summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/files/relative.htm
blob: f88444d28ac243ed6ec7d7e6d9ea53f63f9a23ab (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319
10320
10321
10322
10323
10324
10325
10326
10327
10328
10329
10330
10331
10332
10333
10334
10335
10336
10337
10338
10339
10340
10341
10342
10343
10344
10345
10346
10347
10348
10349
10350
10351
10352
10353
10354
10355
10356
10357
10358
10359
10360
10361
10362
10363
10364
10365
10366
10367
10368
10369
10370
10371
10372
10373
10374
10375
10376
10377
10378
10379
10380
10381
10382
10383
10384
10385
10386
10387
10388
10389
10390
10391
10392
10393
10394
10395
10396
10397
10398
10399
10400
10401
10402
10403
10404
10405
10406
10407
10408
10409
10410
10411
10412
10413
10414
10415
10416
10417
10418
10419
10420
10421
10422
10423
10424
10425
10426
10427
10428
10429
10430
10431
10432
10433
10434
10435
10436
10437
10438
10439
10440
10441
10442
10443
10444
10445
10446
10447
10448
10449
10450
10451
10452
10453
10454
10455
10456
10457
10458
10459
10460
10461
10462
10463
10464
10465
10466
10467
10468
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474
10475
10476
10477
10478
10479
10480
10481
10482
10483
10484
10485
10486
10487
10488
10489
10490
10491
10492
10493
10494
10495
10496
10497
10498
10499
10500
10501
10502
10503
10504
10505
10506
10507
10508
10509
10510
10511

<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?>

<!DOCTYPE html
   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >

<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
  <head>
    <title>
      MEMOIRS OF CARDINAL DE RETZ
    </title>
    <style type="text/css">
    <!--
    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
    .indent5   { margin-left: 5%;}
    .indent10  { margin-left: 10%;}
    .indent15  { margin-left: 15%;}
    .indent20  { margin-left: 20%;}
    .indent30  { margin-left: 30%;}
    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal;
               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
               text-align: right;}
    .side      { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em;
               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left;
               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;}
    p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0}
    span.dropcap         { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 }
    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
    -->
</style>

  </head>
  <body>
    <h2>
      MEMOIRS OF CARDINAL DE RETZ
    </h2>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoirs of Cardinal de Retz, Complete
by Jean Francois Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net


Title: The Memoirs of Cardinal de Retz, Complete

Author: Jean Francois Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz

Release Date: September 29, 2006 [EBook #3846
Last Updated: October 18, 2012

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARDINAL DE RETZ ***




Produced by David Widger





</pre>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      MEMOIRS OF JEAN FRANCOIS PAUL de GONDI, <br />CARDINAL DE RETZ
    </h2>
    <h2>
      Written by Himself
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      Being Historic Court Memoirs of the Great Events <br />during the Minority
      of Louis XIV. <br />and the Administration of Cardinal Mazarin.
    </h3>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="cover.jpg (125K)" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="titlepage.jpg (73K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      CONTENTS
    </h2>
    <table summary="">
      <tr>
        <td>
          <a href="#book1">BOOK&nbsp;&nbsp;I.</a><br /><br /> <a href="#book2">BOOK&nbsp;&nbsp;II.</a><br /><br />
          <a href="#book3">BOOK&nbsp;&nbsp;III.</a><br /><br /> <a href="#book4">BOOK&nbsp;&nbsp;IV.</a><br /><br />
          <a href="#book5">BOOK&nbsp;&nbsp;V.</a><br /><br />
        </td>
      </tr>
    </table>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      ILLUSTRATIONS
    </h2>
    <table summary="">
      <tr>
        <td>
          <a href="#retz">Cardinal de Retz</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Photogravure from
          an Old Painting</i> <br /><br /> <a href="#p060j">Turenne</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Photogravure
          from an Old Painting</i> <br /><br /> <a href="#p100j">Richelieu</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Engraving
          by Lubin</i> <br /><br /> <a href="#p160j">Anne of Austria</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Original
          Etching by Mercier</i> <br /><br /> <a href="#p242j">Louis XIII</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Painting
          in the Louvre</i> <br /><br /> <a href="#p346j">Conde'</a>&mdash;&mdash;<i>Painting
          in Versailles Gallery</i>
        </td>
      </tr>
    </table>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      ORIGINAL PREFACE.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Our Author, John Francis Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz, Sovereign of
      Commercy, Prince of Euville, second Archbishop of Paris, Abbot of Saint
      Denis in France, was born at Montmirail, in Brie, in October, 1614.
    </p>
    <p>
      His father was Philippe Emanuel de Gondi, Comte, de Joigni, General of the
      Galleys of France and Knight of the King's Orders; and his mother was
      Frances Marguerite, daughter of the Comte de Rochepot, Knight of the
      King's Orders, and of Marie de Lannoy, sovereign of Commercy and Euville.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pierre de Gondi, Duc de Retz, was his brother, whose daughter was the
      Duchesse de Lesdiguieres.
    </p>
    <p>
      His grandfather was Albert de Gondi, Duc de Retz, Marquis de Belle Isle, a
      Peer of France, Marshal and General of the Galleys, Colonel of the French
      Horse, First Gentleman of the Bedchamber, and Great Chamberlain to the
      Kings Charles IX. and Henri III.
    </p>
    <p>
      This history was first printed in Paris in 1705, at the expense of the
      Duchesse de Lesdiguieres, the last of this noble family, whose estate fell
      after her decease to that of Villeroy.
    </p>
    <p>
      His preceptor was the famous Vincent de Paul, Almoner to Queen Anne of
      Austria.
    </p>
    <p>
      In 1627 he was made a Canon of the Cathedral of Paris by his uncle, Jean
      Francois de Gondi, first archbishop of that city, and was not long after
      created a Doctor of the Sorbonne.
    </p>
    <p>
      In 1643 he was appointed Coadjutor of the archbishopric of Paris, with the
      title of Archbishop of Corinth, during which, such was his pastoral
      vigilance that the most important affairs of the Church were committed to
      his care.
    </p>
    <p>
      As to his general character, if we take it from his own Memoirs, he had
      such presence of mind, and so dexterously improved all opportunities which
      fortune presented to him, that it seemed as if he had foreseen or desired
      them. He knew how to put a good gloss upon his failings, and oftentimes
      verily believed he was really the man which he affected to be only in
      appearance. He was a man of bright parts, but no conduct, being violent
      and inconstant in his intrigues of love as well as those of politics, and
      so indiscreet as to boast of his successful amours with certain ladies
      whom he ought not to have named. He affected pomp and splendour, though
      his profession demanded simplicity and humility. He was continually
      shifting parties, being a loyal subject one day and the next a rebel, one
      time a sworn enemy to the Prime Minister, and by and by his zealous
      friend; always aiming to make himself formidable or necessary. As a pastor
      he had engrossed the love and confidence of the people, and as a statesman
      he artfully played them off against their sovereign. He studied characters
      thoroughly, and no man painted them in truer colours more to his own
      purpose. Sometimes he confesses his weaknesses, and at other times betrays
      his self-flattery.
    </p>
    <p>
      It being his fate to be imprisoned by Mazarin, first at Vincennes and then
      at Nantes, he made his escape to Rome, and in 1656 retired to Franche
      Comte, where Cardinal Mazarin gave orders for his being arrested; upon
      which he posted to Switzerland, and thence to Constance, Strasburg, Ulm,
      Augsburg, Frankfort, and Cologne, to which latter place Mazarin sent men
      to take him dead or alive; whereupon he retired to Holland, and made a
      trip from one town to another till 1661, when, Cardinal Mazarin dying, our
      Cardinal went as far as Valenciennes on his way to Paris, but was not
      suffered to come further; for the King and Queen-mother would not be
      satisfied without his resignation of the archbishopric of Paris, to which
      he at last submitted upon advantageous terms for himself and an amnesty
      for all his adherents. But still the Court carried it so severely to the
      Cardinal that they would not let him go and pay his last devoirs to his
      father when on his dying bed. At length, however, after abundance of
      solicitation, he had leave to go and wait upon the King and Queen, who, on
      the death of Pope Alexander VII., sent him to Rome to assist at the
      election of his successor.
    </p>
    <p>
      No wonder that King Charles II. of England promised to intercede for the
      Cardinal's reestablishment; for when the royal family were starving, as it
      were, in their exile at Paris, De Retz did more for them than all the
      French Court put together; and, upon the King's promise to take the Roman
      Catholics of England under his protection after his restoration, he sent
      an abbot to Rome to solicit the Pope to lend him money, and to dispose the
      English Catholics in his favour.
    </p>
    <p>
      He would fain have returned his hat to the new Pope, but his Holiness, at
      the solicitation of Louis XIV., ordered him to keep it. After this he
      chose a total retirement, lived with exemplary piety, considerably
      retrenched his expenses, and hardly allowed himself common necessaries, in
      order to save money to pay off a debt of three millions, which he had the
      happiness to discharge, and to balance all accounts with the world before
      his death, which happened at Paris on the 24th of August, 1679, in the
      65th year of his age.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="retz" id="retz"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="retz.jpg (112K)" src="images/retz.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="book1" id="book1"></a>
    </p>
    <h1>
      HISTORIC COURT MEMOIRS.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      CARDINAL DE RETZ.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      BOOK I.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      MADAME:&mdash;Though I have a natural aversion to give you the history of
      my own life, which has been chequered with such a variety of different
      adventures, yet I had rather sacrifice my reputation to the commands of a
      lady for whom I have so peculiar a regard than not disclose the most
      secret springs of my actions and the inmost recesses of my soul.
    </p>
    <p>
      By the caprice of fortune many mistakes of mine have turned to my credit,
      and I very much doubt whether it would be prudent in me to remove the veil
      with which some of them are covered. But as I am resolved to give you a
      naked, impartial account of even the most minute passages of my life ever
      since I have been capable of reflection, so I most humbly beg you not to
      be surprised at the little art, or, rather, great disorder, with which I
      write my narrative, but to consider that, though the diversity of
      incidents may sometimes break the thread of the history, yet I will tell
      you nothing but with all that sincerity which the regard I have for you
      demands. And to convince you further that I will neither add to nor
      diminish from the plain truth, I shall set my name in the front of the
      work.
    </p>
    <p>
      False glory and false modesty are the two rocks on which men who have
      written their own lives have generally split, but which Thuanus among the
      moderns and Caesar among the ancients happily escaped. I doubt not you
      will do me the justice to believe that I do not pretend to compare myself
      with those great writers in any respect but sincerity,&mdash;a virtue in
      which we are not only permitted, but commanded, to rival the greatest
      heroes.
    </p>
    <p>
      I am descended from a family illustrious in France and ancient in Italy,
      and born upon a day remarkable for the taking of a monstrous sturgeon in a
      small river that runs through the country of Montmirail, in Brie, the
      place of my nativity.
    </p>
    <p>
      I am not so vain as to be proud of having it thought that I was ushered
      into the world with a prodigy or a miracle, and I should never have
      mentioned this trifling circumstance had it not been for some libels since
      published by my enemies, wherein they affect to make the said sturgeon a
      presage of the future commotions in this kingdom, and me the chief author
      of them.
    </p>
    <p>
      I beg leave to make a short reflection on the nature of the mind of man. I
      believe there never was a more honest soul in the world than my father's;
      I might say his temper was the very essence of virtue. For though he saw I
      was too much inclined to duels and gallantry ever to make a figure as an
      ecclesiastic, yet his great love for his eldest son&mdash;not the view of
      the archbishopric of Paris, which was then in his family&mdash;made him
      resolve to devote me to the service of the Church. For he was so conscious
      of his reasons, that I could even swear he would have protested from the
      very bottom of his heart that he had no other motive than the apprehension
      of the dangers to which a contrary profession might expose my soul. So
      true it is that nothing is so subject to delusion as piety: all sorts of
      errors creep in and hide themselves under that veil; it gives a sanction
      to all the turns of imagination, and the honesty of the intention is not
      sufficient to guard against it. In a word, after all I have told you, I
      turned priest, though it would have been long enough first had it not been
      for the following accident.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc de Retz, head of our family, broke at that time, by the King's
      order, the marriage treaty concluded some years before between the Duc de
      Mercoeur&mdash;[Louis, Duc de Mercoeur, since Cardinal de Vendome, father
      of the Duc de Vendome, and Grand Prior, died 1669.]&mdash;and his
      daughter, and next day came to my father and agreeably surprised him by
      telling him he was resolved to give her to his cousin to reunite the
      family.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I knew she had a sister worth above 80,000 livres a year, I, that very
      instant, thought of a double match. I had no hopes they would think of me,
      knowing how things stood, so I was resolved to provide for myself.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having got a hint that my father did not intend to carry me to the
      wedding, as, foreseeing, it may be, what happened, I pretended to be
      better pleased with my profession, to be touched by what my father had so
      often laid before me on that subject, and I acted my part so well that
      they believed I was quite another man.
    </p>
    <p>
      My father resolved to carry me into Brittany, for the reason that I had
      shown no inclination that way. We found Mademoiselle de Retz at Beaupreau,
      in Anjou. I looked on the eldest only as my sister, but immediately
      considered Mademoiselle de Scepaux (so the youngest was called) as my
      mistress.
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought her very handsome, her complexion the most charming in the
      world, lilies and roses in abundance, admirable eyes, a very pretty mouth,
      and what she wanted in stature was abundantly made up by the prospect of
      80,000 livres a year and of the Duchy of Beaupreau, and by a thousand
      chimeras which I formed on these real foundations.
    </p>
    <p>
      I played my game nicely from the beginning, and acted the ecclesiastic and
      the devotee both in the journey and during my stay there; nevertheless, I
      paid my sighs to the fair one,&mdash;she perceived it. I spoke at last,
      and she heard me, but not with that complacency which I could have wished.
    </p>
    <p>
      But observing she had a great kindness for an old chambermaid, sister to
      one of my monks of Buzai, I did all I could to gain her, and by the means
      of a hundred pistoles down, and vast promises, I succeeded. She made her
      mistress believe that she was designed for a nunnery, and I, for my part,
      told her that I was doomed to nothing less than a monastery. She could not
      endure her sister, because she was her father's darling, and I was not
      overfond of my brother,&mdash;[Pierre de Gondi, Duc de Retz, who died in
      1676.]&mdash;for the same reason. This resemblance in our fortunes
      contributed much to the uniting of our affections, which I persuaded
      myself were reciprocal, and I resolved to carry her to Holland.
    </p>
    <p>
      Indeed, there was nothing more easy, for Machecoul, whither we were come
      from Beaupreau, was no more than half a league from the sea. But money was
      the only thing wanting, for my treasury, was so drained by the gift of the
      hundred pistoles above mentioned that I had not a sou left. But I found a
      supply by telling my father that, as the farming of my abbeys was taxed
      with the utmost rigour of the law, so I thought myself obliged in
      conscience to take the administration of them into my own hands. This
      proposal, though not pleasing, could not be rejected, both because it was
      regular and because it made him in some measure believe that I would not
      fail to keep my benefices, since I was willing to take care of them. I
      went the next day to let Buzai,&mdash;[One of his abbeys.]&mdash;which is
      but five leagues from Machecoul. I treated with a Nantes merchant, whose
      name was Jucatieres, who took advantage of my eagerness, and for 4,000
      crowns ready money got a bargain that made his fortune. I thought I had
      4,000,000, and was just securing one of the Dutch pinks, which are always
      in the road of Retz, when the following accident happened, which broke all
      my measures.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mademoiselle de Retz (for she had taken that name after her sister's
      marriage) had the finest eyes in the world, and they never were so
      beautiful as when she was languishing in love, the charms of which I never
      yet saw equalled. We happened to dine at a lady's house, a league from
      Machecoul, where Mademoiselle de Retz, looking in the glass at an assembly
      of ladies, displayed all those tender, lively, moving airs which the
      Italians call 'morbidezza', or the lover's languish. But unfortunately she
      was not aware that Palluau, since Marechal de Clerambaut, was behind her,
      who observed her airs, and being very much attached to Madame de Retz,
      with whom he had in her tender years been very familiar, told her
      faithfully what he had observed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Retz, who mortally hated her sister, disclosed it that very
      night to her father, who did not fail to impart it to mine. The next
      morning, at the arrival of the post from Paris, all was in a hurry, my
      father pretending to have received very pressing news; and, after our
      taking a slight though public leave of the ladies, my father carried me to
      sleep that night at Nantes. I was, as you may imagine, under very great
      surprise and concern; for I could not guess the cause of this sudden
      departure. I had nothing to reproach myself with upon the score of my
      conduct; neither had I the least suspicion that Palluau had seen anything
      more than ordinary till I arrived at Orleans, where the matter was cleared
      up, for my brother, to prevent my escape, which I vainly attempted several
      times on my journey, seized my strong box, in which was my money, and then
      I understood that I was betrayed; in what grief, then, I arrived at Paris,
      I leave you to imagine.
    </p>
    <p>
      I found there Equilli, Vasse's uncle, and my first cousin, who, I daresay,
      was one of the most honest men of his time, and loved me from his very
      soul. I apprised him of my design to run away with Mademoiselle de Retz.
      He heartily approved of my project, not only because it would be a very
      advantageous match for me, but because he was persuaded that a double
      alliance was necessary to secure the establishment of the family.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal de Richelieu&mdash;[Armand Jean du Plesais, Cardinal de
      Richelieu, was born in 1585, and died in 1642.]&mdash;(then Prime
      Minister) mortally hated the Princesse de Guemenee, because he was
      persuaded she had crossed his amours with the Queen,&mdash;[Anne of
      Austria, eldest daughter of Philip II., King of Spain, and wife of Louis
      XIII., died 1666.]&mdash;and had a hand in the trick played him by Madame
      du Fargis, one of the Queen's dressing women, who showed her Majesty
      (Marie de Medicis) a love-letter written by his Eminence to the Queen, her
      daughter-in-law. The Cardinal pushed his resentment so far that he
      attempted to force the Marechal de Breze, his brother-in-law, and captain
      of the King's Life-guards, to expose Madame de Guemenee's letters, which
      were found in M. de Montmorency's&mdash;[Henri de Montmorency was
      apprehended on the 1st of September, 1632, and beheaded in Toulouse in
      November of the same year.]&mdash;coffer when he was arrested at Chateau
      Naudari. But the Marechal de Breze had so much honour and generosity as to
      return them to Madame de Guemenee. He was, nevertheless, a very
      extravagant gentleman; but the Cardinal de Richelieu, perceiving he had
      been formerly honoured by some kind of relation to him, and dreading his
      angry excursions and preachments before the King, who had some
      consideration for his person, bore with him very patiently for the sake of
      settling peace in his own family, which he passionately longed to unite
      and establish, but which was the only thing out of his power, who could do
      whatever else he pleased in France. For the Marechal de Breze had
      conceived so strong an aversion to M. de La Meilleraye, who was then Grand
      Master of the Artillery, and afterwards Marechal de La Meilleraye, that he
      could not endure him. He did not imagine that the Cardinal would ever look
      upon a man who, though his first cousin, was of a mean extraction, had a
      most contemptible aspect, and, if fame says true, not one extraordinary
      good quality.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal was of another mind, and had a great opinion&mdash;indeed,
      with abundance of reason&mdash;of M. de La Meilleraye's courage; but he
      esteemed his military capacity infinitely too much, though in truth it was
      not contemptible. In a word, he designed him for that post which we have
      since seen so gloriously filled by M. de Turenne.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may, by what has been said, judge of the divisions that were in
      Cardinal de Richelieu's family, and how much he was concerned to appease
      them. He laboured at them with great application, and for this end thought
      he could not do better than to unite these two heads of the faction in a
      close confidence with himself, exclusive of all others. To this end he
      used them jointly and in common as the confidants of his amours, which
      certainly were neither suitable to the lustre of his actions nor the
      grandeur of his life; for Marion de Lorme, one of his mistresses, was
      little better than a common prostitute. Another of his concubines was
      Madame de Fruges, that old gentlewoman who was so often seen sauntering in
      the enclosure. The first used to come to his apartment in the daytime, and
      he went by night to visit the other, who was but the pitiful cast-off of
      Buckingham and Epienne. The two confidants introduced him there in
      coloured clothes; for they had made up a hasty peace, to which Madame de
      Guemenee nearly fell a sacrifice.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de La Meilleraye, whom they called the Grand Master, was in love with
      Madame de Guemenee, but she could not love him; and he being, both in his
      own nature and by reason of his great favour with the Cardinal, the most
      imperious man living, took it very ill that he was not beloved. He
      complained, but the lady was insensible; he huffed and bounced, but was
      laughed to scorn. He thought he had her in his power because the Cardinal,
      to whom he had declared his rage against her, had given him her letters,
      as above mentioned, which were written to M. de Montmorency, and,
      therefore, in his menaces he let fall some hints with relation to those
      letters to the disadvantage of Madame de Guemenee. She thereupon ridiculed
      him no longer, but went almost raving mad, and fell into such an
      inconceivable melancholy that you would not have known her, and retired to
      Couperai, where she would let nobody see her.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as I applied my mind to study I resolved at the same time to take
      the Cardinal de Richelieu for my pattern, though my friends opposed it as
      too pedantic; but I followed my first designs, and began my course with
      good success. I was afterwards followed by all persons of quality of the
      same profession; but, as I was the first, the Cardinal was pleased with my
      fancy, which, together with the good offices done me by the Grand Master
      with the Cardinal, made him speak well of me on several occasions, wonder
      that I had never made my court to him, and at the same time he ordered M.
      de Lingendes, since Bishop of Magon, to bring me to his house.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was the source of my first disgrace, for, instead of complying with
      these offers of the Cardinal and with the entreaties of the Grand Master,
      urging me to go and make my court to him, I returned the most trifling
      excuses and apologies; one time I pretended to be sick and went into the
      country. In short, I did enough to let them see that I did not care to be
      a dependent on the Cardinal de Richelieu, who was certainly a very great
      man, but had this particular trait in his genius,&mdash;to take notice of
      trifles. Of this he gave me the following instance: The history of the
      conspiracy of Jean Louis de Fiesque,&mdash;[Author of "The Conspiracy of
      Genoa." He was drowned on the 1st of January, 1557.]&mdash;which I had
      written at eighteen years of age, being conveyed by Boisrobert into the
      Cardinal's hands, he was heard to say, in the presence of Marechal
      d'Estrees and M. de Senneterre, "This is a dangerous genius." This was
      told my father that very night by M. de Senneterre, and I took it as
      spoken to myself.
    </p>
    <p>
      The success that I had in the acts of the Sorbonne made me fond of that
      sort of reputation, which I had a mind to push further, and thought I
      might succeed in sermons. Instead of preaching first, as I was advised, in
      the little convents, I preached on Ascension, Corpus Christi Day, etc.,
      before the Queen and the whole Court, which assurance gained me a good
      character from the Cardinal; for, when he was told how well I had
      performed, he said, "There is no judging of things by the event; the man
      is a coxcomb." Thus you see I had enough to do for one of two-and-twenty
      years of age.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. le Comte,&mdash;[Louis de Bourbon, Comte de soissons, killed in the
      battle of Marfee, near Sedan, in 1641.]&mdash;who had a tender love for
      me, and to whose service and person I was entirely devoted, left Paris in
      the night, in order to get into Sedan, for fear of an arrest; and, in the
      meantime, entrusted me with the care of Vanbrock, the greatest confidant
      he had in the world. I took care, as I was ordered, that he should never
      stir out but at night, for in the daytime I concealed him in a private
      place, between the ceiling and the penthouse, where I thought it
      impossible for anything but a cat or the devil to find him. But he was not
      careful enough of himself, for one morning my door was burst open, and
      armed men rushed into my chamber, with the provost at their head, who
      cried, with a great oath, "Where is Vanbrock?" I replied, "At Sedan,
      monsieur, I believe." He swore again most confoundedly, and searched the
      mattresses of all the beds in the house, threatening to put my domestics
      to the rack if they did not make a disclosure; but there was only one that
      knew anything of the matter, and so they went away in a rage. You may
      easily imagine that when this was reported the Court would highly resent
      it. And so it happened, for the license of the Sorbonne being expired, and
      the competitors striving for the best places, I had the ambition to put in
      for the first place, and did not think myself obliged to yield to the Abbe
      de La Mothe-Houdancourt, now Archbishop of Auch, over whom I had certainly
      some advantage in the disputations. I carried myself in this affair more
      wisely than might have been expected from my youth; for as soon as I heard
      that my rival was supported by the Cardinal, who did him the honour to own
      him for his kinsman, I sent the Cardinal word, by M. de Raconis, Bishop of
      Lavaur, that I desisted from my pretension, out of the respect I owed his
      Eminence, as soon as I heard that he concerned himself in the affair. The
      Bishop of Lavaur told me the Cardinal pretended that the Abby de La Mothe
      would not be obliged for the first place to my cession, but to his own
      merit. This answer exasperated me. I gave a smile and a low bow, pursued
      my point, and gained the first place by eighty-four voices. The Cardinal,
      who was for domineering in all places and in all affairs, fell into a
      passion much below his character, either as a minister or a man,
      threatened the deputies of the Sorbonne to raze the new buildings he had
      begun there, and assailed my character again with incredible bitterness.
    </p>
    <p>
      All my friends were alarmed at this, and were for sending me in all haste
      to Italy. Accordingly, I went to Venice, stayed there till the middle of
      August, and was very near being assassinated; for I amused myself by
      making an intrigue with Signora Vendranina, a noble Venetian lady, and one
      of the most handsome I ever saw. M. de Maille, the King's ambassador,
      aware of the dangerous consequences of such adventures in this country,
      ordered me to depart from Venice; upon which I went through Lombardy, and
      towards the end of September arrived at Rome, where the Marechal
      d'Estrees, who resided there as ambassador, gave me such instructions for
      my behaviour as I followed to a tittle. Though I had no design to be an
      ecclesiastic, yet since I wore a cassock I was resolved to acquire some
      reputation at the Pope's Court. I compassed my design very happily,
      avoiding any appearance of gallantry and lewdness, and my dress being
      grave to the last degree; but for all this I was at a vast expense, having
      fine liveries, a very splendid equipage, and a train of seven or eight
      gentlemen, whereof four were Knights of Malta. I disputed in the Colleges
      of Sapienza (not to be compared for learning with those of the Sorbonne),
      and fortune continued still to raise me. For the Prince de Schomberg, the
      Emperor's ambassador, sent me word one day, while I was playing at 'balon'
      at the baths of Antoninus, to leave the place clear for him. I answered
      that I could have refused his Excellency nothing asked in a civil manner,
      but since it was commanded, I would have him to know that I would obey the
      orders of no ambassador whatever, but that of the King, my master. Being
      urged a second time by one of his attendants to leave the place, I stood
      upon my own defence, and the Germans, more, in my opinion, out of contempt
      of the few people I had with me than out of any other consideration, let
      the affair drop. This bold carriage of so modest an abbe, to an ambassador
      who never went abroad without one hundred musketeers on horseback to
      attend him, made a great noise in Rome, and was much taken notice of by
      Cardinal Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal de Richelieu's health declining, the archbishopric of Paris
      was now almost within my ken, which, together with other prospects of good
      benefices, made me resolve not to fling off the cassock but upon
      honourable terms and valuable considerations; but having nothing yet
      within my view that I could be sure of, I resolved to distinguish myself
      in my own profession by all the methods I could. I retired from the world,
      studied very hard, saw but very few men, and had no more correspondence
      with any of the female sex, except Madame de &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-.
    </p>
    <p>
      The devil had appeared to the Princesse de Guemenee just a fortnight
      before this adventure happened, and was often raised by the conjurations
      of M. d'Andilly, to frighten his votary, I believe, into piety, for he was
      even more in love with her person than I myself; but he loved her in the
      Lord, purely and spiritually. I raised, in my turn, a demon that appeared
      to her in a more kind and agreeable form. In six weeks I got her away from
      Port Royal; I was very diligent in paying her my respects, and the
      satisfaction I had in her company, with some other agreeable diversions,
      qualified in a great measure the chagrin which attended my profession, to
      which I was not yet heartily reconciled. This enchantment had like to have
      raised such a storm as would have given a new face to the affairs of
      Europe if fortune had been ever so little on my side.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. the Cardinal de Richelieu loved rallying other people, but could not
      bear a jest himself, and all men of this humour are always very crabbed
      and churlish; of which the Cardinal gave an instance, in a public assembly
      of ladies, to Madame de Guemenee, when he threw out a severe jest, which
      everybody observed was pointed at me. She was sensibly affronted, but I
      was enraged. For at last there was a sort of an understanding between us,
      which was often ill-managed, yet our interests were inseparable. At this
      time Madame de La Meilleraye, with whom, though she was silly, I had
      fallen in love, pleased the Cardinal to that degree that the Marshal
      perceived it before he set out for the army, and rallied his wife in such
      a manner that she immediately found he was even more jealous than
      ambitious. She was terribly afraid of him, and did not love the Cardinal,
      who, by marrying her to his cousin, had lessened his own family, of which
      he was extremely fond. Besides, the Cardinal's infirmities made him look a
      great deal older than he was. And though all his other actions had no
      tincture of pedantry, yet in his amorous intrigues he had the most of it
      in the world. I had a detail of all the steps he had made therein, which
      were extremely ridiculous. But continuing his solicitation, and carrying
      her to his country seat at Ruel,&mdash;[The Cardinal de Richelieu's seat,
      three leagues from Paris.]&mdash;where he kept her a considerable time, I
      guessed that the lady had not brains enough to resist the splendour of
      Court favour, and that her husband's jealousy would soon give way to his
      interest, but, above all, to his blind side, which was an attachment to
      the Court not to be equalled. When I was in the hottest pursuit of this
      passion I proposed to myself the most exquisite pleasures in triumphing
      over the Cardinal de Richelieu in this fair field of battle; but on a
      sudden I had the mortification to hear the whole family was changed. The
      husband allowed his wife to go to Ruel as often as she pleased, and her
      behaviour towards me I suspected to be false and treacherous. In short,
      Madame de Guemenee's anger, for a reason I hinted before, my jealousy of
      Madame de La Meilleraye, and an aversion to my own profession, all joined
      together in a fatal moment and were near producing one of the greatest and
      most famous events of our age.
    </p>
    <p>
      La Rochepot, my first cousin and dear friend, was a domestic of the late
      Duc d'Orleans,&mdash;[Gaston Jean Baptists de France, born 1608, and died
      at Blois, 1660.]&mdash;and his great confidant. He mortally hated the
      Cardinal de Richelieu, who had persecuted his mother, and had her hung up
      in effigy, and kept his father still a prisoner in the Bastille, and now
      refused the son a regiment, though Marechal de La Meilleraye, who very
      highly esteemed him for his courage, interceded for the favour. You may
      imagine that when we came together we did not forget the Cardinal.
    </p>
    <p>
      I being crossed in my designs, as I told you, and as full of resentment as
      La Rochepot was for the affronts put upon his person and family, we chimed
      in our thoughts and resolutions, which were, dexterously to manage the
      weakness of the Duc d'Orleans and to put that in execution which the
      boldness of his domestics had almost effected at Corbie.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans was appointed General, and the Comte de Soissons
      Lieutenant-General of the King's forces in Picardy, but neither of them
      stood well with the Cardinal, who gave them those posts only because the
      situation of affairs was such that he could not help it. L'Epinai,
      Montresor, and La Rochepot made use of all the arguments they could think
      of to raise jealousies and fears in the Duc d'Orleans, and to inspire him
      with resolution and courage to rid himself of the Cardinal. Others
      laboured to persuade the Comte de Soissons to relish the same proposal,
      but though resolved upon, it was never put into execution. For they had
      the Cardinal in their power at Amiens, but did him no harm. For this every
      one blamed the Count's companion, but I could never yet learn the true
      cause; only this is certain, that they were no sooner come to Paris than
      they were all seized with a panic, and retired, some one way, some
      another.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Comte de Guiche, since Marechal de Grammont, and M. de Chavigni,
      Secretary of State and the Cardinal's most intimate favourite, were sent
      by the King to Blois. Here they frightened the Duc d'Orleans and made him
      return to Paris, where he was more afraid than ever; for such of his
      domestics as were not gained by the Court made use of his pusillanimous
      temper, and represented to him the necessity he was under to provide for
      his own, or rather their, security. La Rochepot and myself endeavoured to
      heighten his fears as much as possible, in order to precipitate him into
      our measures. The term sounds odd, but it is the most expressive I could
      find of a character like the Duke's. He weighed everything, but fixed on
      nothing; and if by chance he was inclined to do one thing more than
      another, he would never execute it without being pushed or forced into it.
    </p>
    <p>
      La Rochepot did all he could to fix him, but finding that the Duke was
      always for delays, and for perplexing all expedients with groundless fears
      of invincible difficulties, he fell upon an expedient very dangerous to
      all appearance, but, as it usually happens in extraordinary cases, much
      less so than at first view.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal de Richelieu having to stand godfather at the baptism of
      Mademoiselle, La Rochepot's proposal was to continue to show the Duke the
      necessity he lay under still to get rid of the Cardinal, without saying
      much of the particulars, for fear of hazarding the secret, but only to
      entertain him with the general proposal of that affair, thereby to make
      him the better in love with the measures when proposed; and that they
      might, at a proper time and place, tell him they had concealed the detail
      to the execution from his Highness upon no other account but that they had
      experienced on several occasions that there was no other way of serving
      his Highness, as he himself had told La Rochepot several times; that
      nothing, therefore, remained but to get some brave fellows fit for such a
      resolute enterprise, and to hold post-horses ready upon the road of Sedan
      under some other pretext, and to so execute the design in the presence and
      in the name of his Royal Highness upon the day of the intended solemnity,
      that his Highness should cheerfully own it when it was done, and that then
      we would carry him off by those horses to Sedan. Meanwhile the distraction
      of the inferior ministers and the joy of the King to see himself delivered
      from a tyrant would dispose the Court rather to invite than to pursue him.
