ”

"Where's your daughter?"

"They are both engaged and have their own dowries. "Here the Duke of Gaston makes no mention of his eldest daughter, the Duchess of Montpensier, who, before she returned to the court, had given the Duke of Gaston the impression of an incompetent waste, a traitor, and that she had been an enemy of the Duke of Gaston after she had exchanged the income from her domain for the king's forgiveness for her and not for her father.

He didn't let her die, not out of her father's kindness, but because the Duke now had a very meagre amount of power that needed to be used in the most critical places.

"Your ...... Where's the son?"

"He's the only blood I have, and I'll send him to Spain. ”

"And what about Philip, Duke of Anjou?"

"I will leave a king of the Bourbons for France, and if I make such a request, you will never grant it. ”

"Indeed, Mr. Duke," said Bose, taking off his mask, revealing his crimson eyes and sharp fangs, "but we have promised Prince Theodric of Van Zo that we would never harm anyone in the royal family, so I can only regret to act as an intermediary for you." ”

"My remuneration should be able to impress a lot of people. ”

"Indeed, and that Your Majesty," said Bose, "he has done something lately that is unpleasant to many. ”