      This was La Rochepot's scheme, and it seemed exceedingly plausible.
    </p>
    <p>
      La Rochepot and I had, it may be, blamed the inactivity of the Duc
      d'Orleans and the Comte de Soissons in the affair of Amiens a hundred
      times; yet, no sooner was the scheme sufficiently matured for execution,
      the idea of which I had raised in the memory of La Rochepot, than my mind
      was seized with I know not what fear; I took it then for a scruple of
      conscience,&mdash;I cannot tell whether it was in truth so or not, but, in
      short, the thought of killing a priest and a cardinal deeply affected my
      mind. La Rochepot laughed at my scruples, and bantered me thus: "When you
      are in the field of battle I warrant you will not beat up the enemy's
      quarters for fear of assassinating men in their sleep." I was ashamed of
      my scruples, and again hugged the crime, which I looked upon as sanctified
      by the examples of great men, and justified and honoured by the mighty
      danger that attended its execution. We renewed our consultations, engaged
      some accomplices, took all the necessary precautions, and resolved upon
      the execution. The danger was indeed very great, but we might reasonably
      hope to come off well enough; for the Duke's guard, which was within,
      would not have failed to come to our assistance against that of the
      Cardinal's, which was without. But his fortune, and not his guards,
      delivered him from the snare; for either Mademoiselle or himself, I forget
      which, fell suddenly ill, and the ceremony was put off to another time, so
      that we lost our opportunity. The Duke returned to Blois, and the Marquis
      de Boissi protested he would never betray us, but that he would be no
      longer concerned, because he had just received some favour or other from
      the Cardinal's own hands.
    </p>
    <p>
      I confess that this enterprise, which, had it succeeded, would have
      crowned us with glory, never fully pleased me. I was not so scrupulous in
      the committing of two other transgressions against the rules of morality,
      as you may have before observed; but I wish, with all my heart, I had
      never been concerned in this. Ancient Rome, indeed, would have counted it
      honourable; but it is not in this respect that I honour the memory of old
      Rome.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is commonly a great deal of folly in conspiracies; but afterwards
      there is nothing tends so, much to make men wise, at least for some time.
      For, as the danger in things of this nature continues, even after the
      opportunities for doing them are over, men are from that instant more
      prudent and circumspect.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having thus missed our blow, the Comte de La Rochepot and the rest of them
      retired to their several seats in the country; but my engagements detained
      me at Paris, where I was so retired that I spent all my time in my study;
      and if ever I was seen abroad, it was with all the reserve of a pious
      ecclesiastic; we were all so true to one another in keeping this adventure
      secret, that it never got the least wind while the Cardinal lived, who was
      a minister that had the best intelligence in the world; but after his
      death it was discovered by the imprudence of Tret and Etourville. I call
      it imprudence, for what greater weakness can men be guilty of than to
      declare themselves to have been capable of what is dangerous in the first
      instance?
    </p>
    <p>
      To return to the history of the Comte de Soissons, I observed before that
      he had retired to Sedan for safety, which he could not expect at Court. He
      wrote to the King, assuring his Majesty of his fidelity, and that while he
      stayed in that place he would undertake nothing prejudicial to his
      service. He was most mindful of his promise; was not to be biassed by all
      the offers of Spain or the Empire, but rejected with indignation the
      overtures of Saint-Ibal and of Bardouville, who would have persuaded him
      to take up arms. Campion, one of his domestics, whom he had left at Paris
      to mind his affairs at Court, told me these particulars by the Count's
      express orders, and I still remember this passage in one of his letters to
      Campion: "The men you know are very urgent with me to treat with the
      enemy, and accuse me of weakness because I fear the examples of Charles de
      Bourbon and Robert d'Artois." He was ordered to show me this letter and
      desire my opinion thereupon. I took my pen, and, at a little distance from
      the answer he had already begun, I wrote these words:
    </p>
    <p>
      "And I do accuse them of folly." The reasons upon which my opinion was
      grounded were these: The Count was courageous in the highest degree of
      what is commonly called valour, and had a more than ordinary share in that
      boldness of mind which we call resolution. The first is common and to be
      frequently met with among the vulgar, but the second is rarer than can be
      imagined, and yet abundantly more necessary for great enterprises; and is
      there a greater in the world than heading a party? The command of an army
      is without comparison of less intricacy, for there are wheels within
      wheels necessary for governing the State, but then they are not near so
      brittle and delicate. In a word, I am of opinion there are greater
      qualities necessary to make a good head of a party than to make an emperor
      who is to govern the whole world, and that resolution ought to run
      parallel with judgment,&mdash;I say, with heroic judgment, which is able
      to distinguish the extraordinary from what we call the impossible.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Count had not one grain of this discerning faculty, which is but
      seldom to be met with in the sublimest genius. His character was mean to a
      degree, and consequently susceptible of unreasonable jealousies and
      distrusts, which of all characters is the most opposite to that of a good
      partisan, who is indispensably obliged in many cases to suppress, and in
      all to conceal, the best-grounded suspicions.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was the reason I could not be of the opinion of those who were for
      engaging the Count in a civil war; and Varicarville, who was the man of
      the best sense and temper of all the persons of quality he had about him,
      told me since that when he saw what I wrote in Campion's letter the day I
      set out for Italy, he very well knew by what motives I was, against my
      inclination, persuaded into this opinion.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Count held out all this year and the next against every solicitation
      of the Spaniards and the importunities of his own friends, much more by
      the wise counsels of Varicarville than by the force of his own resolution;
      but nothing could secure him from the teasings of the Cardinal de
      Richelieu, who poured into his ears every day in the King's name his many
      dismal discoveries and prognostications. For fear of being tedious I shall
      only tell you in one word that the Cardinal, contrary to his own interest,
      hurried the Count into a civil war, by such arts of chicanery as those who
      are fortune's favourites never fail to play upon the unfortunate.
    </p>
    <p>
      The minds of people began now to be more embittered than ever. I was sent
      for by the Count to Sedan to tell him the state of Paris. The account I
      gave him could not but be very agreeable; for I told him the very truth:
      that he was universally beloved, honoured, and adored in that city, and
      his enemy dreaded and abhorred. The Duc de Bouillon, who was urgent for
      war, be the consequence what it would, improved upon these advantages, and
      made them look more plausible, but Varicarville strongly opposed him.
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought myself too young to declare my opinion; but, being pressed to do
      so by his Highness, I took the liberty to tell him that a Prince of the
      blood ought to engage himself in a civil war rather than suffer any
      diminution of his reputation or dignity, yet that nothing but these two
      cases could justly oblige him to it, because he hazards both by a
      commotion whenever the one or the other consideration does not make it
      necessary; that I thought his Highness far from being under any such
      necessity; that his retreat to Sedan secured him from the indignity he
      must have submitted to, among others, of taking the left hand, even in the
      Cardinal's own house; that, in the meantime, the popular hatred of the
      Cardinal gained his Highness the greater share of the public favour, which
      is always much better secured by inaction than action, because the glory
      of action depends upon success, for which no one can answer; whereas
      inaction is sure to be commended as being founded upon the hatred which
      the public will always bear to the minister. That, therefore, I should
      think it would be more glorious for his Highness, in the view of the
      world, to support himself by his own weight, that is, by the merit of his
      virtue, against the artifices of so powerful a minister as the Cardinal de
      Richelieu,&mdash;I say, more glorious to support himself by a wise and
      regular conduct than to kindle the fire of war, the flagrant consequences
      whereof no man is able to foresee; that it was true that the minister was
      universally cursed, but that I could not yet see that the people's minds
      were exasperated enough for any considerable revolution; that the Cardinal
      was in a declining state of health, and if he should not die this time,
      his Highness would have the opportunity of showing the King and the public
      that though, by his own personal authority and his important post at
      Sedan, he was in a capacity to do himself justice, he sacrificed his own
      resentments to the welfare and quiet of the State; and that if the
      Cardinal should recover his health, he would not fail, by additional acts
      of tyranny and oppression, to draw upon himself the redoubled execrations
      of the people, which would ripen, their murmurings and discontents into a
      universal revolution.
    </p>
    <p>
      This is the substance of what I said to the Count, and he seemed to be
      somewhat affected by it. But the Duc de Bouillon was enraged, and told me,
      by way of banter, "Your blood is very cold for a gentleman of your age."
      To which I replied in these very words: "All the Count's servants are so
      much obliged to you, monsieur, that they ought to bear everything from
      you; but were it not for this consideration alone, I should think that
      your bastions would not be always strong enough to protect you." The Duke
      soon came to himself, and treated me with all the civilities imaginable,
      such as laid a foundation for our future friendship. I stayed two days
      longer at Sedan, during which the Count changed his mind five different
      times, as I was told by M. Saint-Ibal, who said little was to be expected
      from a man of his humour. At last, however, the Duc de Bouillon won him
      over. I was charged to do all I could to convince the people of Paris, had
      an order to take up money and to lay it out for this purpose, and I
      returned from Sedan with letters more than enough to have hanged two
      hundred men.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I had faithfully set the Count's true interest before him, and
      dissuaded him from undertaking an affair of which he was by no means
      capable, I thought it high time to think of my own affairs. I hated my
      profession now more than ever; I was at first hurried into it by the
      infatuation of my kindred. My destiny had bound me down to it by the
      chains both of duty and pleasure, so that I could see no possibility to
      set myself free. I was upwards of twenty-five years of age, and I saw it
      was now too late to begin to carry a musket; but that which tortured me
      most of all was this fatal reflection, that I had spent so much of my time
      in too eager a pursuit of pleasure, and thereby riveted my own chains; so
      that it looked as if fate was resolved to fasten me to the Church, whether
      I would or no. You may imagine with what satisfaction such thoughts as
      these were accompanied, for this confusion of affairs gave me hopes of
      getting loose from my profession with uncommon honour and reputation. I
      thought of ways to distinguish myself, pursued them very diligently, and
      you will allow that nothing but destiny broke my measures.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marechaux de Vitri and Bassompierre, the Comte de Cremail, M. du
      Fargis, and M. du Coudrai Montpensier were then prisoners in the Bastille
      upon different counts. But, as length of time makes confinement less
      irksome, they were treated very civilly, and indulged with a great share
      of freedom. Their friends came to see them, and sometimes dined with them.
      By means of M. du Fargis, who had married my aunt, I got acquainted with
      the rest, and by conversing with them discovered very remarkable emotions
      in some of them, upon which I could not help reflecting. The Marechal de
      Vitri was a gentleman of mean parts, but bold, even to rashness, and his
      having been formerly employed to kill the Marechal d'Ancre had given him
      in the common vogue, though I think unjustly, the air of a man of business
      and expedition. He appeared to me enraged against the Cardinal, and I
      concluded he might do service in the present juncture, but did not address
      myself directly to him, and thought it the wisest way first to sift the
      Comte de Cremail, who was a man of sound sense, and could influence the
      Marechal de Vitri as he pleased. He apprehended me at half a word, and
      immediately asked me if I had made myself known to any of the prisoners. I
      answered, readily:
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, monsieur; and I will tell you my reasons in a very few words.
      Bassompierre is a tattler; I expect to do nothing with the Marechal de
      Vitri but by your means. I suspect the honesty of Du Coudrai, and as for
      my uncle, Du Fargis, he is a gallant man, but has no headpiece."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whom, then, do you confide in at Paris?" said the Comte de Cremail.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I dare trust no man living," said I, "but yourself."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is very well," said he, briskly; "you are the man for me. I am above
      eighty years old, and you but twenty-five; I will qualify your heat, and
      you my chilliness."
    </p>
    <p>
      We went upon business, drew up our plan, and at parting he said these very
      words: "Let me alone one week, and after that I will tell you more of my
      mind, for I hope to convince the Cardinal that I am good for something
      more than writing the 'Jeu de l'Inconnu.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      You must know that the "Jeu de l'Inconnu" was a book, indeed, very ill
      written, which the Comte de Cremail had formerly published, and which the
      Cardinal had grossly ridiculed. You will be surprised, without doubt, that
      I should think of prisoners for an affair of this importance, but the
      nature of it was such that it could not be put into better hands, as you
      will see by and by.
    </p>
    <p>
      A week after, going to visit the prisoners, and Cremail and myself being
      accidentally left alone, we took a walk upon the terrace, where, after a
      thousand thanks for the confidence I had put in him, and as many
      protestations of his readiness to serve the Comte de Soissons, he spoke
      thus: "There is nothing but the thrust of a sword or the city of Paris
      that can rid us of the Cardinal. Had I been at the enterprise of Amiens, I
      think I should not have missed my blow, as those gentlemen did. I am for
      that of Paris; it cannot miscarry; I have considered it well. See here
      what additions I have made to our plan." And thereupon he put into my hand
      a paper, in substance as follows: that he had conferred with the Marechal
      de Vitri, who was as well disposed as anybody in the world to serve the
      Count; that they would both answer for the Bastille, where all the
      garrison was in their interest; that they were likewise sure of the
      arsenal; and that they would also declare themselves as soon as the Count
      had gained a battle, on condition that I made it appear beforehand, as I
      had told him (the Comte de Cremail), that they should be supported by a
      considerable number of officers, colonels of Paris, etc. For the rest,
      this paper contained many particular observations on the conduct of the
      undertaking, and many cautions relating to the behaviour to be observed by
      the Count. That which surprised me most of all was to see how fully persuaded
      these gentlemen were of carrying their point with ease.
    </p>
    <p>
      Though it came into my head to propose this project to the persons in the
      Bastille, yet nothing but the perfect knowledge I had of their disposition
      and inclination could have persuaded me that it was practicable. And I
      confess, upon perusal of the plan prepared by M. de Cremail, a man of
      great experience and excellent sense, I was astonished to find a few
      prisoners disposing of the Bastille with the same freedom as the Governor,
      the greatest authority in the place.
    </p>
    <p>
      As all extraordinary circumstances are of wonderful weight in popular
      revolutions, I considered that this project, which was even ripe for
      execution, would have an admirable effect in the city. And as nothing
      animates and supports commotions more than the ridiculing of those against
      whom they are raised, I knew it would be very easy for us to expose the
      conduct of a minister who had tamely suffered prisoners to hamper him, as
      one may say, with their chains. I lost no time; afterwards I opened myself
      to M. d'Estampes, President of the Great Council, and to M. l'Ecuyer,
      President of the Chamber of Accounts, both colonels, and in great repute
      among the citizens, and I found them every way answering the character I
      had of them from the Count; that is, very zealous for his interest, and
      fully persuaded that the insurrection was not only practicable, but very
      easy. Pray observe that these two gentlemen, who made no great figure,
      even in their own profession, were, perhaps, two of the most peaceable
      persons in the kingdom. But there are some fires which burn all before
      them. The main thing is to know and seize the critical moment.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Count had charged me to disclose myself to none in Paris besides these
      two, but I ventured to add two more: Parmentier, substitute to the
      Attorney-General; and his brother-in-law, Epinai, auditor of the Chamber
      of Accounts, who was the man of the greatest credit, though but a
      lieutenant, and the other a captain. Parmentier, who, both by his wit and
      courage, was as capable of a great action as any man I ever knew, promised
      me that he would answer for Brigalier, councillor in the Court of Aids,
      captain in his quarter, and very powerful among the people, but told me at
      the same time that he must not know a word of the matter, because he was a
      mere rattle, not to be trusted with a secret.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Count made me a remittance of 12,000 crowns, which I carried to my
      aunt De Maignelai, telling her that it was a restitution made by one of my
      dying friends, who made me trustee of it upon condition that I should
      distribute it among decayed families who were ashamed to make their
      necessities known, and that I had taken an oath to distribute it myself,
      persuant to the desire of the testator, but that I was at a loss to find
      out fit objects for my charity; and therefore I desired her to take the
      care of it upon her. The good woman was perfectly transported, and said
      she would do it with all her heart; but because I had sworn to make the
      distribution myself, she insisted upon it that I must be present, not only
      for the sake of my promise, but to accustom myself to do acts of charity.
      This was the very thing I aimed at,&mdash;an opportunity of knowing all
      the poor of Paris. Therefore I suffered myself to be carried every day by
      my aunt into the outskirts, to visit the poor in their garrets, and I met
      very often in her house people who were very well clad, and many whom I
      once knew, that came for private charity. My good aunt charged them always
      to pray to God for her nephew, who was the hand that God had been pleased
      to make use of for this good work. Judge you of the influence this gave me
      over the populace, who are without comparison the most considerable in all
      public disturbances. For the rich never come into such measures unless
      they are forced, and beggars do more harm than good, because it is known
      that they aim at plunder; those, therefore, who are capable of doing most
      service are such as are not reduced to common beggary, yet so straitened
      in their circumstances as to wish for nothing more than a general change
      of affairs in order to repair their broken fortunes. I made myself
      acquainted with people of this rank for the course of four months with
      uncommon application, so that there was hardly a child in the
      chimney-corner but I gratified with some small token. I called them by
      their familiar names. My aunt, who always made it her business to go from
      house to house to relieve the poor, was a cloak for all. I also played the
      hypocrite, and frequented the conferences of Saint Lazarus.
    </p>
    <p>
      Varicarville and Beauregarde, my correspondents at Sedan, assured me that
      the Comte de Soissons was as well inclined as one could wish, and that he
      had not wavered since he had formed his last resolution. Varicarville said
      that we had formerly done him horrible injustice, and that they were now
      even obliged to restrain him, because he seemed to be too fond of the
      counsels of Spain and the Empire. Please to observe that these two Courts,
      which had made incredible solicitations to him while he wavered, began, as
      soon as his purpose was fixed, to draw back,&mdash;a fatality due to the
      phlegmatic temper of the Spaniard, dignified by the name of prudence,
      joined to the astute politics of the house of Austria. You may observe at
      the same time that the Count, who had continued firm and unshaken three
      months together, changed his mind as soon as his enemies had granted what
      he asked; which exactly comes up to the character of an irresolute man,
      who is always most unsteady the nearer the work comes to its conclusion. I
      heard of this convulsion, as one may call it, by an express from
      Varicarville, and took post the same night for Sedan, arriving there an
      hour after Aretonville, an agent despatched from the Count's brother
      in-law, M. de Longueville.&mdash;[Henri d'Orleans, the second of that
      name, died 1663.]&mdash;He came with some plausible but deceitful terms of
      accommodation which we all agreed to oppose. Those who had been always
      with the Count pressed him strongly with the remembrance of what he
      himself thought or said was necessary to be done ever since the war had
      been resolved on. Saint-Ibal, who had been negotiating for him at
      Brussels, pressed him with his engagements, advances, and solicitations,
      insisted on the steps I had, by his order, already taken in Paris, on the
      promises made to De Vitri and Cremail, and on the secret committed to two
      persons by his own command, and to four others for his service and with
      his consent. Our arguments, considering his engagements, were very just
      and clear. We carried our point with much ado after a conflict of four
      days. Aretonville was sent back with a very smart answer. M. de Guise, who
      had joined the Count, and was a well-wisher to a rupture, went to Liege to
      order the levies, Varicarville and I returned to Paris, but I did not care
      to tell my fellow conspirators of the irresolution of our principal. Some
      symptoms of it appeared afterwards, but they very soon vanished.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being assured that the Spaniards had everything in readiness, I went for
      the last time to Sedan to take my final instructions. There I found
      Meternic, colonel of one of the oldest regiments of the Empire, despatched
      by General Lamboy, who had advanced with a gallant army under his command,
      composed for the most part of veteran troops. The Colonel assured the
      Count that he was ordered to obey his commands in everything, and to give
      battle to the Marechal de Chatillon, who commanded the army of France upon
      the Meuse. As the undertaking at Paris depended entirely on the success of
      such a battle, the Count thought it fitting that I should go along with
      Meternic to Givet, where I found the army in a very good condition. Then I
      returned to Paris, and gave an account of every particular to the Marechal
      de Pitri, who drew up the order for the enterprise. The whole city of
      Paris seemed so disposed for an insurrection that we thought ourselves
      sure of success. The secret was kept even to a miracle. The Count gave the
      enemy battle and won it. You now believe, without doubt, the day was our
      own. Far from it; for the Count was killed in the very crisis of the
      victory, and in the midst of his own men; but how and by whom no soul
      could ever tell.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may guess what a condition I was in when I heard this news; M. de
      Cremail, the wisest of us all, thought of nothing else now but how to
      conceal the secret, which, though known to only six in all Paris, was
      known to too great a number; but the greatest danger of discovery was from
      the people of Sedan, who, being out of the kingdom, were not afraid of
      punishment. Nevertheless, everybody privy to it religiously kept it
      secret, and stood their ground, which, with another accident I shall
      mention hereafter, has made me often think, and say too, that secrecy is
      not so rare a thing as we imagine with men versed in matters of State.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Count's death settled me in my profession, for I saw no great things
      to be done, and I found myself too old to leave it for anything trifling.
      Besides, Cardinal de Richelieu's health was declining, and I already began
      to think myself Archbishop of Paris. I resolved that for the future I
      would devote myself to my profession. Madame de Guemenee had retired to
      Port Royal, her country-seat. M. d'Andilly had got her from me. She
      neither powdered nor curled her hair any longer, and had dismissed me
      solemnly with all the formalities required from a sincere penitent. I
      discovered, by means of a valet de chambre, that, captain &mdash;&mdash;
      of the Marshal's Guards, had as free access to Meilleraye's lady as
      myself. See what it is to be a saint! The truth is, I grew much more
      regular,&mdash;at least affected to be thought so,&mdash;led a retired
      life, stuck to my profession, studied hard, and got acquainted with all
      who were famous either for learning or piety. I converted my house almost
      into an academy, but took care not to erect the academy into a rigid
      tribunal. I began to be pretty free with the canons and curates, whom I
      found of course at my uncle's house. I did not act the devotee, because I
      could not be sure how long I should be able to play the counterfeit, but I
      had a high esteem for devout people, which with such is the main article
      of religion. I suited my pleasures to my practice, and, finding I could
      not live without some amorous intrigue, I managed an amour with Madame de
      Pommereux, a young coquette, who had so many sparks, not only in her house
      but at her devotions, that the apparent business of others was a cover for
      mine, which was, at least, some time afterwards, more to the purpose. When
      I had succeeded, I became a man in such request among those of my
      profession that the devotees themselves used to say of me with M. Vincent,
      "Though I had not piety enough, yet I was not far from the kingdom of
      heaven."
    </p>
    <p>
      Fortune favoured me more than usual at this time. I was at the house of
      Madame de Rambure, a notable and learned Huguenot, where I met with
      Mestrezat, the famous minister of Charento. To satisfy her curiosity she
      engaged us in a dispute; we had nine different disputations. The Marechal
      de la Forde and M. de Turenne were present at some of them, and a
      gentleman of Poitou, who was at all of them, became my proselyte. As I was
      then but twenty-six years of age, this made a great deal of noise, and
      among other effects, was productive of one that had not the least
      connection with its cause, which I shall mention after I have done justice
      to a civility I received from my antagonist in one of the conferences. I
      had the advantage of him in the fifth meeting, relating to the spiritual
      vocation; but in the sixth, treating of the Pope's authority, I was
      confounded, because, to avoid embroiling myself with the Court of Rome, I
      answered him on principles which are not so easy to be maintained as those
      of the Sorbonne. My opponent perceived the concern I was under, and
      generously forebore to urge such passages as would have obliged me to
      explain myself in a manner disagreeable to the Pope's Nuncio. I thought it
      extremely obliging, and as we were going out thanked him in the presence
      of M. de Turenne; to which he answered, very civilly, that it would have
      been a piece of injustice to hinder the Abbe de Retz from being made a
      cardinal. This was such complaisance as you are not to expect from every
      Geneva pedant. I told you before that this conference produced one effect
      very different from its cause, and it is this: Madame de Vendome, of whom
      you have heard, without doubt, took such a fancy to me ever after, that a
      mother could not have been more tender. She had been at the conference
      too, though I am very well assured she understood nothing of the matter;
      but the favourable opinion she had of me was owing to the Bishop of
      Lisieux, her spiritual director, who, finding I was disposed to follow my
      profession, which out of his great love to me he most passionately
      desired, made it his business to magnify the few good qualities I was
      master of; and I am thoroughly persuaded that what applause I had then in
      the world was chiefly owing to his encouragement, for there was not a man
      in France whose approbation could give so much honour. His sermons had
      advanced him from a very mean and foreign extraction (which was Flemish)
      to the episcopal dignity, which he adorned with solid and unaffected
      piety. His disinterestedness was far beyond that of the hermits or
      anchorites. He had the courage of Saint Ambrose, and at Court and in the
      presence of the King he so maintained his usual freedom that the Cardinal
      de Richelieu, who had been his scholar in divinity, both reverenced and
      feared him. This good man had that abundant kindness for me that he read
      me lectures thrice a week upon Saint Paul's Epistles, and he designed also
      the conversion of M. de Turenne and to give me the honour of it.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Turenne had a great respect for him, whereof he gave him very,
      distinguishing marks. The Comte de Brion, whom, I believe, you may
      remember under the title of Duc d'Amville, was deeply in love with
      Mademoiselle de Vendome, since Madame de Nemours; and, besides, he was a
      great favourite of M. de Turenne, who, to do him a pleasure and to give
      him the more opportunities to see Mademoiselle de Vendome, affected to be
      a great admirer of the Bishop of Lisieux and to hear his exhortations with
      a world of attention. The Comte de Brion, who had twice been a Capuchin,
      and whose life was a continual medley of sin and devotion, pretended
      likewise to be much interested in M. de Turenne's conversion, and was
      present at all the conferences held at Mademoiselle de Vendome's
      apartment. De Brion had very little wit, but was a clever talker, and had
      a great deal of assurance, which not very seldom supplies the room of good
      sense. This and the behaviour of M. de Turenne, together with the
      indolence of Mademoiselle de Vendome, made me think all was fair, so that
      I never suspected an amour at the bottom.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Bishop of Lisieux being a great admirer of Corneille's writings, and
      making no scruple to see a good comedy, provided it was in the country
      among a few friends, the late Madame de Choisy proposed to entertain him
      with one at Saint Cloud. Accordingly Madame took with her Madame and
      Mademoiselle de Vendome, M. de Turenne, M. de Brion, Voiture, and myself.
      De Brion took care of the comedy and violins, and I looked after a good
      collation. We went to the Archbishop's house at Saint Cloud, where the
      comedians did not arrive till very late at night. M. de Lisieux admired
      the violins, and Madame de Vendome was hugely diverted to see her daughter
      dance alone. In short, we did not set out till peep of day (it being
      summer-time), and the days at the longest, and were got no further than
      the bottom of the Descent of Bonshommes, when all on a sudden the coach
      stopped. I, being next the door opposite to Mademoiselle de Vendome, bade
      the coachman drive on. He answered, as plain as he could speak for his
      fright, "What! would you have me drive over all these devils here?" I put
      my head out of the coach, but, being short-sighted from my youth, saw
      nothing at all. Madame de Choisy, who was at the other door with M. de
      Turenne, was the first in the coach who found out the cause of the
      coachman's fright. I say in the coach, for five or six lackeys behind it
      were already crying "Jesu Maria" and quaking with fear.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Choisy cried out, upon which M. de Turenne threw himself out of
      the coach, and I, thinking we were beset by highwaymen, leaped out on the
      other side, took one of the footmen's hangers, drew it, and went to the
      other aide to join M. de Turenne, whom I found with his eyes fixed on
      something, but what I could not see. I asked him what it was, upon which
      he pulled me by the sleeve, and said, with a low voice, "I will tell you,
      but we must not frighten the ladies," who, by this time, screamed most
      fearfully. Voiture began his Oremus, and prayed heartily. You, I suppose,
      knew Madame de Choisy's shrill tone; Mademoiselle de Vendome was counting
      her beads; Madame de Vendome would fain have confessed her sins to the
      Bishop of Lisieux, who said to her, "Daughter, be of good cheer; you are
      in the hands of God." At the same instant, the Comte do Brion and all the
      lackeys were upon their knees very devoutly singing the Litany of the
      Virgin Mary.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Turenne drew his sword, and said to me, with the calm and
      undisturbed air he commonly puts on when he calls for his dinner, or gives
      battle, "Come, let us go and see who they are."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whom should we see?" said I, for I believed we had all lost our senses.
    </p>
    <p>
      He answered, "I verily think they are devils."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="p060j" id="p060j"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="p060j.jpg (40K)" src="images/p060j.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When we had advanced five or six steps I began to see something which I
      thought looked like a long procession of black phantoms. I was frightened
      at first, because of the sudden reflection that I had often wished to see
      a spirit, and that now, perhaps, I should pay for my incredulity, or
      rather curiosity. M. de Turenne was all the while calm and resolute. I
      made two or three leaps towards the procession, upon which the company in
      the coach, thinking we were fighting with all the devils, cried out most
      terribly; yet it is a question whether our company was in a greater fright
      than the imaginary devils that put us into it, who, it seems, were a
      parcel of barefooted reformed Augustine friars, otherwise called the Black
      Capuchins, who, seeing two men advancing towards them with drawn swords,
      one of them, detached from the fraternity, cried out, "Gentlemen, we are
      poor, harmless friars, only come to bathe in this river for our healths."
      M. de Turenne and I went back to the coach ready to die with laughing at
      this adventure.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon the whole we could not help making this reflection, that what we read
      in the lives of most people is false. We were both grossly mistaken, I,
      for supposing him to be frightened; he, for thinking me calm and
      undisturbed. Who, therefore, can write truth better than the man who has
      experienced it? The President de Thou is very just in his remark when he
      says that "There is no true history extant, nor can be ever expected
      unless written by honest men who are not afraid or ashamed to tell the
      truth of themselves." I do not pretend to make any merit of my sincerity
      in this case, for I feel so great a satisfaction in unfolding my very
      heart and soul to you, that the pleasure is even more prevalent than
      reason with me in the religious regard I have to the exactness of my
      history.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mademoiselle de Vendome had ever after an inconceivable contempt for the
      poor Comte de Brion, who in this ridiculous adventure had disclosed a
      weakness never before imagined; and as soon as we were got into the coach
      she bantered him, and said, particularly to me:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I fancy I must be Henri IV.'s granddaughter by the esteem I have for
      valour. There's nothing can frighten you, since you were so undaunted on
      this extraordinary occasion."
    </p>
    <p>
      I told her I was afraid, but being not so devout as M. de Brion, my fears
      did not turn to litanies.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You feared not," said she, "and I fancy you do not believe there are
      devils, for M. de Turenne, who is very brave, was much surprised, and did
      not march on so briskly as you."
    </p>
    <p>
      I confess the distinction pleased me mightily and made me think of
      venturing some compliments. I then said to her, "One may believe there is
      a devil and yet not fear him; there are things in the world more
      terrible."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And what are they?" said she.
    </p>
    <p>
      "They are so strong," said I, "that one dare not so much as name them."
    </p>
    <p>
      She interpreted my meaning rightly, as she told me since, though she
      seemed at that time not to understand me.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mademoiselle was not what they call a great beauty, yet she was very
      handsome, and I was complimented for saying of her and of Mademoiselle de
      Guise that they were beauties of quality who convinced the beholders at
      first sight that they were born Princesses. Mademoiselle de Vendome had no
      great share of wit, but her folly lay as yet concealed; her air was grave,
      tinctured with stateliness, not the effect of good sense, but the
      consequence of a languid constitution, which sort of gravity often covers
      a multitude of defects. In the main, take her altogether, she was really
      amiable.
    </p>
    <p>
      Let me beseech you, madame, with all submission, to call now to mind the
      commands you were pleased to honour me with a little before your departure
      from Paris, that I should give you a precise account of every circumstance
      and accident of my life, and conceal nothing. You see, by what I have
      already related, that my ecclesiastical occupations were diversified and
      relieved, though not disfigured, by other employments of a more diverting
      nature. I observed a decorum in all my actions, and where I happened to
      make a false step some good fortune or other always retrieved it. All the
      ecclesiastics of the diocese wished to see me succeed my uncle in the
      archbishopric of Paris, but Cardinal de Richelieu was of another mind; he
      hated my family, and most of all my person, for the reasons already
      mentioned, and was still more exasperated for these two which follow.
    </p>
    <p>
      I once told the late President de Mesmes what seems now to me very
      probable, though it is the reverse of what I told you some time ago, that
      I knew a person who had few or no failings but what were either the effect
      or cause of some good qualities. I then said, on the contrary, to M. de
      Mesmes, that Cardinal de Richelieu had not one great quality but what was
      the effect or cause of some greater imperfection. This, which was only
      'inter nos', was carried to the Cardinal, I do not know by whom, under my
      name. You may judge of the consequences. Another thing that angered him
      was because I visited the President Barillon, then prisoner at Amboise,
      concerning remonstrances made to the Parliament, and that I should do it
      at a juncture which made my journey the more noticeable. Two miserable
      hermits and false coiners, who had some secret correspondence with M. de
      Vendome, did, upon some discontent or other, accuse him very falsely of
      having proposed to them to assassinate the Cardinal, and to give the more
      weight to their depositions they named all those they thought notorious in
      that country; Montresor and M. Barillon were of the number. Early notice
      of this being given me, the great love I had for the President Barillon
      made me take post that night to acquaint him with his danger and get him
      away from Amboise, which was very feasible; but he, insisting upon his
      innocence, rejected my proposals, defied both the accusers and their
      accusations, and was resolved to continue in prison. This journey of mine
      gave a handle to the Cardinal to tell the Bishop of Lisieux that I was a
      cordial friend to all his enemies.
    </p>
    <p>
      "True enough," said the Bishop; "nevertheless you ought to esteem him; you
      have no reason to complain of him, because those men whom you mean were
      all his true friends before they became your enemies."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If it be so," replied the Cardinal, "then I am very much misinformed."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Bishop at this juncture did me all the kind offices imaginable, and if
      the Cardinal had lived he would undoubtedly have restored me to his
      favour; for his Eminence was very well disposed, especially when the
      Bishop assured him that, though I knew myself ruined at Court to all
      intents and purposes, yet I would never come into the measures of M. le
      Grand.&mdash;[M. de Cinq-Mars, Henri Coeffier, otherwise called Ruze
      d'Effial, Master of the Horse of France; he was beheaded September 12,
      1642.]&mdash;I was indeed importuned by my friend M. de Thou to join in
      that enterprise, but I saw the weakness of their foundation, as the event
      has shown, and therefore rejected their proposals.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal de Richelieu died in 1642, before the good Bishop had made my
      peace with him, and so I remained among those who had rendered themselves
      obnoxious to the Ministry. At first this character was very prejudicial to
      my interest. Although the King was overjoyed at his death, yet he
      carefully observed all the appearances of respect for his deceased
      minister, confirmed all his legacies, cared for his family, kept all his
      creatures in the Ministry, and affected to frown upon all who had not
      stood well with the Cardinal; but I was the only exception to this general
      rule. When the Archbishop of Paris presented me to the King, I was treated
      with such distinguishing marks of royal favour as surprised all the Court.
      His Majesty talked of my studies and sermons, rallied me with an obliging
      freedom, and bade me come to Court once every week. The reasons of these
      extraordinary civilities were utterly unknown to us until the night before
      his death, when he told them to the Queen. I passed them by in silence
      before as having no bearing on my history, but I am obliged to insert them
      here because they have been, in their consequences, more fortunate than I
      seemed to have any just claim to expect.
    </p>
    <p>
      A short time after I left the college, my governor's valet de chambre
      found, at a poor pin-maker's house, a niece of hers but fourteen years
      old, who was surprisingly beautiful. After I had seen her he bought her
      for me for 150 pistoles, hired a little house for her, and placed her
      sister with her; when I went to see her I found her in great heaviness of
      mind, which I attributed to her modesty. I next day found what was yet
      more surprising and extraordinary than her beauty; she talked wisely and
      religiously to me, and yet without passion. She cried only when she could
      not help it. She feared her aunt to a degree that made me pity her. I
      admired her wit first, and then her virtue, for trial of which I pressed
      her as far as was necessary, until I was even ashamed of myself. I waited
      till night to get her into my coach, and then carried her to my aunt De
      Maignelai, who put her into a convent, where she died eight or ten years
      after, in great reputation for piety. My aunt, to whom this young creature
      confessed that the menaces of the pin-maker had terrified her so much that
      she would have done whatsoever I wished, was so affected with my behaviour
      that she went to tell it to the Bishop of Lisieux, who told it to the
      King.
    </p>
    <p>
      This second adventure was not of the same nature, but it made as great an
      impression on the King's mind. It was a duel I had with Coutenau, captain
      of a company of the King's Light-horse, brave, but wild, who, riding post
      from Paris as I was going there, made the ostler take off my saddle and
      put on his. Upon my telling him I had hired the horse, he gave me a
      swinging box on the ear, which fetched blood. I instantly drew my sword,
      and so did he. While making our first thrusts his foot slipped, and his
      sword dropped out of his hand as he fell to the ground. I retired a little
      and bade him pick it up, which he did, but it was by the point, for he
      presented me the handle and begged a thousand pardons. He told this little
      story afterwards to the King, with whom he had great freedom. His Majesty
      was pleased with it, and remembered both time and place, as you will see
      hereafter.
    </p>
    <p>
      The good reception I found at Court gave my relatives some grounds to hope
      that I might have the coadjutorship of Paris. At first they found a great
      deal of difficulty in my uncle's narrowness of spirit, which is always
      attended with fears and jealousies; but at length they prevailed upon him,
      and would have then carried our point, if my friends had not given it out,
      much against my judgment, that it was done by the consent of the
      Archbishop of Paris, and if they had not suffered the Sorbonne, the cures,
      and chapter to return him their thanks. This affair made too much noise in
      the world for my interest. For Cardinal Mazarin, De Noyers, and De
      Chavigni thwarted me, and told his Majesty that the chapter should not be
      entrusted with the power of nominating their own archbishop. And the King
      was heard to say that I was yet too young.
    </p>
    <p>
      But we met with a worse obstacle than all from M. de Noyers, Secretary of
      State, one of the three favourite ministers, who passed for a religious
      man, and was suspected by some to be a Jesuit in disguise. He had a secret
      longing for the archbishopric of Paris, which would shortly be vacant, and
      therefore thought it expedient to remove me from that city, where he saw I
      was extremely beloved, and provide me with some post suitable to my years.
      He proposed to the King by his confessor to nominate me Bishop of Agde.
      The King readily granted the request, which confounded me beyond all
      expression. I had no mind to go to Languedoc, and yet so great are the
      inconveniences of a refusal that not a man had courage to advise me to it.
      I became, therefore, my own counsellor, and having resolved with myself
      what course to take, I waited upon his Majesty, and thanked him for his
      gracious offer, but said I dreaded the weight of so remote a see, and that
      my years wanted advice, which it is difficult to obtain in provinces so
      distant. I added to this other arguments, which you may guess at. I was in
      this adventure also more happy than wise. The King continued to treat me
      very kindly. This circumstance, and the retreat of M. de Noyers, who fell
      into the snare that Chavigni had laid for him, renewed my hopes of the
      coadjutorship of Paris. The King died about this time, in 1643. M. de
      Beaufort, who had been always devoted to the Queen's interest, and even
      passed for her gallant, pretended now to govern the kingdom, of which he
      was not so capable as his valet de chambre. The Bishop of Beauvais, the
      greatest idiot you ever knew, took upon himself the character of Prime
      Minister, and on the first day of his administration required the Dutch to
      embrace the Roman Catholic religion if they desired to continue in
      alliance with France. The Queen was ashamed of this ridiculous minister,
      and sent for me to offer my father&mdash;[Philippe Emmanuel de Gondi,
      Comte de Joigni; he retired to the Fathers of the Oratory, and became
      priest; died 1662, aged eighty-one.]&mdash;the place of Prime Minister;
      but he refusing peremptorily to leave his cell and the Fathers of the
      Oratory, the place was conferred upon Cardinal Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may now imagine that it was no great task for me to obtain what I
      desired at a time that nothing was refused, which made Feuillade say that
      the only words in the French tongue were "La Reine est si bonne."
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Maignelai and the Bishop of Lisieux desired the Queen to grant
      me the coadjutorship of Paris, but they were repulsed, the Queen assuring
      them that none should have it but my father, who kept from Court; and
      would never be seen at the Louvre, except once, when the Queen told him
      publicly that the King, the very night before he died, had ordered her
      expressly to have it solicited for me, and that he said in the presence of
      the Bishop of Lisieux that he had me always in his thoughts since the
      adventures of the pinmaker and Captain Coutenau. What relation had these
      trifling stories to the archbishopric of Paris? Thus we see that affairs
      of the greatest moment often owe their rise and success to insignificant
      trifles and accidents. All the companies went to thank the Queen. I sent
      16,000 crowns to Rome for my bull, with orders not to desire any favour,
      lest it should delay the despatch and give the ministers time to oppose
      it. I received my bull accordingly; and now you will see me ascending the
      theatre of action, where you will find scenes not indeed worthy of
      yourself, but not altogether unworthy of your attention.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="book2" id="book2"></a>
    </p>
    <h1>
      BOOK II.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      MADAME:&mdash;I lay it down as a maxim, that men who enter the service of
      the State should make it their chief study to set out in the world with
      some notable act which may strike the imagination of the people, and cause
      themselves to be discussed. Thus I preached first upon All Saints' Day,
      before an audience which could not but be numerous in a populous city,
      where it is a wonder to see the Archbishop in the pulpit. I began now to
      think seriously upon my future conduct. I found the archbishopric sunk
      both in its temporals and spirituals by the sordidness, negligence, and
      incapacity of my uncle. I foresaw infinite obstacles to its
      reestablishment, but perceived that the greatest and most insuperable
      difficulty lay in myself. I considered that the strictest morals are
      necessarily required in a bishop. I felt myself the more obliged to be
      strictly circumspect as my uncle had been very disorderly and scandalous.
      I knew likewise that my own corrupt inclinations would bear down all
      before them, and that all the considerations drawn from honour and
      conscience would prove very weak defences. At last I came to a resolution
      to go on in my sins, and that designedly, which without doubt is the more
      sinful in the eyes of God, but with regard to the world is certainly the
      best policy, because he that acts thus always takes care beforehand to
      cover part of his failings, and thereby to avoid the jumbling together of
      sin and devotion, than which nothing can be more dangerous and ridiculous
      in a clergyman. This was my disposition, which was not the most pious in
      the world nor yet the wickedest, for I was fully determined to discharge
      all the duties of my profession faithfully, and exert my utmost to save
      other souls, though I took no care of my own.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Archbishop, who was the weakest of mortals, was, nevertheless, by a
      common fatality attending such men, the most vainglorious; he yielded
      precedence to every petty officer of the Crown, and yet in his own house
      would not give the right-hand to any person of quality that came to him
      about business. My behaviour was the reverse of his in almost everything;
      I gave the right-hand to all strangers in my own house, and attended them
      even to their coach, for which I was commended by some for my civility and
      by others for my humility. I avoided appearing in public assemblies among
      people of quality till I had established a reputation. When I thought I
      had done so, I took the opportunity of the sealing of a marriage contract
      to dispute my rank with M. de Guise. I had carefully studied the laws of
      my diocese and got others to do it for me, and my right was indisputable
      in my own province. The precedence was adjudged in my favour by a decree
      of the Council, and I found, by the great number of gentlemen who then
      appeared for me, that to condescend to men of low degree is the surest way
      to equal those of the highest.
    </p>
    <p>
      I dined almost every day with Cardinal Mazarin, who liked me the better
      because I refused to engage myself in the cabal called "The Importants,"
      though many of the members were my dearest friends. M. de Beaufort, a man
      of very mean parts, was so much out of temper because the Queen had put
      her confidence in Cardinal Mazarin, that, though her Majesty offered him
      favours with profusion, he would accept none, and affected to give himself
      the airs of an angry lover. He held aloof from the Duc d'Orleans, insulted
      the late Prince, and, in order to support himself against the
      Queen-regent, the chief minister, and all the Princes of the blood, formed
      a cabal of men who all died mad, and whom I never took for conjurers from
      the first time I knew them. Such were Beaupre, Fontrailles, Fiesque,
      Montresor, who had the austerity of Cato, but not his sagacity, and M. de
      Bethune, who obliged M. de Beaufort to make me great overtures, which I
      received very respectfully, but entered into none. I told Montresor that I
      was indebted to the Queen for the coadjutorship of Paris, and that that
      was enough to keep me from entering into any engagement that might be
      disagreeable to her Majesty. Montresor said I was not obliged for it to
      the Queen, it having been ordered before by the late King, and given me at
      a crisis when she was not in a condition to refuse it. I replied, "Permit
      me, monsieur, to forget everything that may diminish my gratitude, and to
      remember that only which may increase it." These words were afterwards
      repeated to Cardinal Mazarin, who was so pleased with me that he repeated
      them to the Queen.
    </p>
    <p>
      The families of Orleans and Conde, being united by interest, made a jest
      of that surly look from which Beaufort's cabal were termed "The
      Importants," and at the same time artfully made use of the grand
      appearance which Beaufort (like those who carry more sail than ballast)
      never failed to assume upon the most trifling occasions. His counsels were
      unseasonable, his meetings to no purpose, and even his hunting matches
      became mysterious. In short, Beaufort was arrested at the Louvre by a
      captain of the Queen's Guards, and carried on the 2d of September, 1643,
      to Vincennes. The cabal of "The Importants" was put to flight and
      dispersed, and it was reported over all the kingdom that they had made an
      attempt against the Cardinal's life, which I do not believe, because I
      never saw anything in confirmation of it, though many of the domestics of
      the family of Vendome were a long time in prison upon this account.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marquis de Nangis, who was enraged both against the Queen and
      Cardinal, for reasons which I shall tell you afterwards, was strongly
      tempted to come into this cabal a few days before Beaufort was arrested,
      but I dissuaded him by telling him that fashion is powerful in all the
      affairs of life, but more remarkably so as to a man's being in favour or
      disgrace at Court. There are certain junctures when disgrace, like fire,
      purifies all the bad qualities, and sets a lustre on all the good ones,
      and also there are times when it does not become an honest man to be out
      of favour at Court. I applied this to the gentlemen of the aforesaid
      cabal.
    </p>
    <p>
      I must confess, to the praise of Cardinal de Richelieu, that he had formed
      two vast designs worthy of a Caesar or an Alexander: that of suppressing
      the Protestants had been projected before by Cardinal de Retz, my uncle;
      but that of attacking the formidable house of Austria was never thought of
      by any before the Cardinal. He completed the first design, and had made
      great progress in the latter.
    </p>
    <p>
      That the King's death made no alteration in affairs was owing to the
      bravery of the Prince de Conde and the famous battle of Rocroi, in 1643,
      which contributed both to the peace and glory of the kingdom, and covered
      the cradle of the present King with laurels. Louis XIV.'s father, who
      neither loved nor esteemed his Queen, provided him a Council, upon his
      death-bed, for limiting the authority of the Regency, and named the
      Cardinal Mazarin, M. Seguier, M. Bouthillier, and M. de Chavigni; but
      being all Richelieu's creatures, they were so hated by the public that
      when the King was dead they were hissed at by all the footmen at Saint
      Germain, and if De Beaufort had had a grain of sense, or if De Beauvais
      had not been a disgraceful bishop, or if my father had but entered into
      the administration, these collateral Regents would have been undoubtedly
      expelled with ignominy, and the memory of Cardinal de Richelieu been
      branded by the Parliament with shouts of joy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen was adored much more for her troubles than for her merit. Her
      admirers had never seen her but under persecution; and in persons of her
      rank, suffering is one of the greatest virtues. People were apt to fancy
      that she was patient to a degree of indolence. In a word, they expected
      wonders from her; and Bautru used to say she had already worked a miracle
      because the most devout had forgotten her coquetry. The Duc d'Orleans, who
      made a show as if he would have disputed the Regency with the Queen, was
      contented to be Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom. The Prince de Conde was
      declared President of the Council, and the Parliament confirmed the
      Regency to the Queen without limitation. The exiles were called home,
      prisoners set at liberty, and criminals pardoned. They who had been turned
      out were replaced in their respective employments, and nothing that was
      asked was refused. The happiness of private families seemed to be fully
      secured in the prosperity of the State. The perfect union of the royal
      family settled the peace within doors; and the battle of Rocroi was such a
      blow to the Spanish infantry that they could not recover in an age. They
      saw at the foot of the throne, where the fierce and terrible Richelieu
      used to thunder rather than govern, a mild and gentle successor,&mdash;[Cardinal
      Julius Mazarin, Minister of State, who died at Vincennes in 1661.]&mdash;who
      was perfectly complacent and extremely troubled that his dignity of
      Cardinal did not permit him to be as humble to all men as he desired; and
      who, when he went abroad, had no other attendants than two footmen behind
      his coach. Had not I, then, reason for saying that it did not become an
      honest man to be on bad terms with the Court at that time of day?
    </p>
    <p>
      You will wonder, no doubt, that nobody was then aware of the consequence
      of imprisoning M. de Beaufort, when the prison doors were set open to all
      others. This bold stroke&mdash;at a time when the Government was so mild
      that its authority was hardly felt&mdash;had a very great effect. Though
      nothing was more easy, as you have seen, yet it looked grand; and all acts
      of this nature are very successful because they are attended with dignity
      without any odium. That which generally draws an unaccountable odium upon
      even the most necessary actions of statesmen, is that, in order to compass
      them, they are commonly obliged to struggle with very great difficulties,
      which, when they are surmounted, are certain to render them objects both
      of envy and hatred. When a considerable occasion offers, where there is no
      victory to be gained because there is no difficulty to encounter, which is
      very rare, it gives a lustre to the authority of ministers which is pure,
      innocent, and without a shadow, and not only establishes it, but casts
      upon their administration the merit of actions which they have no hand in,
      as well as those of which they have.
    </p>
    <p>
      When the world saw that the Cardinal had apprehended the man who had
      lately brought the King back to Paris with inconceivable pride, men's
      imaginations were seized with an astonishing veneration. People thought
      themselves much obliged to the Minister that some were not sent to the
      Bastille every week; and the sweetness of his temper was sure to be
      commended whenever he had not an opportunity of doing them harm. It must
      be owned that he had the art of improving his good luck to the best
      advantage. He made use of all the outward appearances necessary to create
      a belief that he had been forced to take violent measures, and that the
      counsels of the Duc d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde had determined the
      Queen to reject his advice; the day following he seemed to be more
      moderate, civil, and frank than before; he gave free access to all;
      audiences were easily had, it was no more to dine with him than with a
      private gentleman. He had none of that grand air so common to the meaner
      cardinals. In short, though he was at the head of everybody, yet he
      managed as if he were only their companion. That which astonishes me most
      is that the princes and grandees of the kingdom, who, one might expect,
      would be more quick-sighted than the common people, were the most blinded.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde&mdash;the latter attached to the
      Court by his covetous temper&mdash;thought themselves above being
      rivalled; the Duke&mdash;[Henri de Bourbon, Duc d'Enghien, born 1646, died
      1686. We shall often speak of him in this history.]&mdash;was old enough
      to take his repose under the shadow of his laurels; M. de Nemours&mdash;[Charles
      Amadeus of Savoy, killed in a duel by M. de Beaufort, 1650.]&mdash;was but
      a child; M. de Guise, lately returned from Brussels, was governed by
      Madame de Pons, and thought to govern the whole Court; M. de Schomberg
      complied all his life long with the humour of those who were at the helm;
      M. de Grammont was a slave to them. The Parliament, being delivered from
      the tyranny of Richelieu, imagined the golden age was returning, being
      daily assured by the Prime Minister that the Queen would not take one step
      without them. The clergy, who are always great examples of slavish
      servitude themselves, preached it to others under the plausible title of
      passive obedience. Thus both clergy and laity were, in an instant, become
      the devotees of Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being ordered by my Lord Archbishop of Paris to take care of his diocese
      in his absence, my first business was, by the Queen's express command, to
      visit the Nuns of the Conception, where, knowing that there were above
      fourscore virgins, many of whom were very pretty and some coquettes, I was
      very loth to go for fear, of exposing my virtue to temptation; but I could
      not be excused, so I went, and preserved my virtue, to my neighbour's
      edification, because for six weeks together I did not see the face of any
      one of the nuns, nor talked to any of them but when their veils were down,
      which gave me a vast reputation for chastity. I continued to perform all
      the necessary functions in the diocese as far as the jealousy of my uncle
      would give me leave, and, forasmuch as he was generally so peevish that it
      was a very hard matter to please him, I at length chose to sit still and
      do nothing. Thus I made the best use imaginable of my uncle's ill-nature,
      being sure to convince him of my honest intentions upon all occasions;
      whereas had I been my own master, the rules of good conduct would have
      obliged me to confine myself to things in their own nature practicable.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal Mazarin confessed to me, many years afterwards, that this
      conduct of mine in managing the affairs of the diocese, though it did him
      no injury, was the first thing that made him jealous of my growing
      greatness in Paris. Another thing alarmed him with as little reason, and
      that was my undertaking to examine the capacity of all the priests of my
      diocese, a thing of inconceivable use and importance. For this end I
      erected three tribunals, composed of canons, curates, and men of religious
      orders, who were to reduce all the priests under three different classes,
      whereof the first was to consist of men well qualified, who were therefore
      to be left in the exercise of their functions; the second was to
      comprehend those who were not at present, but might in time prove able
      men; and the third of such men as were neither now nor ever likely to
      become so. The two last classes, being separated from the first, were not
      to exercise their functions, but were lodged in separate houses; those of
      the second class were instructed in the doctrine, but the third only in
      the practice of piety. As this could not but be very expensive, the good
      people opened their purses and contributed liberally. The Cardinal was so
      disturbed when he heard of it that he got the Queen to send for my uncle
      upon a frivolous occasion, who, for reasons as frivolous, ordered me to
      desist. Though I was very well informed, by my good friend the Almoner,
      that the blow came from Court, I bore it with a great deal more patience
      than was consistent with a man of my spirit, for I did not seem to take
      the least notice of it, but was as gracious to the Cardinal as ever. But I
      was not so wary in another case which happened some time after, for honest
      Morangis telling me I was too extravagant, which was but too true, I
      answered him rashly, "I have made a calculation that Caesar, when at my
      age, owed six times as much." This remark was carried, unluckily, by a
      doctor then present, to M. Servien, who told it maliciously to the
      Cardinal, who made a jest of it, as he had reason to do, but he took
      notice of it, for which I cannot blame him.
    </p>
    <p>
      In 1645 I was invited, as a diocesan, to the assembly of the clergy,
      which, I may truly say, was the rock whereon the little share of favour I
      had at Court was cast away. Cardinal de Richelieu had given a cruel blow
      to the dignity and liberty of the clergy in the assembly of Mantes, and,
      with very barbarous circumstances, had banished six of his most
      considerable prelates. It was resolved in this assembly of 1645 to make
      them some amends for their firmness on that occasion by inviting them to
      come and take their places&mdash;though they were not deputed&mdash;among
      their brethren. When this was first, proposed in the assembly, nobody
      dreamt that the Court would take offence at it, and it falling to my turn
      to speak first, I proposed the said resolution, as it had been concerted
      betwixt us before in private conversation, and it was unanimously approved
      of by the assembly.
    </p>
    <p>
      At my return home the Queen's purse-bearer came to me with an order to
      attend her Majesty forthwith, which I accordingly obeyed. When I came into
      her presence she said she could not have believed I would ever have been
      wanting in my duty to that degree as to wound the memory of the late King,
      her lord. I had such reasons to offer as she could not herself confute,
      and therefore referred me to the Cardinal, but I found he understood those
      things no better than her Majesty. He spoke to me with the haughtiest air
      in the world, refused to hear my justification, and commanded me in the
      King's name to retract publicly the next day in full assembly. You may
      imagine how difficult it was for me to resolve what to do. However, I did
      not break out beyond the bounds of modest respect, and, finding that my
      submission made no impression upon the Cardinal, I got the Bishop of
      Arles, a wise and moderate gentleman, to go to him along with me, and to
      join with me in offering our reasons. But we found his Eminence a very
      ignoramus in ecclesiastical polity. I only mention this to let you see
      that in my first misunderstanding with the Court I was not to blame, and
      that my respect for the Cardinal upon the Queen's account was carried to
      an excess of patience.
    </p>
    <p>
      Some months after, his profound ignorance and envenomed malice furnished
      me with a fresh occasion to exercise patience. The Bishop of Warmia, one
      of the ambassadors that came to fetch the Queen of Poland, was very
      desirous to celebrate the marriage in the Church of Notre-Dame. Though the
      archbishops of Paris never suffered solemnities of this kind to be
      celebrated in their churches by any but cardinals of the royal family, and
      though my uncle had been highly blamed by all his clergy for permitting
      the Cardinal de La Rochefoucault to marry the Queen of England,&mdash;[Henriette
      Marie of France, daughter of Henri IV., died 1669.]&mdash;nevertheless I
      was ordered by a 'lettre de cachet' to prepare the said Church of Notre
      Dame for the Bishop of Warmia, which order ran in the same style as that
      given to the 'prevot des marchands' when he is to prepare the Hotel de
      Ville for a public ball. I showed the letter to the deans and canons, and
      said I did not doubt but it was a stratagem of one or other of the
      Secretary of State's clerks to get a gift of money.
    </p>
    <p>
      I thereupon went to the Cardinal, pressed him with both reasons and
      precedents, and said that, as I was his particular humble servant, I hoped
      he would be pleased to lay them before her Majesty, making use of all
      other persuasion&mdash;which I thought would dispose him to a compliance.
      It was then that I learned that he only wanted an opportunity to embroil
      me with the Queen, for though I saw plainly that he was sorry he had given
      such orders before he knew their consequence, yet, after some pause, he
      reassumed his former obstinacy to the very last degree; and, because I
      spoke in the name of the Archbishop and of the whole Church of Paris, he
      stormed as much as if a private person upon his own authority had presumed
      to make a speech to him at the head of fifty malcontents. I endeavoured
      with all respect to show him that our case was quite different; but he was
      so ignorant of our manners and customs that he took everything by the
      wrong handle. He ended the conversation very abruptly and rudely, and
      referred me to the Queen. I found her Majesty in a fretful mood, and all I
      could get out of her was a promise to hear the chapter upon this affair,
      without whose consent&mdash;I had declared I could not conclude anything.
    </p>
    <p>
      I sent for them accordingly, and having introduced them to the Queen, they
      spoke very discreetly and to the purpose. The Queen sent us back to the
      Cardinal, who entertained us only with impertinences, and as he had but a
      superficial knowledge of the French language, he concluded by telling me
      that I had talked very insolently to him the night before. You may imagine
      that that word was enough to vex me, but having resolved beforehand to
      keep my temper, I smiled, and said to the deputies, "Gentlemen, this is
      fine language." He was nettled at my smile, and said to me in aloud tone,
      "Do you know whom you talk to? I will teach you how to behave." Now, I
      confess, my blood began to boil. I told him that the Coadjutor of Paris
      was talking to Cardinal Mazarin, but that perhaps he thought himself the
      Cardinal de Lorraine, and me the Bishop of Metz, his suffragan.
    </p>
    <p>
      Then we went away and met the Marechal d'Estrees coming up to us, who came
      to advise me not to break with the Court, and to tell me that things might
      be arranged; and when he found I was of another opinion, he told me in
      plain terms that he had orders from the Queen to oblige me to come to her.
      I went without more ado, accompanied by the deputies, and found her more
      gracious and better humoured than I am able to express. She told me that
      she had a mind to see me, not so much in relation to our affair, which
      might be easily accommodated, as to reprimand me for using such language
      to the poor Cardinal, who was as meek as a lamb, and loved me as his own
      son. She added all the kind things possible, and ordered the dean and
      deputies to go along with me to the Cardinal's house, that we might
      consult together what course to take. This was so much against my
      inclination that I gave the Queen to understand that no person in the
      world but her Majesty could have persuaded me to it.
    </p>
    <p>
      We found the Minister even milder than his mistress. He made a world of
      excuses for the word "insolent," by which he said, and perhaps it may be
      true, that he meant no more than 'insolito', a word signifying "somewhat
      uncommon." He showed me all the civility imaginable, but, instead of
      coming to any determination, put us off to another opportunity. A few days
      after, a letter was brought me at midnight from the Archbishop, commanding
      me to let the Bishop of Warmia perform the marriage without any more
      opposition.
    </p>
    <p>
      Had I been wise I should have stopped there, because a man ought in
      prudence to make his peace with the Court upon any terms consistent with
      honour. But I was young, and the more provoked because I perceived that
      all the fair words given me at Fontainebleau were but a feint to gain time
      to write about the affair to my uncle, then at Angers. However, I said
      nothing to the messenger, more than that I was glad my uncle had so well
      brought me off. The chapter being likewise served with the same order, we
      sent the Court this answer: That the Archbishop might do what he listed in
      the nave of the church, but that the choir belonged to the chapter, and
      they would yield it to no man but himself or his coadjutor. The Cardinal
      knew the meaning of this, and thereupon resolved to have the marriage
      solemnised in the Chapel Royal, whereof he said the Great Almoner was
      bishop. But this being a yet more important question than the other, I
      laid the inconveniences of it before him in a letter. This nettled him,
      and he made a mere jest of my letter. I gave the Queen of Poland to
      understand that, if she were married in that manner, I should be forced,
      even against my will, to declare the marriage void; but that there
      remained one expedient which would effectually remove all difficulties,&mdash;that
      the marriage might be performed in the King's Chapel, and should stand
      good provided that the Bishop of Warmia came to me for a license.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, resolving to lose no more time by awaiting new orders from
      Angers, and fearing the least flaw in her marriage, the Court was obliged
      to comply with my proposal, and the ceremony was performed accordingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      Not long after this marriage I was unhappily embroiled with the Duc
      d'Orleans, upon an occasion of no greater importance than my foot-cloth in
      the Church of Notre-Dame, which was by mistake removed to his seat. I
      complained of it to him, and he ordered it to be restored. Nevertheless
      the Abby de la Riviere made him believe I had put an affront upon him that
      was too public to be pardoned. The Duke was so simple as to believe it,
      and, while the courtiers turned all into banter, he swore he would receive
      incense before me at the said church for the future. In the meantime the
      Queen sent for me, and told me that the Duke was in a terrible passion,
      for which she was very sorry, but that nevertheless she could not help
      being of his opinion, and therefore insisted upon it that I ought to give
      him satisfaction in the Church of Notre-Dame the Sunday following. Upon
      the whole she referred me to Cardinal Mazarin, who declared to me at first
      that he was very sorry to see me in so much trouble, blamed the Abby for
      having incensed the Duke to such a degree, and used all the arguments he
      could to wheedle me to give my consent to being degraded. And when he saw
      I was not to be led, he endeavoured to drive me into the snare. He stormed
      with an air of authority, and would fain have bullied me into compliance,
      telling me that hitherto he had spoken as a friend, but that I had forced
      him henceforth to speak as a minister. He also began to threaten, and the
      conversation growing warm, he sought to pick a quarrel by insinuating that
      if I would do as Saint Ambrose did, I ought to lead a life like him. As he
      spoke this loud enough to be heard by some bishops at the other end of the
      room, I likewise raised my voice, and told him I would endeavour to make
      the best use of his advice, but he might assure himself I was fully
      resolved so to imitate Saint Ambrose in this affair that I might, through
      his means, obtain grace to be able to imitate him in all others.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had not been long gone home when the Marechal d'Estrees and M.
      Senneterre came, furnished with all the flowers of rhetoric, to persuade
      me that degradation was honourable; and finding me immovable, they
      insinuated that my obstinacy might oblige his Highness to use force, and
      order his guards to carry me, in spite of myself, to Notre-Dame, and place
      me there on a seat below his. I thought this suggestion too ridiculous to
      mind it at first, but being forewarned of it that very evening by the
      Duke's Chancellor, I put myself upon the defensive, which I think is the
      most ridiculous piece of folly I was ever guilty of, considering it was
      against a son of France, and when there was a profound tranquillity in the
      State, without the least appearance of any commotion. The Duke, to whom I
      had the honour of being related, was pleased with my boldness. He
      remembered the Abby de la Riviere for his insolence in complaining that
      the Prince de Conti was marked down for a cardinal before him; besides,
      the Duke knew I was in the right, having made it very evident in a
      statement I had published upon this head. He acquainted the Cardinal with
      it, said he would not suffer the least violence to be offered to me; that
      I was both his kinsman and devoted servant, and that he would not set out
      for the army till he saw the affair at an end.
    </p>
    <p>
      All the Court was in consternation for fear of a rupture, especially when
      the Prince de Conde had been informed by the Queen of what his son had
      said; and when he came to my house and found there sixty or eighty
      gentlemen, this made him believe that a league was already made with the
      Duke, but there was nothing in it. He swore, he threatened, he begged, he
      flattered, and in his transports he let fall some expressions which showed
      that the Duke was much more concerned for my interest than he ever yet
      owned to me. I submitted that very instant, and told the Prince that I
      would do anything rather than the royal family should be divided on my
      account. The Prince, who hitherto found me immovable, was so touched at my
      sudden surrender in complaisance to his son, at the very time, too, when
      he himself had just assured me I was to expect a powerful protection from
      him, that he suddenly changed his temper, so that, instead of thinking as
      he did at first, that there was no satisfaction great enough for the Duc
      d'Orleans, he now determined plainly in favour of the expedient I had so
      often proposed,&mdash;that I should go and declare to him, in the presence
      of the whole Court, that I never designed to be wanting in the respect I
      owed him, and that the orders of the Church had obliged me to act as I did
      at Notre-Dame. The Cardinal and the Abby de la Riviere were enraged to the
      last degree, but the Prince put them into such fear of the Duke that they
      were fain to submit. The Prince took me to the Duc d'Orleans's house,
      where I gave them satisfaction before the whole Court, precisely in the
      words above mentioned. His Highness was quite satisfied with my reasons,
      carried me to see his medals, and thus ended the controversy.
    </p>
    <p>
      As this affair and the marriage of the Queen of Poland had embroiled me
      with the Court, you may easily conceive what turn the courtiers gave to
      it. But here I found by experience that all the powers upon earth cannot
      hurt the reputation of a man who preserves it established and unspotted in
      the society whereof he is a member. All the learned clergy took my part,
      and I soon perceived that many of those who had before blamed my conduct
      now retracted. I made this observation upon a thousand other occasions. I
      even obliged the Court, some time after, to commend my proceedings, and
      took an opportunity to convince the Queen that it was my dignity, and not
      any want of respect and gratitude, that made me resist the Court in the
      two former cases. The Cardinal was very well pleased with me, and said in
      public that he found me as much concerned for the King's service as I was
      before for the honour of my character.
    </p>
    <p>
      It falling to my turn to make the speech at the breaking up of the
      assembly of the clergy at Paris, I had the good luck to please both the
      clergy and the Court. Cardinal Mazarin took me to supper with him alone,
      seemed to be clear of all prejudices against me, and I verily believe was
      fully persuaded that he had been imposed upon. But I was too much beloved
      in Paris to continue long in favour at Court. This was a crime that
      rendered me disagreeable in the eyes of a refined Italian statesman, and
      which was the more dangerous from the fact that I lost no opportunity of
      aggravating it by a natural and unaffected expense, to which my air of
      negligence gave a lustre, and by my great alms and bounty, which, though
      very often secret, had the louder echo; whereas, in truth, I had acted
      thus at first only in compliance with inclination and out of a sense of
      duty. But the necessity I was under of supporting myself against the Court
      obliged me to be yet more liberal. I do but just mention it here to show
      you that the Court was jealous of me, when I never thought myself capable
      of giving them the least occasion, which made me reflect that a man is
      oftener deceived by distrusting than by being overcredulous.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal Mazarin, who was born and bred in the Pope's dominions, where
      papal authority has no limits, took the impetus given to the regal power
      by his tutor, the Cardinal de Richelieu, to be natural to the body
      politic, which mistake of his occasioned the civil war, though we must
      look much higher for its prime cause.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is above 1,200 years that France has been governed by kings, but they
      were not as absolute at first as they are now. Indeed, their authority was
      never limited by written laws as are the Kings of England and Castile, but
      only moderated by received customs, deposited, as I may say, at first in
      the hands of the States of the kingdom, and afterwards in those of the
      Parliament. The registering of treaties with other Crowns and the
      ratifications of edicts for raising money are almost obliterated images of
      that wise medium between the exorbitant power of the Kings and the
      licentiousness of the people instituted by our ancestors. Wise and good
      Princes found that this medium was such a seasoning to their power as made
      it delightful to their people. On the other hand, weak and vicious Kings
      always hated it as an obstacle to all their extravagances. The history of
      the Sire de Joinville makes it evident that Saint Louis was an admirer of
      this scheme of government, and the writings of Oresme, Bishop of Lisieux,
      and of the famous Juvenal des Ursins, convince us that Charles V., who
      merited the surname of Wise, never thought his power to be superior to the
      laws and to his duty. Louis XI., more cunning than truly wise, broke his
      faith upon this head as well as all others. Louis XII. would have restored
      this balance of power to its ancient lustre if the ambition of Cardinal
      Amboise,&mdash;[George d'Amboise, the first of the name, in 1498 Minister
      to Louis XII., deceased 1510.]&mdash;who governed him absolutely, had not
      opposed it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The insatiable avarice of Constable Montmorency&mdash;[Anne de
      Montmorency, Constable of France in 1538, died 1567.]&mdash;tended rather
      to enlarge than restrain the authority of Francois I. The extended views
      and vast designs of M. de Guise would not permit them to think of placing
      bounds to the prerogative under Francois II. In the reigns of Charles IX.
      and Henri III. the Court was so fatigued with civil broils that they took
      everything for rebellion which was not submission. Henri IV., who was not
      afraid of the laws, because he trusted in himself, showed he had a high
      esteem for them. The Duc de Rohan used to say that Louis XIII. was jealous
      of his own authority because he was ignorant of its full extent, for the
      Marechal d'Ancrel and M. de Luynes were mere dunces, incapable of
      informing him. Cardinal de Richelieu, who succeeded them, collected all
      the wicked designs and blunders of the two last centuries to serve his
      grand purpose. He laid them down as proper maxims for establishing the
      King's authority, and, fortune seconding his designs by the disarming of
      the Protestants in France, by the victories of the Swedes, by the weakness
      of the Empire and of Spain, he established the most scandalous and
      dangerous tyranny that perhaps ever enslaved a State in the best
      constituted monarchy under the sun.
    </p>
    <p>
      Custom, which has in some countries inured men even to broil as it were in
      the heat of the sun, has made things familiar to us which our forefathers
      dreaded more than fire itself. We no longer feel the slavery which they
      abhorred more for the interest of their King than for their own. Cardinal
      de Richelieu counted those things crimes which before him were looked upon
      as virtues. The Mirons, Harlays, Marillacs, Pibracs, and the Fayes, those
      martyrs of the State who dispelled more factions by their wholesome maxims
      than were raised in France by Spanish or British gold, were defenders of
      the doctrine for which the Cardinal de Richelieu confined President
      Barillon in the prison of Amboise. And the Cardinal began to punish
      magistrates for advancing those truths which they were obliged by their
      oaths to defend at the hazard of their lives.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our wise Kings, who understood their true interest, made the Parliament
      the depositary of their ordinances, to the end that they might exempt
      themselves from part of the odium that sometimes attends the execution of
      the most just and necessary decrees. They thought it no disparagement to
      their royalty to be bound by them,&mdash;like unto God, who himself obeys
      the laws he has preordained. ['A good government: where the people obey
      their king and the king obeys the law'&mdash;Solon. D.W.] Ministers of
      State, who are generally so blinded by the splendour of their fortune as
      never to be content with what the laws allow, make it their business to
      overturn them; and Cardinal de Richelieu laboured at it more constantly
      than any other, and with equal application and imprudence.
    </p>
    <p>
      God only is self-existent and independent; the most rightful monarchs and
      established monarchies in the world cannot possibly be supported but by
      the conjunction of arms and laws,&mdash;a union so necessary that the one
      cannot subsist without the other. Laws without the protection of arms sink
      into contempt, and arms which are not tempered by laws quickly turn a
      State into anarchy. The Roman commonwealth being set aside by Julius
      Caesar, the supreme power which was devolved upon his successors by force
      of arms subsisted no longer than they were able to maintain the authority
      of the laws; for as soon as the laws lost their force, the power of the
      Roman Emperors vanished, and the very men that were their favourites,
      having got possession of their seals and their arms, converted their
      masters' substance into their own, and, as it were, sucked them dry under
      the shelter of those repealed laws. The Roman Empire, formerly sold by
      auction to the highest bidder, and the Turkish emperors, whose necks are
      exposed every day to the bowstring, show us in very bloody characters the
      blindness of those men that make authority to consist only in force.
    </p>
    <p>
      But why need we go abroad for examples when we have so many at home?
      Pepin, in dethroning the Merovingian family, and Capet, in dispossessing
      the Carlovingians, made use of nothing else but the same power which the
      ministers, their predecessors, had acquired under the authority of their
      masters; and it is observable that the mayors of the Palace and the counts
      of Paris placed themselves on the thrones of kings exactly by the same
      methods that gained them their masters' favours,&mdash;that is, by
      weakening and changing the laws of the land, which at first always pleases
      weak princes, who fancy it aggrandises their power; but in its consequence
      it gives a power to the great men and motives to the common people to
      rebel against their authority. Cardinal de Richelieu was cunning enough to
      have all these views, but he sacrificed everything to his interest. He
      would govern according to his own fancy, which scorned to be tied to
      rules, even in cases where it would have cost him nothing to observe them.
      And he acted his part so well that, if his successor had been a man of his
      abilities, I doubt not that the title of Prime Minister, which he was the
      first to assume, would have been as odious in France in a little time as
      were those of the Maire du Palais and the Comte de Paris. But by the
      providence of God, Cardinal Mazarin, who succeeded him, was not capable of
      giving the State any jealousy of his usurpation. As these two ministers
      contributed chiefly, though in a different way, to the civil war, I judge
      it highly necessary to give you the particular character of each, and to
      draw a parallel between them.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="p100j" id="p100j"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="p100j.jpg (76K)" src="images/p100j.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal de Richelieu was well descended; his merit sparkled even in his
      youth. He was taken notice of at the Sorbonne, and it was very soon
      observed that he had a strong genius and a lively fancy. He was commonly
      happy in the choice of his parties. He was a man of his word, unless great
      interests swayed him to the contrary, and in such a case he was very
      artful to preserve all the appearances of probity. He was not liberal, yet
      he gave more than he promised, and knew admirably well how to season all
      his favours. He was more ambitious than was consistent with the rules of
      morality, although it must be owned that, whenever he dispensed with them
      in favour of his extravagant ambition, his great merit made it almost
      excusable. He neither feared dangers nor yet despised them, and prevented
      more by his sagacity than he surmounted by his resolution. He was a hearty
      friend, and even wished to be beloved by the people; but though he had
      civility, a good aspect, and all the other qualifications to gain that
      love, yet he still wanted something&mdash;I know not what to call it&mdash;which
      is absolutely necessary in this case. By his power and royal state he
      debased and swallowed up the personal majesty of the King. He
      distinguished more judiciously than any man in the world between bad and
      worse, good and better, which is a great qualification in a minister. He
      was too apt to be impatient at mere trifles when they had relation to
      things of moment; but those blemishes, owing to his lofty spirit, were
      always accompanied with the necessary talent of knowledge to make amends
      for those imperfections. He had religion enough for this world. His own
      good sense, or else his inclination, always led him to the practice of
      virtue if his self-interest did not bias him to evil, which, whenever he
      committed it, he did so knowingly. He extended his concern for the State
      no further than his own life, though no minister ever did more than he to
      make the world believe he had the same regard for the future. In a word,
      all his vices were such that they received a lustre from his great
      fortune, because they were such as could have no other instruments to work
      with but great virtues. You will easily conceive that a man who possessed
      such excellent qualities, and appeared to have as many more,&mdash;which
      he had not,&mdash;found it no hard task to preserve that respect among
      mankind which freed him from contempt, though not from hatred.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal Mazarin's character was the reverse of the former; his birth was
      mean, and his youth scandalous. He was thrashed by one Moretto, a
      goldsmith of Rome, as he was going out of the amphitheatre, for having
      played the sharper. He was a captain in a foot regiment, and Bagni, his
      general, told me that while he was under his command, which was but three
      months, he was only looked upon as a cheat. By the interest of Cardinal
      Antonio Barberini, he was sent as Nuncio Extraordinary to France, which
      office was not obtained in those days by fair means. He so tickled
      Chavigni by his loose Italian stories that he was shortly after introduced
      to Cardinal de Richelieu, who made him Cardinal with the same view which,
      it is thought, determined the Emperor Augustus to leave the succession of
      the Empire to Tiberius. He was still Richelieu's obsequious, humble
      servant, notwithstanding the purple. The Queen making choice of him, for
      want of another, his pedigree was immediately derived from a princely
      family. The rays of fortune having dazzled him and everybody about him, he
      rose, and they glorified him for a second Richelieu, whom he had the
      impudence to ape, though he had nothing of him; for what his predecessor
      counted honourable he esteemed scandalous. He made a mere jest of
      religion. He promised everything without scruple; at the same time he
      intended to perform nothing. He was neither good-natured nor cruel, for he
      never remembered either good offices or bad ones. He loved himself too
      well, which is natural to a sordid soul; and feared himself too little,
      the true characteristic of those that have no regard for their reputation.
      He foresaw an evil well enough, because he was usually timid, but never
      applied a suitable remedy, because he had more fear than wisdom. He had
      wit, indeed, together with a most insinuating address and a gay, courtly
      behaviour; but a villainous heart appeared constantly through all, to such
      a degree as betrayed him to be a fool in adversity and a knave in
      prosperity. In short, he was the first minister that could be called a
      complete trickster, for which reason his administration, though successful
      and absolute, never sat well upon him, for contempt&mdash;the most
      dangerous disease of any State&mdash;crept insensibly into the Ministry
      and easily diffused its poison from the head to the members.
    </p>
    <p>
      You will not wonder, therefore, that there were so many unlucky cross rubs
      in an administration which so soon followed that of Cardinal de Richelieu
      and was so different from it. It is certain that the imprisonment of M. de
      Beaufort impressed the people with a respect for Mazarin, which the lustre
      of his purple would never have procured from private men. Ondedei (since
      Bishop of Frejus) told me that the Cardinal jested with him upon the
      levity of the French nation on this point, and that at the end of four
      months the Cardinal had set himself up in his own opinion for a Richelieu,
      and even thought he had greater abilities. It would take up volumes to
      record all his faults, the least of which were very important in one
      respect which deserves a particular remark. As he trod in the steps of
      Cardinal de Richelieu, who had completely abolished all the ancient maxims
      of government, he went in a path surrounded with precipices, which
      Richelieu was aware of and took care to avoid. But Cardinal Mazarin made
      no use of those props by which Richelieu kept his footing. For instance,
      though Cardinal de Richelieu affected to humble whole bodies and
      societies, yet he studied to oblige individuals, which is sufficient to
      give you an idea of all the rest. He had indeed some unaccountable
      illusions, which he pushed to the utmost extremity. The most dangerous
      kind of illusion in State affairs is a sort of lethargy that never happens
      without showing pronounced symptoms. The abolishing of ancient laws, the
      destruction of that golden medium which was established between the Prince
      and the people, and the setting up a power purely and absolutely despotic,
      were the original causes of those political convulsions which shook France
      in the days of our forefathers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal de Richelieu managed the kingdom as mountebanks do their
      patients, with violent remedies which put strength into it; but it was
      only a convulsive strength, which exhausted its vital organs. Cardinal
      Mazarin, like a very unskilful physician, did not observe that the vital
      organs were decayed, nor had he the skill to support them by the chemical
      preparations of his predecessor; his only remedy was to let blood, which
      he drew so plentifully that the patient fell into a lethargy, and our
      medicaster was yet so stupid as to mistake this lethargy for a real state
      of health. The provinces, abandoned to the rapine of the superintendents,
      were stifled, as it were, under the pressure of their heavy misfortunes,
      and the efforts they made to shake them off in the time of Richelieu added
      only to their weight and bitterness. The Parliaments, which had so lately
      groaned under tyranny, were in a manner insensible to present miseries by
      a too fresh and lively remembrance of their past troubles. The grandees,
      who had for the most part been banished from the kingdom, were glad to
      have returned, and therefore took their fill of ease and pleasure. If our
      quack had but humoured this universal indolence with soporifics, the
      general drowsiness might have continued much longer, but thinking it to be
      nothing but natural sleep, he applied no remedy at all. The disease gained
      strength, grew worse and worse, the patient awakened, Paris became
      sensible of her condition; she groaned, but nobody minded it, so that she
      fell into a frenzy, whereupon the patient became raving mad.
    </p>
    <p>
      But now to come to particulars. Emeri, Superintendent of the Finances, and
      in my opinion the most corrupt man of the age, multiplied edicts as fast
      as he could find names to call them by. I cannot give you a better idea of
      the man than by repeating what I heard him say in full Council,&mdash;that
      faith was for tradesmen only, and that the Masters of Requests who urged
      faith to be observed in the King's affairs deserved to be punished. This
      man, who had in his youth been condemned to be hanged at Lyons, absolutely
      governed Mazarin in all the domestic affairs of the kingdom. I mention
      this, among many other instances which I could produce of the same nature,
      to let you see that a nation does not feel the extremity of misery till
      its governors have lost all shame, because that is the instant when the
      subjects throw off all respect and awake convulsively out of their
      lethargy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Swiss seemed, as it were, crushed under the weight of their chains,
      when three of their powerful cantons revolted and formed themselves into a
      league. The Dutch thought of nothing but an entire subjection to the
      tyrant Duke of Alva, when the Prince of Orange, by the peculiar destiny of
      great geniuses, who see further into the future than all the world
      besides, conceived a plan and restored their liberty. The reason of all
      this is plain: that which causes a supineness in suffering States is the
      duration of the evil, which inclines the sufferers to believe it will
      never have an end; as soon as they have hopes of getting out of it, which
      never fails when the evil has arrived at a certain pitch, they are so
      surprised, so glad, and so transported, that they run all of a sudden into
      the other extreme, and are so far from thinking revolutions impossible
      that they suppose them easy, and such a disposition alone is sometimes
      able to bring them about; witness the late revolution in France. Who could
      have imagined, three months before the critical period of our disorders,
      that such a revolution could have happened in a kingdom where all the
      branches of the royal family were strictly united, where the Court was a
      slave to the Prime Minister, where the capital city and all the provinces
      were in subjection to him, where the armies were victorious, and where the
      corporations and societies seemed to have no power?&mdash;whoever, I say,
      had said this would have been thought a madman, not only in the judgment
      of the vulgar, but in the opinion of a D'Estrees or a Senneterre.
    </p>
    <p>
      In August, 1647, there was a mighty clamour against the tariff edict
      imposing a general tax upon all provisions that came into Paris, which the
      people were resolved to bear no longer. But the gentlemen of the Council
      being determined to support it, the Queen consulted the members deputed
      from Parliament, when Cardinal Mazarin, a mere ignoramus in these affairs,
      said he wondered that so considerable a body as they were should mind such
      trifles,&mdash;an expression truly worthy of Mazarin. However, the Council
      at length imagining the Parliament would do it, thought fit to suppress
      the tariff themselves by a declaration, in order to save the King's
      credit. Nevertheless, a few days after, they presented five edicts even
      more oppressive than the tariff, not with any hopes of having them
      received, but to force the Parliament to restore the tariff. Rather than
      admit the new ones, the Parliament consented to restore the old one, but
      with so many qualifications that the Court, despairing to find their
      account in it, published a decree of the Supreme Council annulling that of
      the Parliament with all its modifications. But the Chamber of Vacations
      answered it by another, enjoining the decree of Parliament to be put in
      execution. The Council, seeing they could get no money by this method,
      acquainted the Parliament that, since they would receive no new edicts,
      they could do no less than encourage the execution of such edicts as they
      had formerly ratified; and thereupon they trumped up a declaration which
      had been registered two years before for the establishment of the Chamber
      of Domain, which was a terrible charge upon the people, had very
      pernicious consequences, and which the Parliament had passed, either
      through a surprise or want of better judgment. The people mutinied, went
      in crowds to the Palace, and used very abusive language to the President
      de Thore, Emeri's son. The Parliament was obliged to pass a decree against
      the mutineers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court, overjoyed to see the Parliament and the people together by the
      ears, supported the decree by a regiment of French and Swiss Guards. The
      Parisians were alarmed, and got into the belfries of three churches in the
      street of Saint Denis, where the guards were posted. The Provost ran to
      acquaint the Court that the city was just taking arms. Upon which they
      ordered the troops to retire, and pretended they were posted there for no
      other end than to attend the King as he went to the Church of Notre Dame;
      and the better to cover their design, the King went next day in great pomp
      to the said church, and the day after he went to Parliament, without
      giving notice of his coming till very late the night before, and carried
      with him five or six edicts more destructive than the former. The First
      President spoke very boldly against bringing the King into the House after
      this manner, to surprise the members and infringe upon their liberty of
      voting. Next day the Masters of Requests, to whom one of these edicts,
      confirmed in the King's presence, had added twelve colleagues, met and
      took a firm resolution not to admit of this new creation. The Queen sent
      for them, told them they were very pretty gentlemen to oppose the King's
      will, and forbade them to come to Council. Instead of being frightened,
      they were the more provoked, and, going into the Great Hall, demanded that
      they might have leave to enter their protest against the edict for
      creating new members, which was granted.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Chambers being assembled the same day to examine the edicts which the
      King had caused to be ratified in his presence, the Queen commanded them
      to attend her by their deputies in the Palais Royal, and told them she was
      surprised that they pretended to meddle with what had been consecrated by
      the presence of the King. These were the very words of the Chancellor. The
      First President answered that it was the custom of Parliament, and showed
      the necessity of it for preserving the liberty of voting. The Queen seemed
      to be satisfied; but, finding some days after that the Parliament was
      consulting as to qualifying those edicts, and so render them of little or
      no use, she ordered the King's Council to forbid the Parliament meddling
      with the King's edicts till they had declared formally whether they
      intended to limit the King's authority. Those members that were in the
      Court interest artfully took advantage of the dilemma the Parliament was
      in to answer the question, and, in order to mollify them, tacked a clause
      to the decrees which specified the restrictions, namely, that all should
      be executed according to the good pleasure of the King. This clause
      pleased the Queen for a while, but when she perceived that it did not
      prevent the rejecting of almost any other edict by the common suffrage of
      the Parliament, she flew into a passion, and told them plainly that she
      would have all the edicts, without exception, fully executed, without any
      modifications whatsoever.
    </p>
    <p>
      Not long after this, the Court of Aids, the Chamber of Accounts, the Grand
      Council, and the Parliament formed a union which was pretended to be for
      the reformation of the State, but was more probably calculated for the
      private interest of the officers, whose salaries were lessened by one of
      the said edicts. And the Court, being alarmed and utterly perplexed by the
      decree for the said union, endeavoured, as much as in them lay, to give it
      this turn, to make the people have a mean opinion of it. The Queen
      acquainted the Parliament by some of the King's Council that, seeing this
      union was entered into for the particular interest of the companies, and
      not for the reformation of the State, as they endeavoured to persuade her,
      she had nothing to say to it, as everybody is at liberty to represent his
      case to the King, but never to intermeddle with the government of the
      State.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament did not relish this ensnaring discourse, and because they
      were exasperated by the Court's apprehending some of the members of the
      Grand Council, they thought of nothing but justifying and supporting their
      decree of union by finding out precedents, which they accordingly met with
      in the registers, and were going to consider how to put it in execution
      when one of the Secretaries of State came to the bar of the house, and put
      into the hands of the King's Council a decree of the Supreme Council
      which, in very truculent terms, annulled that of the union. Upon this the
      Parliament desired a meeting with the deputies of the other three bodies,
      at which the Court was enraged, and had recourse to the mean expedient of
      getting the very original decree of union out of the hands of the chief
      registrar; for that end they sent the Secretary of State and a lieutenant
      of the Guards, who put him into a coach to drive him to the office, but
      the people perceiving it, were up in arms immediately, and both the
      secretary and lieutenant were glad to get off.
    </p>
    <p>
      After this there was a great division in the Council, and some said the
      Queen was disposed to arrest the Parliament; but none but herself was of
      that opinion, which, indeed, was not likely to be acted upon, considering
      how the people then stood affected. Therefore a more moderate course was
      taken. The Chancellor reprimanded the Parliament in the presence of the
      King and Court, and ordered a second decree of Council to be read and
      registered instead of the union decree, forbidding them to assemble under
      pain of being treated as rebels. They met, nevertheless, in defiance of
      the said decree, and had several days' consultation, upon which the Duc
      d'Orleans, who was very sensible they would never comply, proposed an
      accommodation. Accordingly Cardinal Mazarin and the Chancellor made some
      proposals, which were rejected with indignation. The Parliament affected
      to be altogether concerned for the good of the public, and issued a decree
      obliging themselves to continue their session and to make humble
      remonstrances to the King for annulling the decrees of the Council.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King's Council having obtained audience of the Queen for the
      Parliament, the First President strenuously urged the great necessity of
      inviolably preferring that golden mean between the King and the subject;
      proved that the Parliament had been for many ages in possession of full
      authority to unite and assemble; complained against the annulling of their
      decree of union, and concluded with a very earnest motion for suppressing
      decrees of the Supreme Council made in opposition to theirs. The Court,
      being moved more by the disposition of the people than by the
      remonstrances of the Parliament, complied immediately, and ordered the
      King's Council to acquaint the Parliament that the King would permit the
      act of union to be executed, and that they might assemble and act in
      concert with the other bodies for the good of the State.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may judge how the Cabinet was mortified, but the vulgar were much
      mistaken in thinking that the weakness of Mazarin upon this occasion gave
      the least blow to the royal authority. In that conjuncture it was
      impossible for him to act otherwise, for if he had continued inflexible on
      this occasion he would certainly have been reckoned a madman and
      surrounded with barricades. He only yielded to the torrent, and yet most
      people accused him of weakness. It is certain this affair brought him into
      great contempt, and though he endeavoured to appease the people by the
      banishment of Emeri, yet the Parliament, perceiving what ascendancy they
      had over the Court, left no stone unturned to demolish the power of this
      overgrown favourite.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, made desperate by the failure of his stratagems to create
      jealousy among the four bodies, and alarmed at a proposition which they
      were going to make for cancelling all the loans made to the King upon
      excessive interest,&mdash;the Cardinal, I say, being quite mad with rage
      and grief at these disappointments, and set on by courtiers who had most
      of their stocks in these loans, made the King go on horseback to the
      Parliament House in great pomp, and carry a wheedling declaration with
      him, which contained some articles very advantageous to the public, and a
      great many others very ambiguous. But the people were so jealous of the
      Court that he went without the usual acclamations. The declaration was
      soon after censured by the Parliament and the other bodies, though the Duc
      d'Orleans exhorted and prayed that they would not meddle with it, and
      threatened them if they did.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament also passed a decree declaring that no money should be
      raised without verified declarations, which so provoked the Court that
      they resolved to proceed to extremities, and to make use of the signal
      victory which was obtained at Lens on the 24th of August, 1648, to dazzle
      the eyes of the people and gain their consent to oppressing the
      Parliament.
    </p>
    <p>
      All the humours of the State were so disturbed by the great troubles at
      Paris, the fountainhead, that I foresaw a fever would be the certain
      consequence, because the physician had not the skill to prevent it. As I
      owed the coadjutorship of the archbishopric to the Queen, I thought it my
      duty in every circumstance to sacrifice my resentment, and even the
      probability of glory, to gratitude; and notwithstanding all the
      solicitations of Montresor and Laigues, I made a firm resolution to stick
      close to my own business and not to engage in anything that was either
      said or done against the Court at that time. Montresor had been brought up
      from his youth in the faction of the Duc d'Orleans, and, having more wit
      than courage, was so much the more dangerous an adviser in great affairs;
      men of this cast only suggest measures and leave them to be executed by
      others. Laigues, on the other hand, who was entirely governed by
      Montresor, had not much brains, but was all bravery and feared nothing;
      men of this character dare do anything they are set upon by those who
      confide in them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Finding that my innocence and integrity gained me no friends at Court, and
      that I had nothing to expect from the Minister, who mortally hated me, I
      resolved to be upon my guard, by acting in respect to the Court with as
      much freedom as zeal and sincerity; and in respect to the city, by
      carefully preserving my friends, and doing everything necessary to get,
      or, rather, to keep, the love of the people. To maintain my interest in
      the city, I laid out 36,000 crowns in alms and other bounties, from the
      26th of March to the 25th of August, 1648; and to please the Court I told
      the Queen and Cardinal how the Parisians then stood affected, which they
      never knew before, through flattery and prejudice. I also complained to
      the Queen of the Cardinal's cunning and dissimulation, and made use of the
      same intimations which I had given to the Court to show the Parliament
      that I had done all in my power to clearly inform the Ministry of
      everything and to disperse the clouds always cast over their
      understandings by the interest of inferior officers and the flattery of
      courtiers. This made the Cardinal break with me and thwart me openly at
      every opportunity, insomuch that when I was telling the Queen in his
      presence that the people in general were so soured that nothing but
      lenitives could abate their rancour, he answered me with the Italian fable
      of the wolf who swore to a flock of sheep that he would protect them
      against all his comrades provided one of them would come every morning and
      lick a wound he had received from a dog. He entertained me with the like
      witticisms three or four months together, of which this was one of the
      most favourable, whereupon I made these reflections that it was more
      unbecoming a Minister of State to say silly things than to do them, and
      that any advice given him was criminal.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal pretended that the success of the King's arms at Lens had so
      mortified the Court that the Parliament and the other bodies, who expected
      they would take a sharp revenge on them for their late conduct, would have
      the great satisfaction of being disappointed. I own I was fool enough to
      believe him, and was perfectly transported at the thought; but with what
      sincerity the Cardinal spoke will appear by and by.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 26th of August, 1648, the worthy Broussel, councillor of the Grand
      Chamber, and Rene Potier, Sieur de Blancmenil, President of the Inquests,
      were both arrested by the Queen's officers. It is impossible to express
      the sudden consternation of all men, women, and children in Paris at this
      proceeding. The people stared at one another for awhile without saying a
      word. But this profound silence was suddenly attended with a confused
      noise of running, crying, and shutting up of shops, upon which I thought
      it my duty to go and wait upon the Queen, though I was sorely vexed to see
      how my credulity had been abused but the night before at Court, when I was
      desired to tell all my friends in Parliament that the victory of Lens had
      only disposed the Court more and more to leniency and moderation. When I
      came to the New Market, on my way to Court, I was surrounded with swarms
      of people making a frightful outcry, and had great difficulty in getting
      through the crowd till I had told them the Queen would certainly do them
      justice. The very boys hissed the soldiers of the Guard and pelted them
      with stones. Their commander, the Marechal de La Meilleraye, perceiving
      the clouds began to thicken on all sides, was overjoyed to see me, and
      would go with me to Court and tell the whole truth of the matter to the
      Queen. The people followed us in vast numbers, calling out, "Broussel,
      Broussel!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, whom we found in her Cabinet Council with Mazarin and others,
      received me neither well nor ill, was too proud and too much out of temper
      to confess any shame for what she had told me the night before, and the
      Cardinal had not modesty enough to blush. Nevertheless he seemed very much
      confused, and gave some obscure hints by which I could perceive he would
      have me to believe that there were very sudden and extraordinary reasons
      which had obliged the Queen to take such measures. I simulated approval of
      what he said, but all the answer I returned was that I had come thither,
      as in duty bound, to receive the Queen's orders and to contribute all in
      my power to restore the public peace and tranquillity. The Queen gave a
      gracious nod, but I understood afterwards that she put a sinister
      interpretation upon my last speech, which was nevertheless very
      inoffensive and perfectly consonant to my character as Coadjutor of Paris;
      but it is a true saying that in the Courts of princes a capacity of doing
      good is as dangerous and almost as criminal as a will to do mischief.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marechal de La Meilleraye, finding that the Abbe de la Riviere and
      others made mere jest and banter of the insurrection, fell into a great
      passion, spoke very sharply, and appealed to me. I freely gave my
      testimony, confirmed his account of the insurrection, and seconded him in
      his reflections upon the future consequences. We had no other return from
      the Cardinal than a malicious sneer, but the Queen lifted up her shrill
      voice to the highest note of indignation, and expressed herself to this
      effect: "It is a sign of disaffection to imagine that the people are
      capable of revolting. These are ridiculous stories that come from persons
      who talk as they would have it; the King's authority will set matters
      right."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, perceiving that I was a little nettled, endeavoured to
      soothe me by this address to the Queen: "Would to God, madame, that all
      men did but talk with the same sincerity as the Coadjutor of Paris. He is
      greatly concerned for his flock, for the city, and for your Majesty's
      authority, and though I am persuaded that the danger is not so great as he
      imagines, yet his scruples in this case are to be commended in him as
      laudable and religious." The Queen understood the meaning of this cant,
      recovered herself all of a sudden, and spoke to me very civilly; to which
      I answered with profound respect and so innocent a countenance that La
      Riviere said, whispering to Beautru, "See what it is not to be always at
      Court! The Coadjutor knows the world and is a man of sense, yet takes all
      the Queen has said to be in earnest."
    </p>
    <p>
      The truth is, the Cabinet seemed to consist of persons acting the several
      parts of a comedy. I played the innocent, but was not so, at least in that
      affair. The Cardinal acted the part of one who thought himself secure, but
      was much less confident than he appeared. The Queen affected to be
      good-humoured, and yet was never more ill-tempered. M. de Longueville put
      on the marks of sorrow and sadness while his heart leaped for joy, for no
      man living took a greater pleasure than he to promote all broils. The Duc
      d'Orleans personated hurry and, passion in speaking to the Queen, yet
      would whistle half an hour together with the utmost indolence. The
      Marechal de Villeroy put on gaiety, the better to make his court to the
      Prime Minister, though he privately owned to me, with tears in his eyes,
      that he saw the State was upon the brink of ruin. Beautru and Nogent acted
      the part of buffoons, and to please the Queen, personated old Broussel's
      nurse (for he was eighty years of age), stirring up the people to
      sedition, though both of them knew well enough that their farce might
      perhaps soon end in a real tragedy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Abby de la Riviere was the only man who pretended to be fully
      persuaded that the insurrection of the people was but vapour, and he
      maintained it to the Queen, who was willing to believe him, though she had
      been satisfied to the contrary; and the conduct of the Queen, who had the
      courage of a heroine, and the temper of La Riviere, who was the most
      notorious poltroon of his time, furnished me with this remark: That a
      blind rashness and an extravagant fear produce the same effects while the
      danger is unknown.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marechal de La Meilleraye assumed the style and bravado of a captain
      when a lieutenant-colonel of the Guards suddenly came to tell the Queen
      that the citizens threatened to force the Guards, and, being naturally
      hasty and choleric, was transported even with fury and madness. He cried
      out that he would perish rather than suffer such insolence, and asked
      leave to take the Guards, the officers of the Household, and even all the
      courtiers he could find in the antechambers, with whom he would engage to
      rout the whole mob. The Queen was greatly in favour of it, but nobody
      else, and events proved that it was well they did not come into it. At the
      same time entered the Chancellor, a man who had never spoken a word of
      truth in his whole life; but now, his complaisance yielding to his fear,
      he spoke directly according to what he had seen in the streets. I observed
      that the Cardinal was startled at the boldness of a man in whom he had
      never seen anything like it before. But Senneterre, coming in just after
      him, removed all their apprehensions in a trice by assuring them that the
      fury of the people began to cool, that they did not take arms, and that
      with a little patience all would be well again.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is nothing so dangerous as flattery at a juncture where he that is
      flattered is in fear, because the desire he has not to be terrified
      inclines him to believe anything that hinders him from applying any remedy
      to what he is afraid of. The news that was brought every moment made them
      trifle away that time which should have been employed for the preservation
      of the State. Old Guitaut, a man of no great sense, but heartily well
      affected, was more impatient than all the rest, and said that he did not
      conceive how it was possible for people to be asleep in the present state
      of affairs; he muttered something more which I could not well hear, but it
      seemed to bear very hard upon the Cardinal, who owed him no goodwill.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal answered, "Well, M. Guitaut, what would you have us do?"
    </p>
    <p>
      Guitaut said, very bluntly, "Let the old rogue Broussel be restored to the
      people, either dead or alive."
    </p>
    <p>
      I said that to restore him dead was inconsistent with the Queen's piety
      and prudence, but to restore him alive would probably put a stop to the
      tumult.
    </p>
    <p>
      At these words the Queen reddened, and cried aloud, "I understand you, M.
      le Coadjutor. You would have me set Broussel at liberty; but I will
      strangle him sooner with these hands,"&mdash;throwing her head as it were
      into my face at the last word, "and those who&mdash;"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, believing that she was going to say all to me that rage
      could inspire, advanced and whispered in her ear, upon which she became
      composed to such a degree that, had I not known her too well, I should
      have thought her at her ease. The lieutenant de police came that instant
      into the Cabinet with a deadly pale aspect. I never saw fear so well and
      ridiculously represented in any Italian comedy as the fright which he
      appeared in before the Queen. How admirable is the sympathy of fearful
      souls! Neither the Cardinal nor the Queen were much moved at what M. de La
      Meilleraye had strongly urged on them, but the fears of the lieutenant
      seized them like an infection, so that they were all on a sudden
      metamorphosed. They ridiculed me no longer, and suffered it to be debated
      whether or no it was expedient to restore Broussel to the people before
      they took arms, as they had threatened to do. Here I reflected that it is
      more natural to the passion of fear to consult than to determine.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal proposed that I, as the fittest person, should go and assure
      the people that the Queen would consent to the restoration of Broussel,
      provided they would disperse. I saw the snare, but could not get away from
      it, the rather because Meilleraye dragged me, as it were, to go along with
      him,&mdash;telling her Majesty that he would dare to appear in the streets
      in my company, and that he did not question but we should do wonders. I
      said that I did not doubt it either, provided the Queen would order a
      promise to be drawn in due form for restoring the prisoners, because I had
      not credit enough with the people to be believed upon my bare word. They
      praised my modesty, Meilleraye was assured of success, and they said the
      Queen's word was better than all writings whatsoever. In a word, I was
      made the catspaw, and found myself under the necessity of acting the most
      ridiculous part that perhaps ever fell to any man's share. I endeavoured
      to reply; but the Duc d'Orleans pushed me out gently with both hands,
      saying, "Go and restore peace to the State;" and the Marshal hurried me
      away, the Life-guards carrying me along in their arms, and telling me that
      none but myself could remedy this evil. I went out in my rochet and
      camail, dealing out benedictions to the people on my right and left,
      preaching obedience, exerting all my endeavours to appease the tumult, and
      telling them the Queen had assured me that, provided they would disperse,
      she would restore Broussel.
    </p>
    <p>
      The violence of the Marshal hardly gave me time to express myself, for he
      instantly put himself at the head of the Horse-guards, and, advancing
      sword in hand, cried aloud, "God bless the King, and liberty to Broussel!"
      but being seen more than he was heard, his drawn sword did more harm than
      his proclaiming liberty to Broussel did good. The people took to their
      arms and had an encounter with the Marshal, upon which I threw myself into
      the crowd, and expecting that both sides would have some regard to my
      robes and dignity, the Marshal ordered the Light-horse to fire no more,
      and the citizens with whom he was engaged held their hands; but others of
      them continued firing and throwing stones, by one of which I was knocked
      down, and had no sooner got up than a citizen was going to knock me down
      with a musket. Though I did not know his name, yet I had the presence of
      mind to cry out, "Forbear, wretch; if thy father did but see thee&mdash;"
      He thereupon concluded I knew his father very well, though I had never
      seen him; and I believe that made him the more curious to survey me, when,
      taking particular notice of my robes, he asked me if I was the Coadjutor.
      Upon which I was presently made known to the whole body, followed by the
      multitude which way soever I went, and met with a body of ruffians all in
      arms, whom, with abundance of flattery, caresses, entreaties, and menaces,
      I prevailed on to lay down their weapons; and it was this which saved the
      city, for had they continued in arms till night, the city had certainly
      been plundered.
    </p>
    <p>
      I went accompanied by 30,000 or 40,000 men without arms, and met the
      Marechal de La Meilleraye, who I thought would have stifled me with
      embraces, and who said these very words: "I am foolhardy and brutal; I had
      like to have ruined the State, and you have saved it; come, let us go to
      the Queen and talk to her like true, honest Frenchmen; and let us set down
      the day of the month, that when the King comes of age our testimony may be
      the means of hanging up those pests of the State, those infamous
      flatterers, who pretended to the Queen that this affair was but a trifle."
      To the Queen he presently hurried me, and said to her, "Here is a man that
      has not only saved my life, but your Guards and the whole Court."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen gave an odd smile which I did not very well like, but I would
      not seem to take any notice of it, and to stop Meilleraye in his encomium
      upon me, I assumed the discourse myself, and said, "Madame, we are not
      come upon my account, but to tell you that the city of Paris, disarmed and
      submissive, throws herself at your Majesty's feet."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not so submissive as guilty," replied the Queen, with a face full of
      fire; "if the people were so raging as I was made to believe, how came
      they to be so soon subdued?"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marshal fell into a passion, and said, with an oath, "Madame, an
      honest man cannot flatter you when things are come to such an extremity.
      If you do not set Broussel at liberty this very day, there will not be
      left one stone upon another in Paris by tomorrow morning."
    </p>
    <p>
      I was going to support what the Marshal had said, but the Queen stopped my
      mouth by telling me, with an air of banter, "Go to rest, sir; you have
      done a mighty piece of work."
    </p>
    <p>
      When I returned home, I found an incredible number of people expecting me,
      who forced me to get upon the top of my coach to give them an account of
      what success I had had at Court. I told them that the Queen had declared
      her satisfaction in their submission, and that she told me it was the only
      method they could have taken for the deliverance of the prisoners. I added
      other persuasives to pacify the commonalty, and they dispersed the sooner
      because it was supper-time; for you must know that the people of Paris,
      even those that are the busiest in all such commotions, do not care to
      lose their meals.
    </p>
    <p>
      I began to perceive that I had engaged my reputation too far in giving the
      people any grounds to hope for the liberation of Broussel, though I had
      particularly avoided giving them my word of honour, and I apprehended that
      the Court would lay hold of this occasion to destroy me effectually in the
      opinion of the people by making them believe that I acted in concert with
      the Court only, to amuse and deceive them.
    </p>
    <p>
      While I was making these and the like reflections, Montresor came and told
      me that I was quite mistaken if I thought to be a great gainer by the late
      expedition; that the Queen was not pleased with my proceedings, and that
      the Court was persuaded that I did what lay in my power to promote the
      insurrection. I confess I gave no credit to what Montresor said, for
      though I saw they made a jest of me in the Queen's Cabinet, I hoped that
      their malice did not go so far as to diminish the merit of the service I
      had rendered, and never imagined that they could be capable of turning it
      into a crime. Laigues, too, came from Court and told me that I was
      publicly laughed at, and charged with having fomented the insurrection
      instead of appeasing it; that I had been ridiculed two whole hours and
      exposed to the smart raillery of Beautru, to the buffoonery of Nogent, to
      the pleasantries of La Riviere, to the false compassion of the Cardinal,
      and to the loud laughter of the Queen.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may guess that I was not a little moved at this, but I rather felt a
      slight annoyance than any transport of passion. All sorts of notions came
      into my mind, and all as suddenly passed away. I sacrificed with little or
      no scruple all the sweetest and brightest images which the memory of past
      conspiracies presented in crowds to my mind as soon as the ill-treatment I
      now publicly met with gave me reason to think that I might with honour
      engage myself in new ones. The obligations I had to her Majesty made me
      reject all these thoughts, though I must confess I was brought up in them
      from my infancy, and Laigues and Montresor could have never shaken my
      resolution either by insinuating motives or making reproaches, if
      Argenteuil, a gentleman firmly attached to my interest, had not come into
      my room that moment with a frightened countenance and said:
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are undone; the Marechal de La Meilleraye has charged me to tell you
      that he verily thinks the devil is in the courtiers, who has put it into
      their heads that you have done all in your power to stir up the sedition.
      The Marechal de La Meilleraye has laboured earnestly to inform the Queen
      and Cardinal of the truth of the whole matter, but both have ridiculed him
      for his attempt. The Marshal said he could not excuse the injury they did
      you, but could not sufficiently admire the contempt they always had for
      the tumult, of which they foretold the consequence as if they had the gift
      of prophecy, always affirming that it would vanish in a night, as it
      really has, for he hardly met a soul in the streets."
    </p>
    <p>
      He added that fires so quickly extinguished as this were not likely to
      break out again; that he conjured me to provide for my own safety; that
      the King's authority would shine out the next day with all the lustre
      imaginable; that the Court seemed resolved not to let slip this fatal
      conjuncture, and that I was to be made the first public example.
    </p>
    <p>
      Argenteuil said: "Villeroy did not tell me so much, because he durst not;
      but he so squeezed my hand 'en passant' that I am apt to think he knows a
      great deal more, and I must tell you that they have very good reason for
      their apprehensions, because there is not a soul to be seen in the
      streets, and to-morrow they may take up whom they list."
    </p>
    <p>
      Montresor, who would be thought to know all things beforehand, said that
      he was assured it would be so and that he had foretold it. Laigues
      bewailed my conduct, which he said had raised the compassion of all my
      friends, although it had been their ruin. Upon this I desired to be left
      about a quarter of an hour to myself, during which, reflecting how I had
      been provoked and the public threatened, my scruples vanished; I gave rein
      to all my thoughts, recollected that all the glorious ideas which have
      ever entered my imagination were most concerned with vast designs, and
      suffered my mind to be regaled with the pleasing hopes of being the head
      of a party, a position which I had always admired in Plutarch's "Lives."
      The inconsistency of my scheme with my character made me tremble. A world
      of incidents may happen when the virtues in the leader of a party may be
      vices in an archbishop. I had this view a thousand times, and it always
      gave place to the duty I thought I owed to her Majesty, but the
      remembrance of what had passed at the Queen's table, and the resolution
      there taken to ruin me with the public, having banished all scruples, I
      joyfully determined to abandon my destiny to all the impulses of glory. I
      said to my friends that the whole Court was witness of the harsh treatment
      I had met with for above a year in the King's palace, and I added: "The
      public is engaged to defend my honour, but the public being now about to
      be sacrificed, I am obliged to defend it against oppression. Our
      circumstances are not so bad as you imagine, gentlemen, and before twelve
      o'clock to-morrow I shall be master of Paris."
    </p>
    <p>
      My two friends thought I was mad, and began to counsel moderation, whereas
      before they always incited me to action; but I did not give them hearing.
      I immediately sent for Miron, Accountant-General, one of the city
      colonels, a man of probity and courage, and having great interest with the
      people. I consulted with him, and he executed his commission with so much
      discretion and bravery that above four hundred considerable citizens were
      posted up and down in platoons with no more noise and stir than if so many
      Carthusian novices had been assembled for contemplation. After having
      given orders for securing certain gates and bars of the city, I went to
      sleep, and was told next morning that no soldiers had appeared all night,
      except a few troopers, who just took a view of the platoons of the
      citizens and then galloped off. Hence it was inferred that our precautions
      had prevented the execution of the design formed against particular
      persons, but it was believed there was some mischief hatching at the
      Chancellor's against the public, because sergeants were running backwards
      and forwards, and Ondedei went thither four times in two hours.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being informed soon after that the Chancellor was going to the Palace with
      all the pomp of magistracy, and that two companies of Swiss Guards
      approached the suburbs, I gave my orders in two words, which were executed
      in two minutes. Miron ordered the citizens to take arms, and Argenteuil,
      disguised as a mason, with a rule in his hand, charged the Swiss in flank,
      killed twenty or thirty, dispersed the rest, and took one of their
      colours. The Chancellor, hemmed in on every side, narrowly escaped with
      his life to the Hotel d'O, which the people broke open, rushed in with
      fury, and, as God would have it, fell immediately to plundering, so that
      they forgot to force open a little chamber where both the Chancellor and
      his brother, the Bishop of Meaux, to whom he was confessing, lay
      concealed. The news of this occurrence ran like wild-fire through the
      whole city. Men and women were immediately up in arms, and mothers even
      put daggers into the hands of their children. In less than two hours there
      were erected above two hundred barricades, adorned with all the standards
      and colours that the League had left entire. All the cry was, "God bless
      the King!" sometimes, "God bless the Coadjutor!" and the echo was, "No
      Mazarin!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen sent her commands to me to use my interest to appease the
      tumult. I answered the messenger, very coolly, that I had forfeited my
      credit with the people on account of yesterday's transactions, and that I
      did not dare to go abroad. The messenger had heard the cry of "God bless
      the Coadjutor!" and would fain have persuaded me that I was the favourite
      of the people, but I strove as much to convince him of the contrary.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court minions of the two last centuries knew not what they did when
      they reduced that effectual regard which kings ought to have for their
      subjects into mere style and form; for there are, as you see, certain
      conjunctures in which, by a necessary consequence, subjects make a mere
      form also of the real obedience which they owe to their sovereigns.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament hearing the cries of the people for Broussel, after having
      ordered a decree against Cominges, lieutenant of the Queen's Guards, who
      had arrested him, made it death for all who took the like commissions for
      the future, and decreed that an information should be drawn up against
      those who had given that advice, as disturbers of the public peace. Then
      the Parliament went in a body, in their robes, to the Queen, with the
      First President at their head, and amid the acclamations of the people,
      who opened all their barricades to let them pass. The First President
      represented to the Queen, with becoming freedom, that the royal word had
      been prostituted a thousand times over by scandalous and even childish
      evasions, defeating resolutions most useful and necessary for the State.
      He strongly exaggerated the mighty danger of the State from the city being
      all in arms; but the Queen, who feared nothing because she knew little,
      flew into a passion and raved like a fury, saying, "I know too well that
      there is an uproar in the city, but you Parliamentarians, together with
      your wives and children, shall be answerable for it all;" and with that
      she retired into another chamber and shut the door after her with
      violence. The members, who numbered about one hundred and sixty, were
      going down-stairs; but the First President persuaded them to go up and try
      the Queen once more, and meeting with the Duc d'Orleans, he, with a great
      deal of persuasion, introduced twenty of them into the presence-chamber,
      where the First President made another effort with the Queen, by setting
      forth the terrors of the enraged metropolis up in arms, but she would hear
      nothing, and went into the little gallery.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this the Cardinal advanced and proposed to surrender the prisoner,
      provided the Parliament would promise to hold no more assemblies. They
      were going to consider this proposal upon the spot, but, thinking that the
      people would be inclined to believe that the Parliament had been forced if
      they gave their votes at the Palais Royal, they resolved to adjourn to
      their own House.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament, returning and saying nothing about the liberation of
      Broussel, were received by the people with angry murmurs instead of with
      loud acclamations. They appeased those at the first two barricades by
      telling them that the Queen had promised them satisfaction; but those at
      the third barricade would not be paid in that coin, for a journeyman cook,
      advancing with two hundred men, pressed his halberd against the First
      President, saying, "Go back, traitor, and if thou hast a mind to save thy
      life, bring us Broussel, or else Mazarin and the Chancellor as hostages."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this five presidents 'au mortier' and about twenty councillors fell
      back into the crowd to make their escape; the First President only, the
      most undaunted man of the age, continued firm and intrepid. He rallied the
      members as well as he could, maintaining still the authority of a
      magistrate, both in his words and behaviour, and went leisurely back to
      the King's palace, through volleys of abuse, menaces, curses, and
      blasphemies. He had a kind of eloquence peculiar to himself, knew nothing
      of interjections, was not very exact in his speech, but the force of it
      made amends for that; and being naturally bold, never spoke so well as
      when he was in danger, insomuch that when he returned to the Palace he
      even outdid himself, for it is certain that he moved the hearts of all
      present except the Queen, who continued inflexible. The Duc d'Orleans was
      going to throw himself at her feet, which four or five Princesses,
      trembling with fear, actually did. The Cardinal, whom a young councillor
      jestingly advised to go out into the streets and see how the people stood
      affected, did at last join with the bulk of the Court, and with much ado
      the Queen condescended to bid the members go and consult what was fitting
      to be done, agreed to set the prisoners at liberty, restored Broussel to
      the people, who carried him upon their heads with loud acclamations, broke
      down their barricades, opened their shops, and in two hours Paris was more
      quiet than ever I saw it upon a Good Friday.
    </p>
    <p>
      As to the primum mobile of this revolution, it was owing to no other cause
      than a deviation from the laws, which so alters the opinions of the people
      that many times a faction is formed before the change is so much as
      perceived.
    </p>
    <p>
      This little reflection, with what has been said, may serve to confute
      those who pretend that a faction without a head is never to be feared. It
      grows up sometimes in a night. The commotion I have been speaking of,
      which was so violent and lasting, did not appear to have any leader for a
      whole year; but at last there rose up in one moment a much greater number
      than was necessary for the party.
    </p>
    <p>
      The morning after the barricades were removed, the Queen sent for me,
      treated me with all the marks of kindness and confidence, said that if she
      had hearkened to me she would not have experienced the late disquietness;
      that the Cardinal was not to blame for it, but that Chavigni had been the
      sole cause of her misfortunes, to whose pernicious counsels she had paid
      more deference than to the Cardinal. "But; good God!" she suddenly
      exclaimed, "will you not get that rogue Beautru soundly thrashed, who has
      paid so little respect to your character? The poor Cardinal was very near
      having it done the other night." I received all this with more respect
      than credulity. She commanded me to go to the poor Cardinal, to comfort
      him, and to advise him as to the best means of quieting the populace.
    </p>
    <p>
      I went without any scruple. He embraced me with a tenderness I am not able
      to express, said there was not an honest man in France but myself, and
      that all the rest were infamous flatterers, who had misled the Queen in
      spite of all his and my good counsels. He protested that he would do
      nothing for the future without my advice, showed me the foreign
      despatches, and, in short, was so affable, that honest Broussel, who was
      likewise present upon his invitation, for all his harmless simplicity,
      laughed heartily as we were going out, and said that it was all mere
      buffoonery.
    </p>
    <p>
      There being a report that the King was to be removed by the Court from
      Paris, the Queen assured the 'prevot des marchands' that it was false, and
      yet the very next day carried him to Ruel. From there I doubted not that
      she designed to surprise the city, which seemed really astonished at the
      King's departure, and I found the hottest members of the Parliament in
      great consternation, and the more so because news arrived at the same time
      that General Erlac&mdash;[He was Governor of Brisac, and commanded the
      forces of the Duke of Weimar after the Duke's death]&mdash;had passed the
      Somme with 4,000 Germans. Now, as in general disturbances one piece of bad
      news seldom comes singly, five or six stories of this kind were published
      at the same time, which made me think I should find it as difficult a task
      to raise the spirits of the people as I had before to restrain them. I was
      never so nonplussed in all my life. I saw the full extent of the danger,
      and everything looked terrible. Yet the greatest perils have their charms
      if never so little glory is discovered in the prospect of ill-success,
      while the least dangers have nothing but horror when defeat is attended
      with loss of reputation.
    </p>
    <p>
      I used all the arguments I could to dissuade the Parliament from making
      the Court desperate, at least till they had thought of some expedients to
      defend themselves from its insults, to which they would inevitably have
      been exposed if the Court had taken time by the forelock, in which,
      perhaps, they were prevented by the unexpected return of the Prince de
      Conti. I hereupon formed a resolution which gave me a great deal of
      uneasiness, but which was firm, because it was the only resolution I had
      to take. Extremities are always disagreeable, but are the wisest means
      when absolutely necessary; the best of it is that they admit of no middle
      course, and if peradventure they are good, they are always decisive.
    </p>
    <p>
      Fortune favoured my design. The Queen ordered Chavigni to be sent prisoner
      to Havre-de-Grace. I embraced this opportunity to stir up the natural
      fears of his dear friend Viole, by telling him that he was a ruined man
      for doing what he had done at the instigation of Chavigni; that it was
      plain the King left Paris with a view to attack it, and that he saw as
      well as I how much the people were dejected; that if their spirits should
      be quite sunk they could never be raised; that they must be supported;
      that I would influence the people; and that he should do what he could
      with the Parliament, who, in my opinion, ought not to be supine, but to be
      awakened at a juncture when the King's departure had perfectly drowned
      their senses, adding that a word in season would infallibly produce this
      good effect.
    </p>
    <p>
      Accordingly Viole struck one of the boldest strokes that has perhaps been
      heard of. He told the Parliament that it was reported Paris was to be
      besieged; that troops were marching for that end, and the most faithful
      servants of his late Majesty, who, it was suspected, would oppose designs
      so pernicious, would be put in chains; that it was necessary for them to
      address the Queen to bring the King back to Paris; and forasmuch as the
      author of all these mischiefs was well known, he moved further that the
      Duc d'Orleans and the officers of the Crown should be desired to come to
      Parliament to deliberate upon the decree issued in 1617, on account of
      Marechal d'Ancre, forbidding foreigners to intermeddle in the Government.
      We thought ourselves that we had touched too high a key, but a lower note
      would not have awakened or kept awake men whom fear had perfectly
      stupefied. I have observed that this passion of fear has seldom that
      influence upon individuals that it generally has upon the mass.
    </p>
    <p>
      Viole's proposition at first startled, then rejoiced, and afterwards
      animated those that heard it. Blancmenil, who before seemed to have no
      life left in him, had now the courage to point at the Cardinal by name,
      who hitherto had been described only by the designation of Minister; and
      the Parliament cheerfully agreed to remonstrate with the Queen, according
      to Viole's proposition, not forgetting to pray her Majesty to remove the
      troops further from Paris, and not to send for the magistrates to take
      orders for the security of the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      The President Coigneux whispered to me, saying, "I have no hopes but in
      you; we shall be undone if you do not work underground." I sat up
      accordingly all night to prepare instructions for Saint-Ibal to treat with
      the Count Fuensaldagne, and oblige him to march with the Spanish army, in
      case of need, to our assistance, and was just going to send him away to
      Brussels when M. de Chatillon, my friend and kinsman, who mortally hated
      the Cardinal, came to tell me that the Prince de Conde would be the next
      day at Ruel; that the Prince was enraged against the Cardinal, and was
      sure he would ruin the State if he were let alone, and that the Cardinal
      held a correspondence in cipher with a fellow in the Prince's army whom he
      had corrupted, to be informed of everything done there to his prejudice.
      By all this I learnt that the Prince had no great understanding with the
      Court, and upon his arrival at Ruel I ventured to go thither.
    </p>
    <p>
      Both the Queen and the Cardinal were extremely civil, and the latter took
      particular notice of the Prince's behaviour to me, who embraced me 'en
      passant' in the garden, and spoke very low to me, saying that he would be
      at my house next day. He kept his word, and desired me to give him an
      account of the state of affairs, and when I had done so we agreed that I
      should continue to push the Cardinal by means of the Parliament; that I
      should take his Highness by night incognito to Longueil and Broussel, to
      assure them they should not want assistance; that the Prince de Conde
      should give the Queen all the marks of his respect for and attachment to
      her, and make all possible reparation for the dissatisfaction he had shown
      with regard to the Cardinal, that he might thereby insinuate himself into
      the Queen's favour, and gradually dispose her to receive and fallow his
      counsels and hear truths against which she had always stopped her ears,
      and that by thus letting the Cardinal drop insensibly, rather than fall
      suddenly, the Prince would find himself master of the Cabinet with the
      Queer's approbation, and, with the assistance of his humble servants in
      Council, arbiter of the national welfare.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, who went away from Paris to give her troops an opportunity to
      starve and attack the city, told the deputies sent by Parliament to
      entreat her to restore the King to Paris that she was extremely surprised
      and astonished; that the King used every year at that season to take the
      air, and that his health was much more to be regarded than the imaginary
      fears of the people. The Prince de Conde, coming in at this juncture, told
      the President and councillors, who invited him to take his seat in
      Parliament, that he would not come, but obey the Queen though it should
      prove his ruin. The Duc d'Orleans said that he would not be there either,
      because the Parliament had made such proposals as were too bold to be
      endured, and the Prince de Conti spoke after the same manner.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day the King's Council carried an order of Council to Parliament
      to put a stop to their debates against foreigners being in the Ministry.
      This so excited the Parliament that they made a remonstrance in writing,
      instructed the 'prevot des marchands' to provide for the safety of the
      city, ordered all other governors to keep the passages free, and resolved
      next day to continue the debate against foreign ministers. I laboured all
      night to ward off the fatal blow, which I was afraid would hurry the
      Prince, against his will, into the arms of the Court. But when next day
      came, the members inflamed one another before they sat, through the cursed
      spirit of formality, and the very men who two days ago were all fear and
      trembling were suddenly transported, they knew not why, from a
      well-grounded fear to a blind rage, so that without reflecting that the
      General had arrived whose very name made them tremble, because they
      suspected him to be in the interest of the Court, they issued the said
      decree, which obliged the Queen to send the Duc d'Anjou,&mdash;[Philippe
      of France, only brother to King Louis XIV., afterwards Duc d'Orleans, died
      suddenly at St. Cloud, in 1701.]&mdash;but just recovered from the
      smallpox, and the Duchesse d'Orleans, much indisposed, out of town.
    </p>
    <p>
      This would have begun a civil war next day had not the Prince de Conde
      taken the wisest measures imaginable, though he had a very bad opinion of
      the Cardinal, both upon the public account and his own, and was as little
      pleased with the conduct of the Parliament, with whom there was no
      dealing, either as a body or as private persons. The Prince kept an even
      pace between the Court and country factions, and he said these words to
      me, which I can never forget:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mazarin does not know what he is doing, and will ruin the State if care
      be not taken; the Parliament really goes on too fast, as you said they
      would; if they did but manage according to our scheme, we should be able
      to settle our own business and that of the public, too; they act with
      precipitation, and were I to do so, it is probable I should gain more by
      it than they. But I am Louis de Bourbon, and will not endanger the State.
      Are those devils in square caps mad to force me either to begin a civil
      war tomorrow or to ruin every man of them, and set over our heads a
      Sicilian vagabond who will destroy us all at last?"
    </p>
    <p>
      In fine, the Prince proposed to set out immediately for Ruel to divert the
      Court from their project of attacking Paris, and to propose to the Queen
      that the Duc d'Orleans and himself should write to the Parliament to send
      deputies to confer about means to relieve the necessities of the State.
      The Prince saw that I was so overcome at this proposal that he said to me
      with tenderness, "How different you are from the man you are represented
      to be at Court! Would to God that all those rogues in the Ministry were
      but as well inclined as you!"
    </p>
    <p>
      I told the Prince that, considering how the minds of the Parliament were
      embittered, I doubted whether they would care to confer with the Cardinal;
      that his Highness would gain a considerable point if he could prevail with
      the Court not to insist upon the necessity of the Cardinal's presence,
      because then all the honour of the arrangement, in which the Duc
      d'Orleans, as usual, would only be as a cipher, would redound to him, and
      that such exclusion of the Cardinal would disgrace his Ministry to the
      last degree, and be a very proper preface to the blow which the Prince
      designed to give him in the Cabinet.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince profited by the hint, so that the Parliament returned answer
      that they would send deputies to confer with the Princes only, which last
      words the Prince artfully laid hold of and advised Mazarin not to expose
      himself by coming to the conference against the Parliament's consent, but
      rather, like a wise man, to make a virtue of the present necessity. This
      was a cruel blow to the Cardinal, who ever since the decease of the late
      King had been recognised as Prime Minister of France; and the consequences
      were equally disastrous.
    </p>
    <p>
      The deputies being accordingly admitted to a conference with the Duc
      d'Orleans, the Princes de Conde and Conti and M. de Longueville, the First
      President, Viole, who had moved in Parliament that the decree might be
      renewed for excluding foreigners from the Ministry, inveighed against the
      imprisonment of M. de Chavigni; who was no member, yet the President
      insisted upon his being set at liberty, because, according to the laws of
      the realm, no person ought to be detained in custody above twenty-four
      hours without examination. This occasioned a considerable debate, and the
      Duc d'Orldans, provoked at this expression, said that the President's aim
      was to cramp the royal authority. Nevertheless the latter vigorously
      maintained his argument, and was unanimously seconded by all the deputies,
      for which they were next day applauded in Parliament. In short, the thing
      was pushed so far that the Queen was obliged to consent to a declaration
      that for the future no man whatever should be detained in prison above
      three days without being examined. By this means Chavigni was set at
      liberty. Several other conferences were held, in which the Chancellor
      treated the First President of the Parliament with a sort of contempt that
      was almost brutal. Nevertheless the Parliament carried all before them.
    </p>
    <p>
      In October, 1648, the Parliament adjourned, and the Queen soon after
      returned to Paris with the King.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, who aimed at nothing more than to ruin my credit with the
      people, sent me 4,000 crowns as a present from the Queen, for the services
      which she said I intended her on the day of the barricade; and who, think
      you, should be the messenger to bring it but my friend the Marechal de La
      Meilleraye, the man who before warned me of the sinister intentions of the
      Court, and who now was so credulous as to believe that I was their
      favourite, because the Cardinal was pleased to say how much he was
      concerned for the injustice he had done me; which I only mention to remark
      that those people over whom the Court has once got an ascendency cannot
      help believing whatever they would have them believe, and the ministers
      only are to blame if they do not deceive them. But I would not be
      persuaded by the Marshal as he had been by the Cardinal, and therefore I
      refused the said sum very civilly, and, I am sure, with as much sincerity
      as the Court offered it.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the Cardinal laid another trap for me that I was not aware of,&mdash;by
      tempting me with the proffer of the Government of Paris; and when I had
      shown a willingness to accept it, he found means to break off the treaty I
      was making for that purpose with the Prince de Guemende, who had the
      reversion of it, and then represented me to the people as one who only
      sought my own interest. Instead of profiting by this blunder, which I
      might have done to my own advantage, I added another to it, and said all
      that rage could prompt me against the Cardinal to one who told it to him
      again.
    </p>
    <p>
      To return now to public affairs. About the feast of Saint Martin the
      people were so excited that they seemed as if they had been all
      intoxicated with gathering in the vintage; and you are now going to be
      entertained with scenes in comparison to which the past are but trifles.
    </p>
    <p>
      There is no affair but has its critical minute, which a bold statesmanship
      knows how to lay hold of, and which, if missed, especially in the
      revolution of kingdoms, you run the great risk of losing altogether.
    </p>
    <p>
      Every one now found their advantage in the declaration,&mdash;that is, if
      they understood their own interest. The Parliament had the honour of
      reestablishing public order. The Princes, too, had their share in this
      honour, and the first-fruits of it, which were respect and security. The
      people had a considerable comfort in it, by being eased of a load of above
      sixty millions; and if the Cardinal had had but the sense to make a virtue
      of necessity, which is one of the most necessary qualifications of a
      minister of State, he might, by an advantage always inseparable from
      favourites, have appropriated to himself the greatest part of the merit,
      even of those things he had most opposed.
    </p>
    <p>
      But these advantages were all lost through the most trivial
      considerations. The people, upon the discontinuation of the Parliamentary
      assemblies, resumed their savage temper, and were scared by the approach
      of a few troops at which it was ridiculous to take the least umbrage. The
      Parliament was too apt to give ear to every groundless tale of the
      non-execution of their declarations. The Duc d'Orleans saw all the good he
      was capable of doing and part of the evil he had power to prevent, but
      neither was strong enough to influence his fearful temper; he was
      unconscious of the coming and fatal blow. The Prince de Conde, who saw the
      evil to its full extent, was too courageous by nature to fear the
      consequences; he was inclined to do good, but would do it only in his own
      way. His age, his humour, and his victories hindered him from associating
      patience with activity, nor was he acquainted, unfortunately, with this
      maxim so necessary for princes,&mdash;"always to sacrifice the little
      affairs to the greater;" and the Cardinal, being ignorant of our ways,
      daily confounded the most weighty with the most trifling.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament, who met on the 2d of January, 1649, resolved to enforce
      the execution of the declaration, which, they pretended, had been
      infringed in all its articles; and the Queen was resolved to retire from
      Paris with the King and the whole Court. The Queen was guided by the
      Cardinal, and the Duc d'Orleans by La Riviere, the most sordid and
      self-interested man of the age in which he lived. As for the Prince de
      Conde, he began to be disgusted with the unseasonable proceedings of the
      Parliament almost as soon as he had concerted measures with Broussel and
      Longueil, which distaste, joined to the kindly attentions of the Queen,
      the apparent submission of the Cardinal, and an hereditary inclination
      received from his parents to keep well with the Court, cramped the
      resolutions of his great soul. I bewailed this change in his behaviour
      both for my own and the public account, but much more for his sake. I
      loved him as much as I honoured him, and clearly saw the precipice.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had divers conferences with him, in which I found that his disgust was
      turned into wrath and indignation. He swore there was no bearing with the
      insolence and impertinence of those citizens who struck at the royal
      authority; that as long as he thought they aimed only at Mazarin he was on
      their side; that I myself had often confessed that no certain measures
      could be concerted with men who changed their opinions every quarter of an
      hour; that he could never condescend to be General of an army of fools,
      with whom no wise man would entrust himself; besides that, he was a Prince
      of the blood, and would not be instrumental in giving a shock to the
      Throne; and that the Parliament might thank themselves if they were ruined
      through not observing the measures agreed on.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was the substance of my answer: "No men are more bound by interest
      than the Parliament to maintain the royal authority, so that they cannot
      be thought to have a design to ruin the State, though their proceedings
      may have a tendency that way. It must be owned, therefore, that if the
      sovereign people do evil, it is only when they are not able to act as well
      as they would. A skilful minister, who knows how to manage large bodies of
      men as well as individuals, keeps up such a due balance between the
      Prince's authority and the people's obedience as to make all things
      succeed and prosper. But the present Prime Minister has neither judgment
      nor strength to adjust the pendulum of this State clock, the springs of
      which are out of order. His business is to make it go slower, which, I
      own, he attempts to do, but very awkwardly, because he has not the brains
      for it. In this lies the fault of our machine. Your Highness is in the
      right to set about the mending of it, because nobody else is capable of
      doing it; but in order to do this must you join with those that would
      knock it in pieces?
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are convinced of the Cardinal's extravagances, and that his only view
      is to establish in France a form of government known nowhere but in Italy.
      If he should succeed, will the State be a gainer by it, according to its
      only true maxims? Would it be an advantage to the Princes of the blood in
      any sense? But, besides, has he any likelihood of succeeding? Is he not
      loaded with the odium and contempt of the public? and is not the
      Parliament the idol they revere? I know you despise them because the Court
      is so well armed, but let me tell you that they are so confident of their
      power that they feel their importance. They are come to that pass that
      they do not value your forces, and though the evil is that at present
      their strength consists only in their imagination, yet a time may come
      when they may be able to do whatever they now think it in their power to
      do.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your Highness lately told me that this disposition of the people was only
      smoke; but be assured that smoke so dark and thick proceeds from a brisk
      fire, which the Parliament blows, and, though they mean well, may blaze up
      into such a flame as may consume themselves and again hazard the
      destruction of the State, which has been the case more than once. Bodies
      of men, when once exasperated by a Ministry, always aggravate their
      failures, and scarcely ever show them any favour, which, in some cases, is
      enough to ruin a kingdom.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If, when the proposition was formerly made to the Parliament by the
      Cardinal to declare whether they intended to set bounds to the royal
      authority, if, I say, they had not wisely eluded the ridiculous and
      dangerous question, France would have run a great risk, in my opinion, of
      being entirely ruined; for had they answered in the affirmative, as they
      were on the point of doing, they would have rent the veil that covers the
      mysteries of State. Every monarchy has its peculiar veil; that of France
      consists in a kind of religious and sacred silence, which, by the subjects
      generally paying a blind obedience to their Kings, muffles up that right
      which they think they have to dispense with their obedience in cases where
      a complaisance to their Kings would be a prejudice to themselves. It is a
      wonder that the Parliament did not strip off this veil by a formal decree.
      This has had much worse consequences since the people have taken the
      liberty to look through it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Your Highness cannot by the force of arms prevent these dangerous
      consequences, which, perhaps, are already too near at hand. You see that
      even the Parliament can hardly restrain the people whom they have roused;
      that the contagion is spread into the provinces, and you know that Guienne
      and Provence are entirely governed by the example of Paris. Every thing
      shakes and totters, and it is your Highness only that can set us right,
      because of the splendour of your birth and reputation, and the generally
      received opinion that none but you can do it.
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Queen shares with the Cardinal in the common hatred, and the Duc
      d'Orleans with La Riviere in the universal contempt of the people. If, out
      of mere complaisance, you abet their measures, you will share in the
      hatred of the public. It is true that you are above their contempt; but
      then their dread of you will be so great that it will grievously embitter
      the hatred they will then bear to you, and the contempt they have already
      for the others, so that what is at present only a serious wound in the
      State will perhaps become incurable and mortal. I am sensible you have
      grounds to be diffident of the behaviour of a body consisting of above two
      hundred persons, who are neither capable of governing nor being governed.
      I own the thought is perplexing; but such favourable circumstances seem to
      offer themselves at this juncture that matters are much simplified.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Supposing that manifestoes were published, and your Highness declared
      General of the Parliamentary Army, would you, monseigneur, meet with
      greater difficulties than your grandfather and great-grandfather did, in
      accommodating themselves to the caprice of the ministers of Rochelle and
      the mayors of Nimes and Montauban? And would your Highness find it a
      greater task to manage the Parliament of Paris than M. de Mayenne did in
      the time of the League, when there was a factious opposition made to all
      the measures of the Parliament? Your birth and merit raise you as far
      above M. de Mayenne as the cause in hand is above that of the League; and
      the circumstances of both are no less different. The head of the League
      declared war by an open and public alliance with Spain against the Crown,
      and against one of the best and bravest kings that France ever had. And
      this head of the League, though descended from a foreign and suspected
      family, kept, notwithstanding, that same Parliament in his interest for a
      considerable time.
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have consulted but two members of the whole Parliament, and them only
      upon their promise to disclose your intentions to no man living. How then
      can your Highness think it possible that your sentiments, locked up so
      closely in the breasts of two members, can have any influence upon the
      whole body of the Parliament? I dare answer for it, monseigneur, that if
      you will but declare yourself openly the protector of the public and of
      the sovereign companies, you might govern them&mdash;at least, for a
      considerable time&mdash;with an absolute and almost sovereign authority.
      But this, it seems, is not what you have in view; you are not willing to
      embroil yourself with the Court. You had rather be of the Cabinet than of
      a party. Do not take it ill, then, that men who consider you only in this
      light do not conduct themselves as you would like. You ought to conform
      your measures to theirs, because theirs are moderate; and you may safely
      do it, for the Cardinal can hardly stand under the heavy weight of the
      public hatred, and is too weak to oblige you against your will to any
      sudden and precipitate rupture. La Riviere, who governs the Duc d'Orleans,
      is a most dangerous man. Continue, then, to introduce moderate measures,
      and let them take their course, according to your first plan. Is a little
      more or less heat in Parliamentary proceedings sufficient reason to make
      you alter it? For whatever be the consequence, the worst that can happen
      is that the Queen may believe you not zealous enough for her interest; but
      are there not remedies enough for that? Are there not excuses and
      appearances ready at hand, and such as cannot fail?
    </p>
    <p>
      "And now, I pray your Highness to give me leave to add that there never
      was so excellent, so innocent, so sacred, and so necessary a project as
      this formed by your Highness, and, in my humble opinion, there never were
      such weak reasons as those you have now urged to hinder its execution; for
      I take this to be the weakest of all, which, perhaps, you think a very
      strong one, namely, that if Mazarin miscarries in his designs you may be
      ruined along with him; and if he does succeed he will destroy you by the
      very means which you took to raise him."
    </p>
    <p>
      It had not the intended effect on the Prince, who was already
      prepossessed, and who only answered me in general terms. But heroes have
      their faults as well as other men, and so had his Highness, who had one of
      the finest geniuses in the world, but little or no forethought. He did not
      seek to aggravate matters in order to render himself necessary at Court,
      or with a view to do what he afterwards did for the Cardinal, nor was he
      biassed by the mean interests of pension, government, and establishment.
      He had most certainly great hopes of being arbiter of the Cabinet. The
      glory of being restorer of the public peace was his first end in view, and
      being the conservator of the royal authority the second. Those who labour
      under such an imperfection, though they see clearly the advantages and
      disadvantages of both parties, know not which to choose, because they do
      not weigh them in the same balance, so that the same thing appears
      lightest today which they will think heaviest to-morrow. This was the case
      of the Prince, who, it must be owned, if he had carried on his good design
      with prudence, certainly would have reestablished the Government upon a
      lasting foundation.
    </p>
    <p>
      He told me more than once, in an angry mood, that if the Parliament went
      on at the old rate he would teach them that it would be no great task to
      reduce them to reason. I perceived by his talk that the Court had resumed
      the design of besieging Paris; and to be the more satisfied of it I told
      him that the Cardinal might easily be disappointed in his measures, and
      that he would find Paris to be a very tough morsel.
    </p>
    <p>
      "It shall not be taken," he said, "like Dunkirk, by mines and storming;
      but suppose its bread from Gonesse should be cut off for eight days only?"
    </p>
    <p>
      I took this statement then for granted, and replied that the stopping of
      that passage would be attended with difficulties.
    </p>
    <p>
      "What difficulties?" asked the Prince, very briskly. "The citizens? Will
      they come out to give battle?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "If it were only citizens, monseigneur," I said, "the battle would not be
      very sharp."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who will be with them?" he replied; "will you be there yourself?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "That would be a very bad omen," I said; "it would look too much like the
      proceedings of the League."
    </p>
    <p>
      After a little pause, he said, "But now, to be serious, would you be so
      foolish as to embark with those men?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "You know, monseigneur," I said, "that I am engaged already; and that,
      moreover, as Coadjutor of Paris, I am concerned both by honour and
      interest in its preservation. I shall be your Highness's humble servant as
      long as I live, except in this one point."
    </p>
    <p>
      I saw he was touched to the quick, but he kept his temper, and said these
      very words: "When you engage in a bad cause I will pity you, but shall
      have no reason to complain of you. Nor do you complain of me; but do me
      that justice you owe me, namely, to own that all I promised to Longueil
      and Broussel is since annulled by the conduct of the Parliament."
    </p>
    <p>
      He afterwards showed me many personal favours, and offered to make my
      peace with the Court. I assured him of my obedience and zeal for his
      service in everything that did not interfere with the engagements I had
      entered into, which, as he himself owned, I could not possibly avoid.
    </p>
    <p>
      After we parted I paid a visit to Madame de Longueville, who seemed
      enraged both against the Court and the Prince de Conde. I was pleased to
      think, moreover, that she could do what she would with the Prince de
      Conti, who was little better than a child; but then I considered that this
      child was a Prince of the blood, and it was only a name we wanted to give
      life to that which, without one, was a mere embryo. I could answer for M.
      de Longueville, who loved to be the first man in any public revolution,
      and I was as well assured of Marechal de La Mothe,&mdash;[Philippe de La
      Mothe-Houdancourt, deceased 1657.]&mdash;who was madly opposed to the
      Court, and had been inviolably attached to M. de Longueville for twenty
      years together. I saw that the Duc de Bouillon, through the injustice done
      him by the Court and the unfortunate state of his domestic affairs, was
      very much annoyed and almost desperate. I had an eye upon all these
      gentlemen at a distance, but thought neither of them fit to open the
      drama. M. de Longueville was only fit for the second act; the Marechal de
      La Mothe was a good soldier, but had no headpiece, and was therefore not
      qualified for the first act. M. de Bouillon was my man, had not his
      honesty been more problematic than his talents. You will not wonder that I
      was so wavering in my choice, and that I fixed at last upon the Prince de
      Conti, of the blood of France.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as I gave Madame de Longueville a hint of what part she was to act
      in the intended revolution, she was perfectly transported, and I took care
      to make M. de Longueville as great a malcontent as herself. She had wit
      and beauty, though smallpox had taken away the bloom of her pretty face,
      in which there sat charms so powerful that they rendered her one of the
      most amiable persons in France. I could have placed her in my heart
      between Mesdames de Gudmenee and Pommereux, and it was not the despair of
      succeeding that palled my passion, but the consideration that the benefice
      was not yet vacant, though not well served,&mdash;M. de La Rochefoucault
      was in possession, yet absent in Poitou. I sent her three or four
      billets-doux every day, and received as many. I went very often to her
      levee to be more at liberty to talk of affairs, got extraordinary
      advantages by it, and I knew that it was the only way to be sure of the
      Prince de Conti.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having settled a regular correspondence with Madame de Longueville, she
      made me better acquainted with M. de La Rochefoucault, who made the Prince
      de Conti believe that he spoke a good word for him to the lady, his
      sister, with whom he was in, love. And the two so blinded the Prince that
      he did not suspect anything till four years after.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="p160j" id="p160j"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="p160j.jpg (44K)" src="images/p160j.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When I saw that the Court would act upon their own initiative, I resolved
      to declare war against them and attack Mazarin in person, because
      otherwise we could not escape being first attacked by him.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is certain that he gave his enemies such an advantage over him as no
      other Prime Minister ever did. Power commonly keeps above ridicule, but
      everybody laughed at the Cardinal because of his silly sayings and doings,
      which those in his position are seldom guilty of. It was said that he had
      lately asked Bougeval, deputy of the Grand Council, whether he did not
      think himself obliged to have no buttons to the collar of his doublet, if
      the King should command it,&mdash;a grave argument to convince the
      deputies of an important company of the obedience due to kings, for which
      he was severely lampooned both in prose and verse.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court having attempted to legalise excessive usury,&mdash;I mean with
      respect to the affair of loans,&mdash;my dignity would not permit me to
      tolerate so public and scandalous an evil. Therefore I held an assembly of
      the clergy, where, without so much as mentioning the Cardinal's name in
      the conferences, in which I rather affected to spare him, yet in a week's
      time I made him pass for one of the most obstinate Jews in Europe.
    </p>
    <p>
      At this very time I was sent for, by a civil letter under the Queen's own
      hand, to repair to Saint Germain, the messenger telling me the King was
      just gone thither and that the army was commanded to advance. I made him
      believe I would obey the summons, but I did not intend to do so.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was pestered for five hours with a parcel of idle rumours of ruin and
      destruction, which rather diverted than alarmed me, for though the Prince
      de Conde, distrusting his brother the Prince de Conti, had surprised him
      in bed and carried him off with him to Saint Germain, yet I did not
      question but that, as long as Madame de Longueville stayed in Paris, we
      should see him again, the rather because his brother neither feared nor
      valued him sufficiently to put him under arrest, and I was assured that M.
      de Longueville would be in Paris that evening by having received a letter
      from himself.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King was no sooner gone than the Parliament met, frightened out of
      their senses, and I know not what they could have done if we had not found
      a way to change their fears into a resolution to make a bold stand. I have
      observed a thousand times that there are some kinds of fear only to be
      removed by higher degrees of terror. I caused it to be signified to the
      Parliament that there was in the Hotel de Ville a letter from his Majesty
      to the magistrates, containing the reasons that had obliged him to leave
      his good city of Paris, which were in effect that some of the officers of
      the House held a correspondence with the enemies of the Government, and
      had conspired to seize his person.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament, considering this letter and that the President le Feron,
      'prevot des marchands', was a creature of the Court, ordered the citizens
      to arms, the gates to be secured, and the 'prevot des marchands' and the
      'lieutenant de police' to keep open the necessary passages for provisions.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having thought it good policy that the first public step of resistance
      should be taken by the Parliament to justify the disobedience of private
      persons, I then invented this stratagem to render me the more excusable to
      the Queen for not going to Saint Germain. Having taken leave of all
      friends and rejected all their entreaties for my stay in Paris, I took
      coach as if I were driving to Court, but, by good luck, met with an
      eminent timber-merchant, a very good friend of mine, at the end of
      Notre-Dame Street, who was very much out of humour, set upon my postilion,
      and threatened my coachman. The people came and overturned my coach, and
      the women, shrieking, carried me back to my own house.
    </p>
    <p>
      I wrote to the Queen and Prince, signifying how sorry I was that I had met
      with such a stoppage; but the Queen treated the messenger with scorn and
      contempt. The Prince, at the same time that he pitied me, could not help
      showing his anger. La Riviere attacked me with railleries and invectives,
      and the messenger thought they were sure of putting the rope about all our
      necks on the morrow.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was not so much alarmed at their menaces as at the news I heard the same
      day that M. de Longueville, returning from Rouen, had turned off to Saint
      Germain. Marechal de La Mothe told me twenty times that he would do
      everything to the letter that M. de Longueville would have him do for or
      against the Court. M. de Bouillon quarrelled with me for confiding in men
      who acted so contrary to the repeated assurances I had given him of their
      good behaviour. And besides all this, Madame de Longueville protested to
      me that she had received no news from M. de La Rochefoucault, who went
      soon after the King, with a design to fortify the Prince de Conti in his
      resolution and to bring him back to Paris. Upon this I sent the Marquis de
      Noirmoutier to Saint Germain to learn what we had to trust to.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 7th of January, 1649, an order was sent from the King to the
      Parliament to remove to Montargis, to the Chamber of Accounts to adjourn
      to Orleans and to the Grand Council to retire to Mantes. A packet was also
      sent to the Parliament, which they would not open, because they guessed at
      the contents and were resolved beforehand not to obey. Therefore they
      returned it sealed up as it came, and agreed to send assurances of their
      obedience to the Queen, and to beg she would give them leave to clear
      themselves from the aspersion thrown upon them in the letter above
      mentioned sent to the chief magistrate of the city. And to support the
      dignity of Parliament it was further resolved that her Majesty should be
      petitioned in a most humble manner to name the calumniators, that they
      might be proceeded against according to law. At the same time Broussel,
      Viole, Amelot, and seven others moved that it might be demanded in form
      that Cardinal Mazarin should be removed; but they were not supported by
      anybody else, so that they were treated as enthusiasts. Although this was
      a juncture in which it was more necessary than ever to act with vigour,
      yet I do not remember the time when I have beheld so much
      faintheartedness.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Chamber of Accounts immediately set about making remonstrances; but
      the Grand Council would have obeyed the King's orders, only the city
      refused them passports. I think this was one of the most gloomy days I had
      as yet seen. I found the Parliament had almost lost all their spirit, and
      that I should be obliged to bow my neck under the most shameful and
      dangerous yoke of slavery, or be reduced to the dire necessity of setting
      up for tribune of the people, which is the most uncertain and meanest of
      all posts when it is not vested with sufficient power.
    </p>
    <p>
      The weakness of the Prince de Conti, who was led like a child by his
      brother, the cowardice of M. de Longueville, who had been to offer his
      service to the Queen, and the declaration of MM. de Bouillon and de La
      Mothe had mightily disfigured my tribuneship. But the folly of Mazarin
      raised its reputation, for he made the Queen refuse audience to the King's
      Council, who returned that night to Paris, fully convinced that the Court
      was resolved to push things to extremity.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was informed from Saint Germain that the Prince had assured the Queen he
      would take Paris in a fortnight, and they hoped that the discontinuance of
      two markets only would starve the city into a surrender. I carried this
      news to my friends, who began to see that there was no possibility, of
      accommodation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament was no sooner acquainted that the King's Council had been
      denied audience than with one voice&mdash;Bernai excepted, who was fitter
      for a cook than a councillor&mdash;they passed that famous decree of
      January 8th, 1649, whereby Cardinal Mazarin was declared an enemy to the
      King and Government, a disturber of the public peace, and all the King's
      subjects were enjoined to attack him without mercy.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the afternoon there was a general council of the deputies of
      Parliament, of the Chamber of Accounts, of the Court of Aids, the chief
      magistrates of Paris, and the six trading companies, wherein it was
      resolved that the magistrates should issue commissions for raising 4,000
      horse and 10,000 foot. The same day the Chamber of Accounts, the Court of
      Aids, and the city sent their deputies to the Queen, to beseech her
      Majesty to bring the King back to Paris, but the Court was obdurate. The
      Prince de Conde flew out against the Parliament in the Queen's presence;
      and her Majesty told them all that neither the King nor herself would ever
      come again within the walls of the city till the Parliament was gone out
      of it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day the city received a letter from the King commanding them to
      oblige the Parliament to remove to Montargis. The governor, one of the
      sheriffs, and four councillors of the city carried the letter to
      Parliament, protesting at the same time that they would obey no other
      orders than those of the Parliament, who that very morning settled the
      necessary funds for raising troops. In the afternoon there was a general
      council, wherein all the corporations of the city and all the colonels and
      captains of the several quarters entered into an association, confirmed by
      an oath, for their mutual defence. In the meantime I was informed by the
      Marquis de Noirmoutier that the Prince de Conti and M. de Longueville were
      very well disposed, and that they stayed at Court the longer to have a
      safer opportunity of coming away. M. de La Rochefoucault wrote to the same
      purpose to Madame de Longueville.
    </p>
    <p>
      The same day I had a visit from the Duc d'Elbeuf,&mdash;[Charles de
      Lorraine, the second of that name, who died 1657.]&mdash;who, as they
      said, having missed a dinner at Court, came to Paris for a supper. He
      addressed me with all the cajoling flattery of the House of Guise, and had
      three children with him, who were not so eloquent, but seemed to be quite
      as cunning as himself. He told me that he was going to offer his service
      to the Hotel de Ville; but I advised him to wait upon the Parliament. He
      was fixed in his first resolution, yet he came to assure me he would
      follow my advice in everything. I was afraid that the Parisians, to whom
      the very name of a Prince of Lorraine is dear, would have given him the
      command of the troops. Therefore I ordered the clergy over whom I had
      influence to insinuate to the people that he was too influential with the
      Abbe de La Riviere, and I showed the Parliament what respect he had for
      them by addressing himself to the Hotel de Ville in the first place, and
      that he had not honour enough to be trusted. I was shown a letter which he
      wrote to his friend as he came into town, in which were these words: "I
      must go and do homage to the Coadjutor now, but in three days' time he
      shall return it to me." And I knew from other instances that his affection
      for me was of the feeblest.
    </p>
    <p>
      While I was reflecting what to do, news was brought to me before daylight
      that the Prince de Conti and M. de Longueville were at the gate of Saint
      Honord and denied entrance by the people, who feared they came to betray
      the city. I immediately fetched honest Broussel, and, taking some torches
      to light us, we posted to the said gate through a prodigious crowd of
      people; it was broad daylight before we could persuade the people that
      they might safely let them in.
    </p>
    <p>
      The great difficulty now was how to manage so as to remove the general
      distrust of the Prince de Conti that existed among the people. That which
      was practicable the night before was rendered impossible and even ruinous
      the next day, and this same Duc d'Elbeuf, whom I thought to have driven
      out of Paris on the 9th, was in a fair way to have compelled me to leave
      on the 10th if he had played his game well, so suspected was the name of
      Conde by the people. As there wanted a little time to reconcile them, I
      thought it was our only way to keep fair with M. d'Elbeuf and to convince
      him that it would be to his interest to join with the Prince de Conti and
      M. de Longueville. I accordingly sent to acquaint him that I intended him
      a visit, but when I arrived he was gone to the Parliament, where the First
      President, who was against removing to Montargis and at the same time very
      averse to a civil war, embraced him, and, without giving the members time
      to consider what was urged by Broussel, Viole, and others to the contrary,
      caused him to be declared General, with a design merely to divide and
      weaken the party.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this I made haste to the Palace of Longueville to persuade the Prince
      de Conti and M. de Longueville to go that very instant to the Parliament
      House. The latter was never in haste, and the Prince having gone tired to
      bed, it was with much ado I prevailed on him to rise. In short, he was so
      long in setting out that the Parliament was up and M. d'Elbeuf was
      marching to the Hotel de Ville to be sworn and to take care of the
      commissions that were to be issued. I thereupon persuaded the Prince de
      Conti to go to the Parliament in the afternoon and to offer them his
      service, while I stayed without in the hall to observe the disposition of
      the people.
    </p>
    <p>
      He went thither accordingly in my coach and with my grand livery, by which
      he made it appear that he reposed his confidence entirely in the people,
      whom there is a necessity of managing with a world of precaution because
      of their natural diffidence and instability. When we came to the House we
      were saluted upon the stairs with "God bless the Coadjutor!" but, except
      those posted there on purpose, not a soul cried, "God bless the Prince de
      Conti!" from which I concluded that the bulk of the people were not yet
      cured of their diffidence, and therefore I was very glad when I had got
      the Prince into the Grand Chamber. The moment after, M. d'Elbeuf came in
      with the city guards, who attended him as general, and with all the people
      crying out, "God bless his Highness M. d'Elbeuf!" But as they cried at the
      same time "God save the Coadjutor!" I addressed myself to him with a smile
      and said, "This is an echo, monsieur, which does me a great deal of
      honour."&mdash;"It is very kind of you," said he, and, turning to the
      guards, bade them stay at the door of the Grand Chamber. I took the order
      as given to myself, and stayed there likewise, with a great number of my
      friends. As soon as the House was formed, the Prince de Conti stood up and
      said that, having been made acquainted at Saint Germain with the
      pernicious counsels given to the Queen, he thought himself obliged, as
      Prince of the blood, to oppose them. M. d'Elbeuf, who was proud and
      insolent, like all weak men, because he thought he had the strongest
      party, said he knew the respect due to the Prince de Conti, but that he
      could not forbear telling them that it was himself who first broke the ice
      and offered his service to the Parliament, who, having conferred the
      General's baton upon him, he would never part with it but with his life.
    </p>
    <p>
      The generality of the members, who were as distrustful of the Prince de
      Conti as the people, applauded this declaration, and the Parliament passed
      a decree forbidding the troops on pain of high treason to advance within
      twenty miles of Paris. I saw that all I could do that day was to reconduct
      the Prince de Conti in safety to the palace of Longueville, for the crowd
      was so great that I was fain to carry him, as it were, in my arms out of
      the Grand Chamber.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. d'Elbeuf, who thought the day was all his own, hearing my name joined
      with his in the huzzas of the people, said to me by way of reprisal,
      "This, monsieur, is an echo which does me a great deal of honour," to
      which I replied, as he did to me before, "Monsieur, it is very kind of
      you." Meantime he was not wise enough to improve the opportunity, and I
      foresaw that things would soon take another turn, for reputation of long
      standing among the people never fails to blast the tender blossoms of
      public good-will which are forced out of due season.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had news sent to me from Madame de Lesdiguieres at Saint Germain, that
      M. d'Elbeuf, an hour after he heard of the arrival of the Prince de Conti
      and M. de Longueville at Paris, wrote a letter to the Abbe de la Riviere
      with these words: "Tell the Queen and the Duc d'Orleans that this
      diabolical Coadjutor is the ruin of everything here, and that in two days
      I shall have no power at all, but that if they will be kind to me I will
      make them sensible. I am not come hither with so bad a design as they
      imagine." I made a very good use of this advice, and, knowing that the
      people are generally fond of everything that seems mysterious, I imparted
      the secret to four or five hundred persons. I had the pleasure to hear
      that the confidence which the Prince had reposed in the people by going
      about all alone in my coach, without any attendance, had won their hearts.
    </p>
    <p>
      At midnight M. de Longueville, Marechal de La Mothe, and myself went to M.
      de Bouillon, whom we found as wavering as the state of affairs, but when
      we showed him our plan, and how easily it might be executed, he joined us
      immediately. We concerted measures, and I gave out orders to all the
      colonels and captains of my acquaintance.
    </p>
    <p>
      The most dangerous blow that I gave to M. d'Elbeuf was by making the
      people believe that he held correspondence with the King's troops, who on
      the 9th, at night, surprised Charenton. I met him on the first report of
      it, when he said, "Would you think there are people so wicked as to say
      that I had a hand in the capture of Charenton?" I said in answer, "Would
      you think there are people vile enough to report that the Prince de Conti
      is come hither by concert with the Prince de Conde?"
    </p>
    <p>
      When I saw the people pretty well cured of their diffidence, and not so
      zealous as they were for M. d'Elbeuf, I was for mincing the matter no
      longer, and thought that ostentation would be as proper to-day as reserve
      was yesterday. The Prince de Conti took M. de Longueville to the
      Parliament House, where he offered them his services, together with all
      Normandy, and desired they would accept of his wife, son, and daughter,
      and keep them in the Hotel de Ville as pledges of his sincerity. He was
      seconded by M. de Bouillon, who said he was exceedingly glad to serve the
      Parliament under the command of so great a Prince as the Prince de Conti.
      M. d'Elbeuf was nettled at this expression, and repeated what he had said
      before, that he would not part with the General's staff, and he showed
      more warmth than judgment in the whole debate. He spoke nothing to the
      purpose. It was too late to dispute, and he was obliged to yield, but I
      have observed that fools yield only when they cannot help it. We tried his
      patience a third time by the appearance of Marechal de La Mothe, who
      passed the same compliment upon the company as De Bouillon had done. We
      had concerted beforehand that these personages should make their
      appearance upon the theatre one after the other, for we had remarked that
      nothing so much affects the people, and even the Parliament, among whom
      the people are a majority, as a variety of scenes.
    </p>
    <p>
      I took Madame de Longueville and Madame de Bouillon in a coach by way of
      triumph to the Hotel de Ville. They were both of rare beauty, and appeared
      the more charming because of a careless air, the more becoming to both
      because it was unaffected. Each held one of her children, beautiful as the
      mother, in her arms. The place was so full of people that the very tops of
      the houses were crowded; all the men shouted and the women wept for joy
      and affection. I threw five hundred pistoles out of the window of the
      Hotel de Ville, and went again to the Parliament House, accompanied by a
      vast number of people, some with arms and others without. M. d'Elbeuf's
      captain of the guards told his master that he was ruined to all intents
      and purposes if he did not accommodate himself to the present position of
      affairs, which was the reason that I found him much perplexed and
      dejected, especially when M. de Bellievre, who had amused him hitherto
      designedly, came in and asked what meant the beating of the drums. I
      answered that he would hear more very soon, and that all honest men were
      quite out of patience with those that sowed divisions among the people. I
      saw then that wisdom in affairs of moment is nothing without courage. M.
      d'Elbeuf had little courage at this juncture, made a ridiculous
      explanation of what he had said before, and granted more than he was
      desired to do, and it was owing to the civility and good sense of M. de
      Bouillon that he retained the title of General and the precedence of M. de
      Bouillon and M. de La Mothe, who were equally Generals with himself under
      the Prince de Conti, who was from that instant declared Generalissimo of
      the King's forces under the direction of the Parliament.
    </p>
    <p>
      There happened at this time a comical scene in the Hotel de Ville, which I
      mention more particularly because of its consequence. De Noirmoutier, who
      the night before was made lieutenant-general, returning by the Hotel de
      Ville from a sally which he had made into the suburbs to drive away
      Mazarin's skirmishers, as they were called, entered with three officers in
      armour into the chamber of Madame de Longueville, which was full of
      ladies; the mixture of blue scarfs, ladies, cuirassiers, fiddlers, and
      trumpeters in and about the hall was such a sight as is seldom met with
      but in romances. De Noirmoutier, who was a great admirer of Astrea, said
      he imagined that we were besieged in Marcilli. "Well you may," said I;
      "Madame de Longueville is as fair as Galatea, but Marsillac (son of M. de
      La Rochefoucault) is not a man of so much honour as Lindamore." I fancy I
      was overheard by one in a neighbouring window, who might have told M. de
      La Rochefoucault, for otherwise I cannot guess at the first cause of the
      hatred which he afterwards bore me.
    </p>
    <p>
      Before I proceed to give you the detail of the civil war, suffer me to
      lead you into the gallery where you, who are an admirer of fine painting,
      will be entertained with the figures of the chief actors, drawn all at
      length in their proper colours, and you will be able to judge by the
      history whether they are painted to the life. Let us begin, as it is but
      just, with her Majesty.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Queen.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen excelled in that kind of wit which was becoming her circle, to
      the end that she might not appear silly before strangers; she was more
      ill-natured than proud, had more pride than real grandeur, and more show
      than substance; she loved money too well to be liberal, and her own
      interest too well to be impartial; she was more constant than passionate
      as a lover, more implacable than cruel, and more mindful of injuries than
      of good offices. She had more of the pious intention than of real piety,
      more obstinacy than well-grounded resolution, and a greater measure of
      incapacity than of all the rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Duc d' Orleans.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans possessed all the good qualities requisite for a man of
      honour except courage, but having not one quality eminent enough to make
      him notable, he had nothing in him to supply or support the weakness which
      was so predominant in his heart through fear, and in his mind through
      irresolution, that it tarnished the whole course of his life. He engaged
      in all affairs, because he had not power to resist the importunities of
      those who drew him in for their own advantage, and came off always with
      shame for want of courage to go on. His suspicious temper, even from his
      childhood, deadened those lively, gay colours which would have shone out
      naturally with the advantages of a fine, bright genius, an amiable
      gracefulness, a very honest disposition, a perfect disinterestedness, and
      an incredible easiness of behaviour.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Prince de Conde.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde was born a general, an honour none could ever boast of
      before but Caesar and Spinola; he was equal to the first, but superior to
      the second. Intrepidity was one of the least parts of his character.
      Nature gave him a genius as great as his heart. It was his fortune to be
      born in an age of war, which gave him an opportunity to display his
      courage to its full extent; but his birth, or rather education, in a
      family submissively attached to the Cabinet, restrained his noble genius
      within too narrow bounds. There was no care taken betimes to inspire him
      with those great and general maxims which form and improve a man of parts.
      He had not time to acquire them by his own application, because he was
      prevented from his youth by the unexpected revolution, and by a constant
      series of successes. This one imperfection, though he had as pure a soul
      as any in the world, was the reason that he did things which were not to
      be justified, that though he had the heart of Alexander so he had his
      infirmities, that he was guilty of unaccountable follies, that having all
      the talents of Francois de Guise, he did not serve the State upon some
      occasions as well as he ought, and that having the parts of Henri de
      Conde, his namesake, he did not push the faction as far as he might have
      done, nor did he discharge all the duties his extraordinary merit demanded
      from him.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Duc de Longueville.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Longueville, though he had the grand name of Orleans, together with
      vivacity, an agreeable appearance, generosity, liberality, justice,
      valour, and grandeur, yet never made any extraordinary figure in life,
      because his ideas were infinitely above his capacity. If a man has
      abilities and great designs, he is sure to be looked upon as a man of some
      importance; but if he does not carry them out, he is not much esteemed,
      which was the case with De Longueville.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Duc de Beaufort.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort knew little of affairs of moment but by hearsay and by what
      he had learned in the cabal of "The Importants," of whose jargon he had
      retained some smattering, which, together with some expressions he had
      perfectly acquired from Madame de Vendome, formed a language that would
      have puzzled a Cato. His speech was short and stupidly dull, and the more
      so because he obscured it by affectation. He thought himself very
      sufficient, and pretended to a great deal more wit than came to his share.
      He was brave enough in his person, and outdid the common Hectors by being
      so upon all occasions, but never more 'mal a propos' than in gallantry.
      And he talked and thought just as the people did whose idol he was for
      some time.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Dice d'Elbeuf.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. d'Elbeuf could not fail of courage, as he was a Prince of the house of
      Lorraine. He had all the wit that a man of abundantly more cunning and
      good sense could pretend to. He was a medley of incoherent flourishes. He
      was the first Prince debased by poverty; and, perhaps, never man was more
      at a loss than he to raise the pity of the people in misery. A comfortable
      subsistence did not raise his spirits; and if he had been master of riches
      he would have been envied as a leader of a party. Poverty so well became
      him that it seemed as if he had been cut out for a beggar.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Duc de Bouillon.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc de Bouillon was a man of experienced valour and profound sense. I
      am fully persuaded, by what I have seen of his conduct, that those who cry
      it down wrong his character; and it may be that others had too favourable
      notions of his merit, who thought him capable of all the great things
      which he never did.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of M. de Turenne.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Turenne had all the good qualities in his very nature, and acquired
      all the great ones very early, those only excepted that he never thought
      of. Though almost all the virtues were in a manner natural to him, yet he
      shone out in none. He was looked upon as more proper to be at the head of
      an army than of a faction, for he was not naturally enterprising. He had
      in all his conduct, as well as in his way of talking, certain obscurities
      which he never explained but on particular occasions, and then only for
      his own honour.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of Marechal de La Mothe.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Marechal de La Mothe was a captain of the second rank, full of mettle,
      but not a man of much sense. He was affable and courteous in civil life,
      and a very useful man in a faction because of his wonderful complacency.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Prince de Conti.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conti was a second Zeno as much as he was a Prince of the
      blood. That is his character with regard to the public; and as to his
      private capacity, wickedness had the same effect on him as weakness had on
      M. d'Elbeuf, and drowned his other qualities, which were all mean and
      tinctured with folly.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of M. de La Rochefoucault.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de La Rochefoucault had something so odd in all his conduct that I know
      not what name to give it. He loved to be engaged in intrigues from a
      child. He was never capable of conducting any affair, for what reasons I
      could not conceive; for he had endowments which, in another, would have
      made amends for imperfections . . . . He had not a long view of what was
      beyond his reach, nor a quick apprehension of what was within it; but his
      sound sense, very good in speculation, his good-nature, his engaging and
      wonderfully easy behaviour, were enough to have made amends more than they
      did for his want of penetration. He was constantly wavering in his
      resolution, but what to attribute it to I know not, for it could not come
      from his fertile imagination, which was lively. Nor can I say it came from
      his barrenness of thought, for though he did not excel as a man of
      affairs, yet he had a good fund of sense. The effect of this irresolution
      is very visible, though we do not know its cause. He never was a warrior,
      though a true soldier. He never was a courtier, though he had always a
      good mind to be one. He never was a good party man, though his whole life
      was engaged in partisanship. He was very timorous and bashful in
      conversation, and thought he always stood in need of apologies, which,
      considering that his "Maxims" showed not great regard for virtue, and that
      his practice was always to get out of affairs with the same hurry as he
      got into them, makes me conclude that he would have done much better if he
      had contented himself to have passed, as he might have done, for the
      politest courtier and the most cultivated gentlemen of his age.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of Madame de Longueville.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Longueville had naturally a great fund of wit, and was,
      moreover, a woman of parts; but her indolent temper kept her from making
      any use of her talents, either in gallantries or in her hatred against the
      Prince de Conde. Her languishing air had more charms in it than the most
      exquisite beauty. She had few or no faults besides what she contracted in
      her gallantry. As her passion of love influenced her conduct more than
      politics, she who was the Amazon of a great party degenerated into the
      character of a fortune-hunter. But the grace of God brought her back to
      her former self, which all the world was not able to do.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of Madame de Chevreuse.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Chevreuse had not so much as the remains of beauty when I knew
      her; she was the only person I ever saw whose vivacity supplied the want
      of judgment; her wit was so brilliant and so full of wisdom that the
      greatest men of the age would not have been ashamed of it, while, in
      truth, it was owing to some lucky opportunity. If she had been born in
      time of peace she would never have imagined there could have been such a
      thing as war. If the Prior of the Carthusians had but pleased her, she
      would have been a nun all her lifetime. M. de Lorraine was the first that
      engaged her in State affairs. The Duke of Buckingham&mdash;[George
      Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, assassinated when preparing to succour
      Rochelle.]&mdash;and the Earl of Holland (an English lord, of the family
      of Rich, and younger son of the Earl of Warwick, then ambassador in
      France) kept her to themselves; M. de Chateauneuf continued the amusement,
      till at last she abandoned herself to the pleasing of a person whom she
      loved, without any choice, but purely because it was impossible for her to
      live without being in love with somebody. It was no hard task to give her
      one to serve the turn of the faction, but as soon as she accepted him she
      loved him with all her heart and soul, and she confessed that, by the
      caprice of fortune, she never loved best where she esteemed most, except
      in the case of the poor Duke of Buckingham. Notwithstanding her attachment
      in love, which we may, properly call her everlasting passion,
      notwithstanding the frequent change of objects, she was peevish and touchy
      almost to distraction, but when herself again, her transports were very
      agreeable; never was anybody less fearful of real danger, and never had
      woman more contempt for scruples and ceremonies.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mademoiselle de Chevreuse was more beautiful in her person than charming
      in her carriage, and by nature extremely silly; her amorous passion made
      her seem witty, serious, and agreeable only to him whom she was in love
      with, but she soon treated him as she did her petticoat, which to-day she
      took into her bed, and to-morrow cast into the fire out of pure aversion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the Princess Palatine.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Princess Palatine' had just as much gallantry as gravity. I believe
      she had as great a talent for State affairs as Elizabeth, Queen of
      England. I have seen her in the faction, I have seen her in the Cabinet,
      and found her everywhere equally sincere.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of Madame de Montbazon.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Montbazon was a very great beauty, only modesty was visibly
      wanting in her air; her grand air and her way of talking sometimes
      supplied her want of sense. She loved nothing more than her pleasures,
      unless it was her private interest, and I never knew a vicious person that
      had so little respect for virtue.
    </p>
    <p>
      Character of the First President.
    </p>
    <p>
      If it were not a sort of blasphemy to say that any mortal of our times had
      more courage than the great Gustavus Adolphus and the Prince de Conde, I
      would venture to affirm it of M. Mole, the First President, but his wit
      was far inferior to his courage. It is true that his enunciation was not
      agreeable, but his eloquence was such that, though it shocked the ear, it
      seized the imagination. He sought the interest of the public preferably to
      all things, not excepting the interest of his own family, which yet he
      loved too much for a magistrate. He had not a genius to see at times the
      good he was capable of doing, presumed too much upon his authority, and
      imagined that he could moderate both the Court and Parliament; but he
      failed in both, made himself suspected by both, and thus, with a design to
      do good, he did evil. Prejudices contributed not a little to this, for I
      observed he was prejudiced to such a degree that he always judged of
      actions by men, and scarcely ever of men by their actions.
    </p>
    <p>
      To return to our history. All the companies having united and settled the
      necessary funds, a complete army was raised in Paris in a week's time. The
      Bastille surrendered after five or six cannon shots, and it was a pretty
      sight to see the women carry their chairs into the garden, where the guns
      were stationed, for the sake of seeing the siege, just as if about to hear
      a sermon.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort, having escaped from his confinement, arrived this very day
      in Paris. I found that his imprisonment had not made him one jot the
      wiser. Indeed, it had got him a reputation, because he bore it with
      constancy and made his escape with courage. It was also his merit not to
      have abandoned the banks of the Loire at a time when it absolutely
      required abundance of skill and courage to stay there. It is an easy
      matter for those who are disgraced at Court to make the best of their own
      merit in the beginning of a civil war. He had a mind to form an alliance
      with me, and knowing how to employ him advantageously, I prepossessed the
      people in his favour, and exaggerated the conspiracy which the Cardinal
      had formed against him by means of Du Hamel.
    </p>
    <p>
      As my friendship was necessary to him, so his was necessary to me; for my
      profession on many occasions being a restraint upon me, I wanted a man
      sometimes to stand before me. M. de La Mothe was so dependent on M. de
      Longueville that I could not rely on him; and M. de Bouillon was not a man
      to be governed.
    </p>
    <p>
      We went together to wait on the Prince de Conti; we stopped the coach in
      the streets, where I proclaimed the name of M. de Beaufort, praised him
      and showed him to the people; upon which the people were suddenly fired
      with enthusiasm, the women kissed him, and the crowd was so great that we
      had much ado to get to the Hotel de Ville. The next day he offered a
      petition to the Parliament desiring he might have leave to justify himself
      against the accusation of his having formed a design against the life of
      the Cardinal, which was granted; and he was accordingly cleared next day,
      and the Parliament issued that famous decree for seizing all the cash of
      the Crown in all the public and private receipt offices of the kingdom and
      employing it in the common defence.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde was enraged at the declaration published by the Prince
      de Conti and M. de Longueville, which cast the Court, then at Saint
      Germain, into such a despair that the Cardinal was upon the point of
      retiring. I was abused there without mercy, as appeared by a letter sent
      to Madame de Longueville from the Princess, her mother, in which I read
      this sentence: "They rail here plentifully against the Coadjutor, whom yet
      I cannot forbear thanking for what he has done for the poor Queen of
      England." This circumstance is very curious. You must know that a few days
      before the King left Paris I visited the Queen of England, whom I found in
      the apartment of her daughter, since Madame d'Orleans. "You see,
      monsieur," said the Queen, "I come here to keep Henriette company; the
      poor child has lain in bed all day for want of a fire." The truth is, the
      Cardinal having stopped the Queen's pension six months, tradesmen were
      unwilling to give her credit, and there was not a chip of wood in the
      house. You may be sure I took care that a Princess of Great Britain should
      not be confined to her bed next day, for want of a fagot; and a few days
      after I exaggerated the scandal of this desertion, and the Parliament sent
      the Queen a present of 40,000 livres. Posterity will hardly believe that
      the Queen of England, granddaughter of Henri the Great, wanted a fagot to
      light a fire in the month of January, in the Louvre, and at the Court of
      France.
    </p>
    <p>
      There are many passages in history less monstrous than this which make us
      shudder, and this mean action of the Court made so little impression upon
      the minds of the generality of the people at that time that I have
      reflected a thousand times since that we are far more moved at the hearing
      of old stories than of those of the present time; we are not shocked at
      what we see with our own eyes, and I question whether our surprise would
      be as great as we imagine at the story of Caligula's promoting his horse
      to the dignity of a consul were he and his horse now living.
    </p>
    <p>
      To return to the war. A cornet of my regiment being taken prisoner and
      carried to Saint Germain, the Queen immediately ordered his head to be cut
      off, but I sent a trumpeter to acquaint the Court that I would make
      reprisals upon my prisoners, so that my cornet was exchanged and a cartel
      settled.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as Paris declared itself, all the kingdom was in a quandary, for
      the Parliament of Paris sent circular letters to all the Parliaments and
      cities in the kingdom exhorting them to join against the common enemy;
      upon which the Parliaments of Aix and Rouen joined with that of Paris. The
      Prince d'Harcourt, now Duc d'Elbeuf, and the cities of Rheims, Tours, and
      Potiers, took up arms in its favour. The Duc de La Tremouille raised men
      for them publicly. The Duc de Retz offered his service to the Parliament,
      together with Belle Isle. Le Mans expelled its bishop and all the Lavardin
      family, who were in the interest of the Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 18th of January, 1649, I was admitted to a seat and vote in
      Parliament, and signed an alliance with the chief leaders of the party:
      MM. de Beaufort, de Bouillon, de La Mothe, de Noirmoutier, de Vitri, de
      Brissac, de Maure, de Matha, de Cugnac, de Barnire, de Sillery, de La
      Rochefoucault, de Laigues, de Sevigny, de Bethune, de Luynes, de Chaumont,
      de Saint-Germain, d'Action, and de Fiesque.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 9th of February the Prince de Conde attacked and took Charenton.
      All this time the country people were flocking to Paris with provisions,
      not only because there was plenty of money, but to enable the citizens to
      hold out against the siege, which was begun on the 9th of January.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 12th of February a herald came with two trumpeters from the Court
      to one of the city gates, bringing three packets of letters, one for the
      Parliament, one for the Prince de Conti, and the third for the Hotel de
      Ville. It was but the night before that a person was caught in the halls
      dropping libels against the Parliament and me; upon which the Parliament,
      Princes, and city supposed that this State visit was nothing but an
      amusement of Cardinal Mazarin to cover a worse design, and therefore
      resolved not to receive the message nor give the herald audience, but to
      send the King's Council to the Queen to represent to her that their
      refusal was out of pure obedience and respect, because heralds are never
      sent but to sovereign Princes or public enemies, and that the Parliament,
      the Prince de Conti, and the city were neither the one nor the other. At
      the same time the Chevalier de Lavalette, who distributed the libels, had
      formed a design to kill me and M. de Beaufort upon the Parliament stairs
      in the great crowd which they expected would attend the appearance of the
      herald. The Court, indeed, always denied his having any other commission
      than to drop the libels, but I am certain that the Bishop of Dole told the
      Bishop of Aire, but a night or two before, that Beaufort and I should not
      be among the living three days hence.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King's councillors returned with a report how kindly they had been
      received at Saint Germain. They said the Queen highly approved of the
      reasons offered by the Parliament for refusing entrance to the herald, and
      that she had assured them that, though she could not side with the
      Parliament in the present state of affairs, yet she received with joy the
      assurances they had given her of their respect and submission, and that
      she would distinguish them in general and in particular by special marks
      of her good-will. Talon, Attorney-General, who always spoke with dignity
      and force, embellished this answer of the Queen with all the ornaments he
      could give it, assuring the Parliament in very pathetic terms that, if
      they should be pleased to send a deputation to Saint Germain, it would be
      very kindly received, and might, perhaps, be a great step towards a peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      When I saw that we were besieged, that the Cardinal had sent a person into
      Flanders to treat with the Spaniards, and that our party was now so well
      formed that there was no danger that I alone should be charged with
      courting the alliance of the enemies of the State, I hesitated no longer,
      but judged that, as affairs stood, I might with honour hear what proposals
      the Spaniards would make to me for the relief of Paris; but I took care
      not to have my name mentioned, and that the first overtures should be made
      to M. d'Elbeuf, who was the fittest person, because during the ministry of
      Cardinal de Richelieu he was twelve or fifteen years in Flanders a
      pensioner of Spain. Accordingly Arnolfi, a Bernardin friar, was sent from
      the Archduke Leopold, Governor of the Spanish Netherlands for the King of
      Spain, to the Duc d'Elbeuf, who, upon sight of his credentials, thought
      himself the most considerable man of the party, invited most of us to
      dinner, and told us he had a very important matter to lay before us, but
      that such was his tenderness for the French name that he could not open so
      much as a small letter from a suspected quarter, which, after some
      scrupulous and mysterious circumlocutions, he ventured to name, and we
      agreed one and all not to refuse the succours from Spain, but the great
      difficulty was, which way to get them. Fuensaldagne, the general, was
      inclined to join us if he could have been sure that we would engage with
      him; but as there was no possibility of the Parliaments treating with him,
      nor any dependence to be placed upon the generals, some of whom were
      wavering and whimsical, Madame de Bouillon pressed me not to hesitate any
      longer, but to join with her husband, adding that if he and I united, we
      should so far overmatch the others that it would not be in their power to
      injure us.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon and I agreed to use our interest to oblige the Parliament
      to hear what the envoy had to say. I proposed it to the Parliament, but
      the first motion of it was hissed, in a manner, by all the company as much
      as if it had been heretical. The old President Le Coigneux, a man of quick
      apprehension, observing that I sometimes mentioned a letter from the
      Archduke of which there had been no talk, declared himself suddenly to be
      of my opinion. He had a secret persuasion that I had seen some writings
      which they knew nothing of, and therefore, while both sides were in the
      heat of debate, he said to me:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why do you not disclose yourself to your friends? They would come into
      your measures. I see very well you know more of the matter than the person
      who thinks himself your informant." I vow I was terribly ashamed of my
      indiscretion. I squeezed him by the hand and winked at MM. de Beaufort and
      de La Mothe. At length two other Presidents came over to my opinion, being
      thoroughly convinced that succours from Spain at this time were a remedy
      absolutely necessary to our disease, but a dangerous and empirical
      medicine, and infallibly mortal to particular persons if it did not pass
      first through the Parliament's alembic.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Bernardin, being tutored by us beforehand what to say when he came
      before the Parliament, behaved like a man of good sense.
    </p>
    <p>
      When he desired audience, or rather when the Prince de Conti desired it
      for him, the President de Mesmes, a man of great capacity, but by fear and
      ambition most slavishly attached to the Court, made an eloquent and
      pathetic harangue, preferable to anything I ever met with of the kind in
      all the monuments of antiquity, and, turning about to the Prince de Conti,
      "Is it possible, monsieur," said he, "that a Prince of the blood of France
      should propose to let a person deputed from the most bitter enemy of the
      fleurs-de-lis have a seat upon those flowers?" Then turning to me, he
      said, "What, monsieur, will you refuse entrance to your sovereign's herald
      upon the most trifling pretexts?" I knew what was coming, and therefore I
      endeavoured to stop his mouth by this answer: "Monsieur, you will excuse
      me from calling those reasons frivolous which have had the sanction of a
      decree." The bulk of the Parliament was provoked at the President's
      unguarded expression, baited him very fiercely, and then I made some
      pretence to go out, leaving Quatresous, a young man of the warmest temper,
      in the House to skirmish with him in my stead, as having experienced more
      than once that the only way to get anything of moment passed in
      Parliamentary or other assemblies is to exasperate the young men against
      the old ones.
    </p>
    <p>
      In short, after many debates, it was carried that the envoy should be
      admitted to audience. Being accordingly admitted, and bidden to be covered
      and sit down, he presented the Archduke's credentials, and then made a
      speech, which was in substance that his master had ordered him to acquaint
      the company with a proposal made him by Cardinal Mazarin since the
      blockade of Paris, which his Catholic Majesty did not think consistent
      with his safety or honour to accept, when he saw that, on the one hand, it
      was made with a view to oppress the Parliament, which was held in
      veneration by all the kingdoms in the world, and, on the other, that all
      treaties made with a condemned minister would be null and void, forasmuch
      as they were made without the concurrence of the Parliament, to whom only
      it belonged to register and verify treaties of peace in order to make them
      authoritative; that the Catholic King, who proposed to take no advantage
      from the present state of affairs, had ordered the Archduke to assure the
      Parliament, whom he knew to be in the true interest of the most Christian
      King, that he heartily acknowledged them to be the arbiters of peace, that
      he submitted to their judgment, and that if they thought proper to be
      judges, he left it to their choice to send a deputation out of their own
      body to what place they pleased. Paris itself not excepted, and that his
      Catholic Majesty would also, without delay, send his deputies thither to
      meet and treat with them; that, meanwhile, he had ordered 18,000 men to
      march towards their frontiers to relieve them in case of need, with orders
      nevertheless to commit no hostilities upon the towns, etc., of the most
      Christian King, though they were for the most part abandoned; and it being
      his resolution at this juncture to show his sincere inclination for peace,
      he gave them his word of honour that his armies should not stir during the
      treaty; but that in case his troops might be serviceable to the
      Parliament, they were at their disposal, to be commanded by French
      officers; and that to obviate all the reasonable jealousies generally,
      attending the conduct of foreigners, they, were at liberty to take all
      other precautions they should think proper.
    </p>
    <p>
      Before his admission the Prdsident de Mesmes had loaded me with
      invectives, for secretly corresponding with the enemies of the State, for
      favouring his admission, and for opposing that of my sovereign's herald.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had observed that when the objections against a man are capable of
      making greater impression than his answers, it is his best course to say
      but little, and that he may talk as much as he pleases when he thinks his
      answers of greater force than the objections. I kept strictly to this
      rule, for though the said President artfully pointed his satire at me, I
      sat unconcerned till I found the Parliament was charmed with what the
      envoy had said, and then, in my turn, I was even with the President by
      telling him in short that my respect for the Parliament had obliged me to
      put up with his sarcasms, which I had hitherto endured; and that I did not
      suppose he meant that his sentiments should always be a law to the
      Parliament; that nobody there had a greater esteem for him, with which I
      hoped that the innocent freedom I had taken to speak my mind was not
      inconsistent; that as to the non-admission of the herald, had it not been
      for the motion made by M. Broussel, I should have fallen into the snare
      through overcredulity, and have given my vote for that which might perhaps
      have ended in the destruction of the city, and involved myself in what has
      since fully proved to be a crime by the Queen's late solemn approbation of
      the contrary conduct; and that, as to the envoy, I was silent till I saw
      most of them were for giving him audience, when I thought it better to
      vote the same way than vainly to contest it.
    </p>
    <p>
      This modest and submissive answer of mine to all the scurrilities heaped
      upon me for a fortnight together by the First President and the President
      de Mesmes had an excellent effect upon the members, and obliterated for a
      long time the suspicion that I aimed to govern them by my cabals. The
      President de Mesmes would have replied, but his words were drowned in the
      general clamour. The clock struck five; none had dined, and many had not
      broken their fast, which the Presidents had, and therefore had the
      advantage in disputation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The decree ordering the admission of the Spanish envoy to audience
      directed that a copy of what he said in Parliament, signed with his own
      hand, should be demanded of him, to the end that it might be registered,
      and that, by a solemn deputation, it should be sent to the Queen, with an
      assurance of the fidelity of the Parliament, beseeching her at the same
      time to withdraw her troops from the neighbourhood of Paris and restore
      peace to her people. It being now very late, and the members very hungry,&mdash;circumstances
      that have greater influence than can be imagined in debates, they were
      upon the point of letting this clause pass for want of due attention. The
      President Le Coigneux was the first that discovered the grand mistake,
      and, addressing himself to a great many councillors, who were rising up,
      said, "Gentlemen, pray take your places again, for I have something to
      offer to the House which is of the highest importance to all Europe." When
      they had taken their places he spoke as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "The King of Spain takes us for arbiters of the general peace; it may be
      he is not in earnest, but yet it is a compliment to tell us so. He offers
      us troops to march to our relief, and it is certain he does not deceive us
      in this respect, but highly obliges us. We have heard his envoy, and
      considering the circumstances we are in, we think it right so to do. We
      have resolved to give an account of this matter to the King, which is but
      reasonable; some imagine that we propose to send the original decree, but
      here lies the snake in the grass. I protest, monsieur," added he, turning
      to the First President, "that the members did not understand it so, but
      that the copy only should be carried to Court, and the original be kept in
      the register. I could wish there had been no occasion for explanation,
      because there are some occasions when it is not prudent to speak all that
      one thinks, but since I am forced to it, I must say it without further
      hesitation, that in case we deliver up the original the Spaniards will
      conclude that we expose their proposals for a general peace and our own
      safety to the caprice of Cardinal Mazarin; whereas, by delivering only a
      copy, accompanied with humble entreaties for a general peace, as the
      Parliament has wisely ordered, all Europe will see that we maintain
      ourselves in a condition capable of doing real service both to our King
      and country, if the Cardinal is so blind as not to take a right advantage
      of this opportunity."
    </p>
    <p>
      This discourse was received with the approbation of all the members, who
      cried out from all corners of the House that this was the meaning of the
      House. The gentlemen of the Court of Inquests did not spare the
      Presidents. M. Martineau said publicly that the tenor of this decree was
      that the envoy of Spain should be made much of till they received an
      answer from Saint Germain, which would prove to be another taunt of the
      Cardinal's. Pontcarre said he was not so much afraid of a Spaniard as of a
      Mazarin. In short, the generals had the satisfaction to see that the
      Parliament would not be sorry for any advances they should make towards an
      alliance with Spain.
    </p>
    <p>
      We sent a courier to Brussels, who was guarded ten leagues out of Paris by
      500 horse, with an account of everything done in Parliament, of the
      conditions which the Prince de Conti and the other generals desired for
      entering into a treaty with Spain, and of what engagement I could make in
      my own private capacity.
    </p>
    <p>
      After he had gone I had a conference with M. de Bouillon and his lady
      about the present state of affairs, which I observed was very ticklish;
      that if we were favoured by the general inclination of the people we
      should carry all before us, but that the Parliament, which was our chief
      strength in one sense, was in other respects our main weakness; that they
      were very apt to go backward; that in the very last debate they were on
      the point of twisting a rope for their own necks, and that the First
      President would show Mazarin his true interests, and be glad to amuse us
      by stipulating with the Court for our security without putting us in
      possession of it, and by ending the civil war in the confirmation of our
      slavery. "The Parliament," I said, "inclines to an insecure and scandalous
      peace. We can make the people rise to-morrow if we please; but ought we to
      attempt it? And if we divest the Parliament of its authority, into what an
      abyss of disorders shall we not precipitate Paris? But, on the other hand,
      if we do not raise the people, will the Parliament ever believe we can?
      Will they be hindered from taking any further step in favour of the Court,
      destructive indeed to their own interest, but infallibly ruinous to us
      first?"
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, who did not believe our affairs to be in so critical a
      situation, was, together with his lady, in a state of surprise. The mild
      and honourable answer which the Queen returned to the King's councillors
      in relation to the herald, her protestations that she sincerely forgave
      all the world, and the brilliant gloss of Talon upon her said answer, in
      an instant overturned the former resolutions of the Parliament; and if
      they regained sometimes their wonted vigour, either by some intervening
      accidents or by the skilful management of those who took care to bring
      them back to the right way, they had still an inclination to recede. M. de
      Bouillon being the wisest man of the party, I told him what I thought, and
      with him I concerted proper measures. To the rest, I put on a cheerful
      air, and magnified every little circumstance of affairs to our own
      advantage.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon proposed that we should let the Parliament and the Hotel de
      Ville go on in their own way, and endeavour all we could clandestinely to
      make them odious to the people, and that we should take the first
      opportunity to secure, by banishment or imprisonment, such persons as we
      could not depend upon. He added that Longueville, too, was of opinion that
      there was no remedy left but to purge the Houses. This was exactly like
      him, for never was there a man so positive and violent in his opinion, and
      yet no man living could palliate it with smoother language. Though I
      thought of this expedient before M. de Bouillon, and perhaps could have
      said more for it, because I saw the possibility of it much clearer than
      he, yet I would not give him to understand that I had thought of it,
      because I knew he had the vanity to love to be esteemed the first author
      of things, which was the only weakness I observed in his managing State
      affairs. I left him an answer in writing, in substance as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I confess the scheme is very feasible, but attended with pernicious
      consequences both to the public and to private persons, for the same
      people whom you employ to humble the magistracy will refuse you obedience
      when you demand from them the same homage they paid to the magistrates.
      This people adored the Parliament till the beginning of the war; they are
      still for continuing the war, and yet abate their friendship for the
      Parliament. The Parliament imagines that this applies only to some
      particular members who are Mazarined, but they are deceived, for their
      prejudice extends to the whole company, and their hatred towards Mazarin's
      party supports and screens their indifference towards all the rest. We
      cheer up their spirits by pasquinades and ballads and the martial sound of
      trumpets and kettle-drums, but, after all, do they pay their taxes as
      punctually as they did the first few weeks? Are there many that have done
      as you and I, monsieur, who sent our plate to the mint? Do you not observe
      that they who would be thought zealous for the common cause plead in
      favour of some acts committed by those men who are, in short, its enemies?
      If the people are so tired already, what will they be long before they
      come to their journey's end?
    </p>
    <p>
      "After we have established our own authority upon the ruin of the
      Parliament's, we shall certainly fall into the same inconveniences and be
      obliged to act just as they do now. We shall impose taxes, raise moneys,
      and differ from the Parliament only in this, that the hatred and envy they
      have contracted by various ways from one-third part of the people,&mdash;I
      mean the wealthy citizens,&mdash;in the space of six weeks will devolve
      upon us, with that of the other two-thirds of the inhabitants, and will
      complete our ruin in one week. May not the Court to-morrow put an end to
      the civil war by the expulsion of Mazarin and by raising the siege of
      Paris? The provinces are not yet sufficiently inflamed, and therefore we
      must double our application to make the most of Paris. Besides the
      necessity of treating with Spain and managing the people, there is another
      expedient come into my head capable of rendering us as considerable in
      Parliament as our affairs require.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We have an army in Paris which will be looked upon as the people so long
      as it continues within its walls. Every councillor of inquest is inclined
      to believe his authority among the soldiers to be equal to that of the
      generals. But the leaders of the people are not believed to be very
      powerful until they make their power known by its execution. Pray do but
      consider the conduct of the Court upon this occasion. Was there any
      minister or courtier but ridiculed all that could be said of the
      disposition of the people in favour of the Parliament even to the day of
      the barricades? And yet it is as true that every man at Court saw
      infallible marks of the revolution beforehand. One would have thought that
      the barricades should have convinced them; but have they been convinced?
      Have they been hindered from besieging Paris on the slight supposition
      that, though the caprice of the people might run them into a mutiny, yet
      it would not break out into a civil war? What we are now doing might
      undeceive them effectually; but are they yet cured of their infatuation?
      Is not the Queen told every day that none are for the Parliament but hired
      mobs, and that all the wealthy burghers are in her Majesty's interests?
    </p>
    <p>
      "The Parliament is now as much infatuated as the Court was then. This
      present disturbance among the people carries in it all the marks of power
      which, in a little time, they will feel the effects of, and which, as they
      cannot but foresee, they ought to prevent in time, because of the murmurs
      of the people against them and their redoubled affection for M. de
      Beaufort and me. But far from it, the Parliament will never open its eyes
      until all its authority is quashed by a sudden blow. If they see we have a
      design against them they will, perhaps, have so inconsiderable an opinion
      of it that they will take courage, and if we should but flinch, they will
      bear harder still upon us, till we shall be forced to crush them; but this
      would not turn to our account; on the contrary, it is our true interest to
      do them all the good we can, lest we divide our own party, and to behave
      in such a manner as may convince them that our interest and theirs are
      inseparable. And the best way is to draw our army out of Paris, and to
      post it so as it may be ready to secure our convoys and be safe from the
      insults of the enemy; and I am for having this done at the request of the
      Parliament, to prevent their taking umbrage, till such time at least as we
      may find our account in it. Such precautions will insensibly, as it were,
      necessitate the Parliament to act in concert with us, and our favour among
      the people, which is the only thing that can fix us in that situation,
      will appear to them no longer contemptible when they see it backed by an
      army which is no longer at their discretion."
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon told me that M. de Turenne was upon the point of declaring
      for us, and that there were but two colonels in all his army who gave him
      any uneasiness, but that in a week's time he would find some way or other
      to manage them, and that then he would march directly to our assistance.
      "What do you think of that?" said the Duke. "Are we not now masters both
      of the Court and Parliament?"
    </p>
    <p>
      I told the Duke that I had just seen a letter written by Hoquincourt to
      Madame de Montbazon, wherein were only these words: "O fairest of all
      beauties, Peronne is in your power." I added that I had received another
      letter that morning which assured me of Mazieres. Madame de Bouillon threw
      herself on my neck; we were sure the day was our own, and in a quarter of
      an hour agreed upon all the preliminary precautions.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, perceiving that I was so overjoyed at this news that I, as
      well as his lady, gave little attention to the methods he was proposing
      for drawing the army out of Paris without alarming the Parliament, turned
      to me and spoke thus, very hastily: "I pardon my wife, but I cannot
      forgive you this inadvertence. The old Prince of Orange used to say that
      the moment one received good news should be employed in providing against
      bad."
    </p>
    <p>
      The 24th of February, 1649, the Parliament's deputies waited on the Queen
      with an account of the audience granted to the envoy of the Archduke. The
      Queen told them that they should not have given audience to the envoy, but
      that, seeing they had done it, it was absolutely necessary to think of a
      good peace,&mdash;that she was entirely well disposed; and the Duc
      d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde promised the deputies to throw open all
      the passages as soon as the Parliament should name commissioners for the
      treaty.
    </p>
    <p>
      Flamarin being sent at the same time into the city from the Duc d'Orleans
      to condole with the Queen of England on the death of her husband (King
      Charles I.), went, at La Riviere's solicitation, to M. de La
      Rochefoucault, whom he found in his bed on account of his wounds and quite
      wearied with the civil war, and persuaded him to come over to the Court
      interest. He told Flamarin that he had been drawn into this war much
      against his inclinations, and that, had he returned from Poitou two months
      before the siege of Paris, he would have prevented Madame de Longueville
      engaging in so vile a cause, but that I had taken the opportunity of his
      absence to engage both her and the Prince de Conti, that he found the
      engagements too far advanced to be possibly dissolved, that the diabolical
      Coadjutor would not bear of any terms of peace, and also stopped the ears
      of the Prince de Conti and Madame de Longueville, and that he himself
      could not act as he would because of his bad state of health. I was
      informed of Flamarin's negotiations for the Court interest, and, as the
      term of his passport had expired, ordered the 'prevot des marchands' to
      command him to depart from the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 27th the First President reported to the Parliament what had
      occurred at Saint Germain. M. de Beaufort and I had to hinder the people
      from entering the Great Chamber, for they threatened to throw the deputies
      into the river, and said they had betrayed them and had held conferences
      with Mazarin. It was as much as we could do to allay the fury of the
      people, though at the same time the Parliament believed the tumult was of
      our own raising. This shows one inconvenience of popularity, namely, that
      what is committed by the rabble, in spite of all your endeavours to the
      contrary, will still be laid to your charge.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meanwhile we met at the Duc de Bouillon's to consider what was best to be
      done at this critical juncture between a people mad for war, a Parliament
      for peace, and the Spaniards either for peace or war at our expense and
      for their own advantage. The Prince de Conti, instructed beforehand by M.
      de La Rochefoucault, spoke for carrying on the war, but acted as if he
      were for peace, and upon the whole I did not doubt but that he waited for
      some answer from Saint Germain. M. d'Elbeuf made a silly proposal to send
      the Parliament in a body to the Bastille. M. de Beaufort, whom we could
      not entrust with any important secret because of Madame de Montbazon, who
      was very false, wondered that his and my credit with the people was not
      made use of on this occasion.
    </p>
    <p>
      It being very evident that the Parliament would greedily catch at the
      treaty of peace proposed by the Court, it was in a manner impossible to
      answer those who urged that the only way to prevent it was to hinder their
      debates by raising tumults among the people. M. de Beaufort held up both
      his hands for it. M. d'Elbeuf, who had lately received a letter from La
      Riviere full of contempt, talked like an officer of the army. When I
      considered the great risk I ran if I did not prevent a tumult, which would
      certainly be laid at my door, and that, on the other hand, I did not dare
      to say all I could to stop such commotion, I was at a loss what to do. But
      considering the temper of the populace, who might have been up in arms
      with a word from a person of any credit among us, I declared publicly that
      I was not for altering our measures till we knew what we were to expect
      from the Spaniards.
    </p>
    <p>
      I experienced on this occasion that civil wars are attended with this
      great inconvenience, that there is more need of caution in what we say to
      our friends than in what we do against our enemies. I did not fail to
      bring the company to my mind, especially when supported by M. de Bouillon,
      who was convinced that the confusion which would happen in such a juncture
      would turn with vengeance upon the authors. But when the company was gone
      he told me he was resolved to free himself from the tyranny, or, rather,
      pedantry of the Parliament as soon as the treaty with Spain was concluded,
      and M. de Turenne had declared himself publicly, and as soon as our army
      was without the walls of Paris. I answered that upon M. de Turenne's
      declaration I would promise him my concurrence, but that till then I could
      not separate from the Parliament, much less oppose them, without the
      danger of being banished to Brussels; that as for his own part, he might
      come off better because of his knowledge of military affairs, and of the
      assurances which Spain was able to give him, but, nevertheless, I desired
      him to remember M. d'Aumale, who fell into the depth of poverty as soon as
      he had lost all protection but that of Spain, and, consequently, that it
      was his interest as well as mine to side with the Parliament till we
      ourselves had secured some position in the kingdom; till the Spanish army,
      was actually on the march and our troops were encamped without the city;
      and till the declaration of M. de Turenne was carried out, which would be
      the decisive blow, because it would strengthen our party with a body of
      troops altogether independent of strangers, or rather it would form a
      party perfectly French, capable by its own strength to carry on our cause.
    </p>
    <p>
      This last consideration overjoyed Madame de Bouillon, who, however, when
      she found that the company was gone without resolving to make themselves
      masters of the Parliament, became very angry, and said to the Duke:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I told you beforehand that you would be swayed by the Coadjutor."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke replied: "What! madame, would you have the Coadjutor, for our
      sakes only, run the risk of being no more than chaplain to Fuensaldagne?
      Is it possible that you cannot comprehend what he has been preaching to
      you for these last three days?"
    </p>
    <p>
      I replied to her with a great deal of temper, and said, "Don't you think
      that we shall act more securely when our troops are out of Paris, when we
      receive the Archduke's answer, and when Turenne has made a public
      declaration?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, I do," she said, "but the Parliament will take one step to-morrow
      which will render all your preliminaries of no use."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Never fear, madame," said I, "I will undertake that, if our measures
      succeed, we shall be in a condition to despise all that the Parliament can
      do."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Will you promise it?" she asked.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," said I, "and, more than that, I am ready to seal it with my blood."
    </p>
    <p>
      She took me at my word, and though the Duke used all the arguments with
      her which he could think of, she bound my thumb with silk, and with a
      needle drew blood, with which she obliged me to sign a promissory note as
      follows: "I promise to Madame la Duchesse de Bouillon to continue united
      with the Duke her husband against the Parliament in case M. de Turenne
      approaches with the army under his command within twenty leagues of Paris
      and declares for the city." M. de Bouillon threw it into the fire, and
      endeavoured to convince the Duchess of what I had said, that if our
      preliminaries should succeed we should still stand upon our own bottom,
      notwithstanding all that the Parliament could do, and that if they did
      miscarry we should still have the satisfaction of not being the authors of
      a confusion which would infallibly cover me with shame and ruin, and be an
      uncertain advantage to the family of De Bouillon.
    </p>
    <p>
      During this discussion a captain in M. d'Elbeuf's regiment of Guards was
      seen to throw money to the crowd to encourage them to go to the Parliament
      House and cry out, "No peace!" upon which M. de Bouillon and I agreed to
      send the Duke these words upon the back of a card: "It will be dangerous
      for you to be at the Parliament House to-morrow." M. d'Elbeuf came in all
      haste to the Palace of Bouillon to know the meaning of this short caution.
      M. de Bouillon told him he had heard that the people had got a notion that
      both the Duke and himself held a correspondence with Mazarin, and that
      therefore it was their best way not to go to the House for fear of the
      mob, which might be expected there next day.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. d'Elbeuf, knowing that the people did not care for him, and that he was
      no safer in his own house than elsewhere, said that he feared his absence
      on such an occasion might be interpreted to his disadvantage. M. de
      Bouillon, having no other design but to alarm him with imaginary fears of
      a public disturbance, at once made himself sure of him another way, by
      telling him it was most advisable for him to be at the Parliament, but
      that he need not expose himself, and therefore had best go along with me.
    </p>
    <p>
      I went with him accordingly, and found a multitude of people in the Great
      Hall, crying, "God bless the Coadjutor! no peace! no Mazarin!" and M. de
      Beaufort entering another way at the same time, the echoes of our names
      spread everywhere, so that the people mistook it for a concerted design to
      disturb the proceedings of Parliament, and as in a commotion everything
      that confirms us in the belief of it augments likewise the number of
      mutineers, we were very near bringing about in one moment what we had been
      a whole week labouring to prevent.
    </p>
    <p>
      The First President and President de Mesmes having, in concert with the
      other deputies, suppressed the answer the Queen made them in writing, lest
      some harsh expressions contained therein should give offence, put the best
      colour they could upon the obliging terms in which the Queen had spoken to
      them; and then the House appointed commissioners for the treaty, leaving
      it to the Queen to name the place, and agreed to send the King's Council
      next day to demand the opening of the passages, in pursuance of the
      Queen's promise. The President de Mesmes, surprised to meet with no
      opposition, either from the generals or myself, said to the First
      President, "Here is a wonderful harmony! but I fear the consequences of
      this dissembled moderation." I believe he was much more surprised when the
      sergeants came to acquaint the House that the mob threatened to murder all
      that were for the conference before Mazarin was sent out of the kingdom.
      But M. de Beaufort and I went out and soon dispersed them, so that the
      members retired without the least danger, which inspired the Parliament
      with such a degree of boldness afterwards that it nearly proved their
      ruin.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 2d of March, 1649, letters were brought to the Parliament from the
      Duc d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde, expressing a great deal of joy at
      what the Parliament had done, but denying that the Queen had promised to
      throw open the passages, upon which the Parliament fell into such a rage
      as I cannot describe to you. They sent orders to the King's Council, who
      were gone that morning to Saint Germain to fetch the passports for the
      deputies, to declare that the Parliament was resolved to hold no
      conference with the Court till the Queen had performed her promise made to
      the First President. I thought it a very proper time to let the Court see
      that the Parliament had not lost all its vigour, and made a motion, by
      Broussel, that, considering the insincerity of the Court, the levies might
      be continued and new commissions given out. The proposition was received
      with applause, and the Prince de Conti was desired to issue commissions
      accordingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort, in concert with M. de Bouillon, M. de La Mothe and myself,
      exclaimed against this contravention, and offered, in the name of his
      colleagues and his own, to open all the passages themselves if the
      Parliament would but take a firm resolution and be no more beguiled by
      deceitful proposals, which had only served to keep the whole nation in
      suspense, who would otherwise have declared by this time in favour of its
      capital. It is inconceivable what influence these few words had upon the
      audience, everybody concluded that the treaty was already broken off; but
      a moment after they thought the contrary, for the King's Council returned
      with the passports for the deputies, and instead of an order for opening
      the passages, a grant&mdash;such a one as it was&mdash;of 500 quarters of
      corn per diem was made for the subsistence of the city. However, the
      Parliament took all in good part; all that had been said and done a
      quarter of an hour before was buried in oblivion, and they made
      preparations to go next day to Ruel, the place named by the Queen for the
      conference.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conti, M. de Beaufort, M. d'Elbeuf, Marechal de La Mothe, M.
      de Brissac, President Bellievre, and myself met that night at M. de
      Bouillon's house, where a motion was made for the generals of the army to
      send a deputation likewise to the place of conference; but it was quashed,
      and indeed nothing would have been more absurd than such a proceeding when
      we were upon the point of concluding a treaty with Spain; and, considering
      that we told the envoy that we should never have consented to hold any
      conference with the Court were we not assured that it was in our power to
      break it off at pleasure by means of the people.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament having lately reproached both the generals and troops with
      being afraid to venture without the gates, M. de Bouillon, seeing the
      danger was over, proposed at this meeting, for the satisfaction of the
      citizens, to carry them to a camp betwixt the Marne and the Seine, where
      they might be as safe as at Paris. The motion was agreed to without
      consulting the Parliament, and, accordingly, on the 4th of March, the
      troops marched out and the deputies of Parliament went to Ruel.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court party flattered themselves that, upon the marching of the
      militia out of Paris, the citizens, being left to themselves, would become
      more tractable, and the President de Mesmes made his boast of what he said
      to the generals, to persuade them to encamp their army. But Senneterre,
      one of the ablest men at Court, soon penetrated our designs and undeceived
      the Court. He told the First President and De Mesmes that they were
      beguiled and that they would see it in a little time. The First President,
      who could never see two different things at one view, was so overjoyed
      when he heard the forces had gone out of Paris that he cried out:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now the Coadjutor will have no more mercenary brawlers at the Parliament
      House."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nor," said the President de Mesmes, "so many cutthroats."
    </p>
    <p>
      Senneterre, like a wise man, said to them both:
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is not the Coadjutor's interest to murder you, but to bring you under.
      The people would serve his turn for the first if he aimed at it, and the
      army is admirably well encamped for the latter. If he is not a more honest
      man than he is looked upon to be here, we are likely to have a tedious
      civil war."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal confessed that Senneterre was in the right, for, on the one
      hand, the Prince de Conde perceived that our army, being so advantageously
      posted as not to be attacked, would be capable of giving him more trouble
      than if they were still within the walls of the city, and, on the other
      hand, we began to talk with more courage in Parliament than usual.
    </p>
    <p>
      The afternoon of the 4th of March gave us a just occasion to show it. The
      deputies arriving at Ruel understood that Cardinal Mazarin was one of the
      commissioners named by the Queen to assist at the conference. The
      Parliamentary deputies pretended that they could not confer with a person
      actually condemned by Parliament. M. de Tellier told them in the name of
      the Duc d'Orleans that the Queen thought it strange that they were not
      contented to treat upon an equality with their sovereign, but that they
      should presume to limit his authority by excluding his deputies. The First
      President and the Court seeming to be immovable, we sent orders to our
      deputies not to comply, and to communicate, as a great secret, to
      President de Mesmes and M. Menardeau, both creatures of the Court, the
      following postscript of a letter I wrote to Longueville:
    </p>
    <p>
      "P.S.&mdash;We have concerted our measures, and are now capable to speak
      more to the purpose than we have been hitherto, and since I finished this
      letter I have received a piece of news which obliges me to tell you that
      if the Parliament do not behave very prudently, they will certainly be
      ruined."
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this the deputies were resolved to insist upon excluding the Cardinal
      from the conference, a determination which was so odious to the people
      that, had we permitted it, we should certainly have lost all our credit
      with them, and been obliged to shut the gates against our deputies upon
      their return.
    </p>
    <p>
      When the Court saw that the deputies desired a convoy to conduct them
      home, they found out an expedient, which was received with great joy;
      namely, to appoint two deputies on the part of the Parliament, and two on
      the part of the King, to confer at the house of the Duc d'Orleans,
      exclusive of the Cardinal, who was thereupon obliged to return to Saint
      Germain with mortification.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 5th of March, Don Francisco Pisarro, a second envoy from the
      Archduke, arrived in Paris, with his and Count Fuensaldagne's answer to
      our former despatches by Don Jose d'Illescas, and full powers for a
      treaty; instructions for M. de Bouillon, an obliging letter from the
      Archduke to the Prince de Conti, and another to myself, from Count
      Fuensaldagne, importing that the King, his master, would not take my word,
      but would depend upon whatever I promised Madame de Bouillon.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conti and Madame de Longueville, prompted by M. de La
      Rochefoucault, were for an alliance with Spain, in a manner without
      restriction. M. d'Elbeuf aimed at nothing but getting money. M. de
      Beaufort, at the persuasion of Madame de Montbazon, who was resolved to
      sell him dear to the Spaniards, was very scrupulous to enter into a treaty
      with the enemies of the State; Marechal de La Mothe declared he could not
      come to any resolution till he saw M. de Longueville, and Madame de
      Longueville questioned whether her husband would come into it; and yet
      these very persons but a fortnight before unanimously wrote to the
      Archduke for full powers to treat with him.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon told them that he thought they were absolutely obliged to
      treat with Spain, considering the advances they had already made to the
      Archduke to that end, and desired them to recollect how they had told his
      envoy that they waited only for these full powers and instructions to
      treat with him; that the Archduke had now sent his full powers in the most
      obliging manner; and that, moreover, he had already gone out of Brussels,
      to lead his army himself to their assistance, without staying for their
      engagement. He begged them to consider that if they took the least step
      backwards, after such advances, it might provoke Spain to take such
      measures as would be both contrary to our security and to our honour; that
      the ill-concerted proceedings of the Parliament gave us just grounds to
      fear being left to shift for ourselves; that indeed our army was now more
      useful than it had been before, but&mdash;yet not strong enough to give us
      relief in proportion to our necessities, especially if it were not, at
      least in the beginning, supported by a powerful force; and that,
      consequently, a treaty was necessary to be entered into and concluded with
      the Archduke, but not upon any mean conditions; that his envoys had
      brought carte blanche, but that we ought to consider how to fill it up;
      that he promised us everything, but though in treaties the strongest may
      safely promise to the weaker what he thinks fit, it is certain he cannot
      perform everything, and therefore the weakest should be very wary.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke added that the Spaniards, of all people, expected honourable
      usage at the beginning of treaties, and he conjured them to leave the
      management of the Spanish envoys to himself and the Coadjutor, "who," said
      he, "has declared all along that he expects no advantage either from the
      present troubles or from any arrangement, and is therefore altogether to
      be depended upon."
    </p>
    <p>
      This discourse was relished by all the company, who accordingly engaged us
      to compare notes with the envoys of Spain, and make our report to the
      Prince de Conti and the other generals.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon assured me that the Spaniards would not enter upon French
      ground till we engaged ourselves not to lay down our arms except in
      conjunction with them; that is, in a treaty for a general peace; but our
      difficulty was how to enter into an engagement of that nature at a time
      when we could not be sure but that the Parliament might conclude a
      particular peace the next moment. In the meantime a courier came in from
      M. de Turenne, crying, "Good news!" as he entered into the court. He
      brought letters for Madame and Mademoiselle de Bouillon and myself, by
      which we were assured that M. de Turenne and his army, which was without
      dispute the finest at that time in all Europe, had declared for us; that
      Erlach, Governor of Brisac, had with him 1,000 or 1,200 men, who were all
      he had been able to seduce; that my dear friend and kinsman, the Vicomte
      de Lamet, was marching directly to our assistance with 2,000 horse; and
      that M. de Turenne was to follow on such a day with the larger part of the
      army. You will be surprised, without doubt, to hear that M. de Turenne,
      General of the King's troops, one who was never a party man, and would
      never hear talk of party intrigues, should now declare against the Court
      and perform an action which, I am sure, Le Balafre and Amiral de Coligny
      would not have undertaken without hesitation.
    </p>
    <p>
      [Henri de Lorraine, first of that name, Duc de Guise, surnamed Le Balafre,
      because of a wound he received in the left cheek at the battle of Dormans,
      the scar of which he carried to his grave. He formed the League, and was
      stabbed at an assembly of the States of Blois in 1588.]
    </p>
    <p>
      Your wonder will increase yet more when I tell you that the motive of this
      surprising conduct of his is a secret to this day. His behaviour also
      during his declaration, which he supported but five days, is equally
      surprising and mysterious. This shows that it is possible for some
      extraordinary characters to be raised above the malice and envy of vulgar
      souls; for the merit of any person inferior to the Marshal must have been
      totally eclipsed by such an unaccountable event.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon the arrival of this express from Turenne I told M. de Bouillon it was
      my opinion that, if the Spaniards would engage to advance as far as
      Pont-a-Verre and act on this side of it in concert only with us, we should
      make no scruple of pledging ourselves not to lay down our arms till the
      conclusion of a general peace, provided they kept their promise given to
      the Parliament of referring themselves to its arbitration. "The true
      interest of the public," said I, "is a general peace, that of the
      Parliament and other bodies is the reestablishment of good order, and that
      of your Grace and others, with myself, is to contribute to the
      before-mentioned blessings in such manner that we may be esteemed the
      authors of them; all other advantages are necessarily attached to this,
      and the only way to acquire them is to show that we do not value them. You
      know that I have frequently vowed I had no private interest to serve in
      this affair, and I will keep my vow to the end. Your circumstances are
      different from mine; you aim at Sedan, and you are in the right. M. de
      Beaufort wants to be admiral, and I cannot blame him. M. de Longueville
      has other demands&mdash;with all my heart. The Prince de Conti and Madame
      de Longueville would be, for the future, independent of the Prince de
      Conde; that independence they shall have.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Now, in order to attain to these ends, the only means is to look another
      way, to turn all our thoughts to bring about a general peace, and to sign
      to-morrow the most solemn and positive engagement with the enemy, and, the
      better to please the public, to insert in the articles the expulsion of
      Cardinal Mazarin as their mortal enemy, to cause the Spanish forces to
      come up immediately to Pont-a-Verre, and those of M. de Turenne to advance
      into Champagne, and to go without any loss of time to propose to the
      Parliament what Don Josh d'Illescas has offered them already in relation
      to a general peace, to dispose them to vote as we would have them, which
      they will not fail to do considering the circumstances we are now in, and
      to send orders to our deputies at Ruel either to get the Queen to nominate
      a place to confer about a general peace or to return the next day to their
      seats in Parliament. I am willing to think that the Court, seeing to what
      an extremity they are reduced, will comply, than which what can be more
      for our honour?
    </p>
    <p>
      "And if the Court should refuse this proposition at present, will they not
      be of another mind before two months are at an end? Will not the
      provinces, which are already hesitating, then declare in our favour? And
      is the army of the Prince de Conde in a condition to engage that of Spain
      and ours in conjunction with that of M. de Turenne? These two last, when
      joined, will put us above all the apprehensions from foreign forces which
      have hitherto made us uneasy; they will depend much more on us than we on
      them; we shall continue masters of Paris by our own strength, and the more
      securely because the intervening authority of Parliament will the more
      firmly unite us to the people. The declaration of M. de Turenne is the
      only means to unite Spain with the Parliament for our defence, which we
      could not have as much as hoped for otherwise; it gives us an opportunity
      to engage with Parliament, in concert with whom we cannot act amiss, and
      this is the only moment when such an engagement is both possible and
      profitable. The First President and De Mesmes are now out of the way, and
      it will be much easier for us to obtain what we want in Parliament than if
      they were present, and if what is commanded in the Parliamentary decree is
      faithfully executed, we shall gain our point, and unite the Chambers for
      that great work of a general peace. If the Court still rejects our
      proposals, and those of the deputies who are for the Court refuse to
      follow our motion or to share in our fortune, we shall gain as much in
      another respect; we shall keep ourselves still attached to the body of the
      Parliament, from which they will be deemed deserters, and we shall have
      much greater weight in the House than now.
    </p>
    <p>
      "This is my opinion, which I am willing to sign and to offer to the
      Parliament if you seize this, the only opportunity. For if M. de Turenne
      should alter his mind before it be done, I should then oppose this scheme
      with as much warmth as I now recommend it."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke said in answer: "Nothing can have a more promising aspect than
      what you have now proposed; it is very practicable, but equally pernicious
      for all private persons. Spain will promise all, but perform nothing after
      we have once promised to enter into no treaty, with the Court but for a
      general peace. This being the only thing the Spaniards have in view, they
      will abandon us as soon as they, can obtain it, and if we urge on this
      great scheme at once, as you would have us, they would undoubtedly obtain
      it in a fortnight's time, for France would certainly make it with
      precipitation, and I know the Spaniards would be glad to purchase it on
      any terms. This being the case, in what a condition shall we be the next
      day after we have made and procured this general peace? We should indeed
      have the honour of it, but would this honour screen us against the hatred
      and curses of the Court? Would the house of Austria take up arms again to
      rescue you and me from a prison? You will say, perhaps, we may stipulate
      some conditions with Spain which may secure us from all insults of this
      kind; but I think I shall have answered this objection when I assure you
      that Spain is so pressed with home troubles that she would not hesitate,
      for the sake of peace, to break the most solemn promises made to us; and
      this is an inconvenience for which I see no remedy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "If Spain should be worse than her word with respect to the expulsion of
      Mazarin, what will become of us? And will the honour of our contributing
      to the general peace atone for the preservation of a minister to get rid
      of whom they took up arms? You know how they abhor the Cardinal; and,
      suppose the Cardinal be excluded from the Ministry, according to promise,
      shall we not still be exposed to the hatred of the Queen, to the
      resentment of the Prince de Conde, and to all the evil consequences that
      may be expected from an enraged Court for such an action? There is no true
      glory but what is durable; transitory honour is mere smoke. Of this sort
      is that which we shall acquire by this peace, if we do not support it by
      such alliances as will gain us the reputation of wisdom as well as of
      honesty. I admire your disinterestedness above all, and esteem it, but I
      am very well assured that if mine went the length of yours you would not,
      approve of it. Your family is settled; consider mine, and cast your eyes
      on the condition of this lady and on that of both the father and
      children."
    </p>
    <p>
      I answered: "The Spaniards must needs have great regard for us, seeing us
      absolute masters of Paris, with eight thousand foot and three thousand
      horse at its gates, and the best disciplined troops in the world marching
      to our assistance." I did all I could to bring him over to my opinion, and
      he strove as much to persuade me to enter into his measures; namely, to
      pretend to the envoys that we were absolutely resolved to act in concert
      with them for a general peace, but to tell them at the same time that we
      thought it more proper that the Parliament should likewise be consulted;
      and, as that would require some time, we might in the meanwhile occupy the
      envoys by signing a treaty with them, previous to coming to terms with.
      The Parliament, which by its tenor would not tie us up to conclude
      anything positively in relation to the general peace; "yet this," said he,
      "would be a sufficient motive to cause them to advance with their army,
      and that of my brother will come up at the same time, which will astonish
      the Court and incline them to an arrangement. And forasmuch as in our
      treaty with Spain we leave a back door open by the clause which relates to
      the Parliament, we shall be sure to make good use of it for the advantage
      of the public and of ourselves in case of the Court's noncompliance."
    </p>
    <p>
      These considerations, though profoundly wise, did not convince me, because
      I thought his inference was not well-grounded. I saw he might well enough
      engage the attention of the envoys, but I could not imagine how he could
      beguile the Parliament, who were actually treating with the Court by their
      deputies sent to Ruel, and who would certainly run madly into a peace,
      notwithstanding all their late performances. I foresaw that without a
      public declaration to restrain the Parliament from going their own lengths
      we should fall again, if one of our strings chanced to break, into the
      necessity of courting the assistance of the people, which I looked upon as
      the most dangerous proceeding of all.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon asked me what I meant by saying, "if one of our strings
      chanced to break." I replied, "For example, if M. de Turenne should be
      dead at this juncture, or if his army has revolted, as it was likely to do
      under the influence of M. d'Erlach, pray what would become of us if we
      should not engage the Parliament? We should be tribunes of the people one
      day, and the next valets de chambre to Count Fuensaldagne. Everything with
      the Parliament and nothing without them is the burden of my song."
    </p>
    <p>
      After several hours' dispute neither of us was convinced, and I went away
      very much perplexed, the rather because M. de Bouillon, being the great
      confidant of the Spaniards, I doubted not but he could make their envoys
      believe what he pleased.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was still more puzzled when I came home and found a letter from Madame
      de Lesdiguieres, offering me extraordinary advantages in the Queen's name
      the payment of my debts, the grant of certain abbeys, and a nomination to
      the dignity of cardinal. Another note I found with these words: "The
      declaration of the army of Germany has put us all into consternation." I
      concluded they would not fail to try experiments with others as well as
      myself, and since M. de Bouillon began to think of a back door when all
      things smiled upon us, I guessed the rest of our party would not neglect
      to enter the great door now flung open to receive them by the declaration
      of M. de Turenne. That which afflicted me most of all was to see that M.
      de Bouillon was not a man of that judgment and penetration I took him for
      in this critical and decisive juncture, when the question was the engaging
      or not engaging the Parliament. He had urged me more than twenty times to
      do what I now offered, and the reason why I now urged what I before
      rejected was the declaration of M. de Turenne, his own brother, which
      should have made him bolder than I; but, instead of this, it slackened his
      courage, and he flattered himself that Cardinal Mazarin would let him have
      Sedan. This was the centre of all his views, and he preferred these petty
      advantages to what he might have gained by procuring peace to Europe. This
      false step made me pass this judgment upon the Duke: that, though he was a
      person of very great parts, yet I questioned his capacity for the mighty
      things which he has not done, and of which some men thought him very
      capable. It is the greatest remissness on the part of a great man to
      neglect the moment that is to make his reputation, and this negligence,
      indeed, scarcely ever happens but when a man expects another moment as
      favourable to make his fortune; and so people are commonly deceived both
      ways.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke was more nice than wise at this juncture, which is very often the
      case. I found afterwards that the Prince de Conti was of his opinion, and
      I guessed, by some circumstances, that he was engaged in some private
      negotiation. M. d'Elbeuf was as meek as a lamb, and seemed, as far as he
      dared, to improve what had been advanced already by M. de Bouillon. A
      servant of his told me also that he believed his master had made his peace
      with the Court. M. de Beaufort showed by his behaviour that Madame de
      Montbazon had done what she could to cool his courage, but his
      irresolution did not embarrass me very much, because I knew I had her in
      my power, and his vote, added to that of MM. de Brissac, de La Mothe, de
      Noirmoutier and de Bellievre, who all fell in with my sentiments, would
      have turned the balance on my side if the regard for M. de Turenne, who
      was now the life and soul of the party, and the Spaniards' confidence in
      M. de Bouillon, had not obliged me to make a virtue of necessity.
    </p>
    <p>
      I found both the Archduke's envoys quite of an other mind; indeed, they
      were still desirous of an agreement for a general peace, but they would
      have it after the manner of M. de Bouillon, at two separate times, which
      he had made them believe would be more for their advantage, because
      thereby we should bring the Parliament into it. I saw who was at the
      bottom of it, and, considering the orders they had to follow his advice in
      everything, all I could allege to the contrary would be of no use. I laid
      the state of affairs before the President de Bellievre, who was of my
      opinion, and considered that a contrary course would infallibly prove our
      ruin, thinking, nevertheless, that compliance would be highly convenient
      at this time, because we depended absolutely on the Spaniards and on M. de
      Turenne, who had hitherto made no proposals but such as were dictated by
      M. de Bouillon.
    </p>
    <p>
      When I found that all M. de Bellievre and I said could not persuade M. de
      Bouillon, I feigned to come round to his opinion, and to submit to the
      authority of the Prince de Conti, our Generalissimo. We agreed to treat
      with the Archduke upon the plan of M. de Bouillon; that is, that he should
      advance his army as far as Pont-A-Verre, and further, if the generals
      desired it; who, on their part, would omit nothing to oblige the
      Parliament to enter into this treaty, or rather, to make a new one for a
      general peace; that is to say, to oblige the King to treat upon reasonable
      conditions, the particulars whereof his Catholic Majesty would refer to
      the arbitration of the Parliament. M. de Bouillon engaged to have this
      treaty 'in totidem verbis' signed by the Spanish ministers, and did not so
      much as ask me whether I would sign it or no. All the company rejoiced at
      having the Spaniards' assistance upon such easy terms, and at being at
      full liberty to receive the propositions of the Court, which now, upon the
      declaration of M. de Turenne, could not fail to be very advantageous.
    </p>
    <p>
      The treaty was accordingly signed in the Prince de Conti's room at the
      Hotel de Ville, but I forbore to set my hand to it, though solicited by M.
      de Bouillon, unless they would come to some final resolution; yet I gave
      them my word that, if the Parliament would be contented, I had such
      expedients in my power as would give them all the time necessary to
      withdraw their troops. I had two reasons for what I said: first, I knew
      Fuensaldagne to be a wise man, that he would be of a different opinion
      from his envoys, and that he would never venture his army into the heart
      of the kingdom with so little assurance from the generals and none at all
      from me; secondly, because I was willing to show to our generals that I
      would not, as far as it lay in my power, suffer the Spaniards to be
      treacherously surprised or insulted in case of an arrangement between the
      Court and the Parliament; though I had protested twenty times in the same
      conference that I would not separate myself from the Parliament.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. d'Elbeuf said, "You cannot find the expedients you talk of but in
      having recourse to the people."
    </p>
    <p>
      "M. de Bouillon will answer for me," said I, "that it is not there that I
      am to find my expedients."
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, being desirous that I should sign, said, "I know that it
      is not your intent, but I am fully persuaded that you mean well, that you
      do not act as you would propose, and that we retain more respect for the
      Parliament by signing than you do by refusing to sign; for," speaking very
      low, that he might not be heard by the Spanish ministers, "we keep a back
      door open to get off handsomely with the Parliament."
    </p>
    <p>
      "They will open that door," said I, "when you could wish it shut, as is
      but too apparent already, and you will be glad to shut it when you cannot;
      the Parliament is not a body to be jested with."
    </p>
    <p>
      After the signing of the treaty, I was told that the envoys had given
      2,000 pistoles to Madame de Montbazon and as much to M. d'Elbeuf.
    </p>
    <p>
      De Bellievre, who waited for me at home, whither I returned full of
      vexation, used an expression which has been since verified by the event:
      "We failed, this day," said he, "to induce the Parliament, which if we had
      done, all had been safe and right. Pray God that everything goes well, for
      if but one of our strings fails us we are undone."
    </p>
    <p>
      As for the conferences for a peace with the Court at Ruel, it was proposed
      on the Queen's part that the Parliament should adjourn their session to
      Saint Germain, just to ratify the articles of the peace, and not to meet
      afterwards for two or three years; but the deputies of Parliament insisted
      that it was their privilege to assemble when and where they pleased. When
      these and the like stories came to the ears of the Parisians they were so
      incensed that the only talk of the Great Chamber was to recall the
      deputies, and the generals seeing themselves now respected by the Court,
      who had little regard for them before the declaration of M. de Turenne,
      thought that the more the Court was embarrassed the better, and therefore
      incited the Parliament and people to clamour, that the Cardinal might see
      that things did not altogether depend upon the conference at Ruel. I,
      likewise, contributed what lay in my power to moderate the precipitation
      of the First President and President de Mesmes towards anything that
      looked like an agreement.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 8th of March the Prince de Conti told the Parliament that M. de
      Turenne offered them his services and person against Cardinal Mazarin, the
      enemy of the State. I said that I was informed a declaration had been
      issued the night before at Saint Germain against M. de Turenne, as guilty
      of high treason. The Parliament unanimously passed a decree to annul it,
      to authorise his taking arms, to enjoin all the King's subjects to give
      him free passage and support, and to raise the necessary funds for the
      payment of his troops, lest the 800,000 livres sent from Court to General
      d'Erlach should corrupt the officers and soldiers. A severe edict was
      issued against Courcelles, Lavardin, and Amilly, who had levied troops for
      the King in the province of Maine, and the commonalty were permitted to
      meet at the sound of the alarm-bell and to fall foul of all those who had
      held assemblies without order of Parliament.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 9th a decree was passed to suspend the conference till all the
      promises made by the Court to allow the entry of provisions were
      punctually executed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conti informed the House the same day that he was desired by
      M. de Longueville to assure them that he would set out from Rouen on the
      15th with 7,000 foot and 3,000 horse, and march directly to Saint Germain;
      the Parliament was incredibly overjoyed, and desired the Prince de Conti
      to press him to hasten his march as much as possible.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 10th the member for Normandy told the House that the Parliament of
      Rennes only stayed for the Duc de la Tremouille to join against the common
      enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 11th an envoy from M. de la Tremouille offered the Parliament, in
      his master's name, 8,000 foot and 2,000 horse, who were in a condition to
      march in two days, provided the House would permit his master to seize on
      all the public money at Poitiers, Niort, and other places whereof he was
      already master. The Parliament thanked him, passed a decree with full
      powers accordingly, and desired him to hasten his levies with all
      expedition.
    </p>
    <p>
      Posterity will hardly believe that, notwithstanding all this heat in the
      party, which one would have thought could not have immediately evaporated,
      a peace was made and signed the same day; but of this more by and by.
    </p>
    <p>
      While the Court, as has been before hinted, was tampering with the
      generals, Madame de Montbazon promised M. de Beaufort's support to the
      Queen; but her Majesty understood that it was not to be done if I were not
      at the market to approve of the sale. La Riviere despised M. d'Elbeuf no
      longer. M. de Bouillon, since his brother's declaration, seemed more
      inclined than before to come to an arrangement with the Court, but his
      pretentions ran very high, and both the brothers were in such a situation
      that a little assistance would not suffice, and as to the offers made to
      myself by Madame de Lesdiguieres, I returned such an answer as convinced
      the Court that I was not so easily to be moved.
    </p>
    <p>
      In short, Cardinal Mazarin found all the avenues to a negotiation either
      shut or impassable. This despair of success in the Court was eventually
      more to the advantage of the Court than the most refined politics, for it
      did not hinder them from negotiating, the Cardinal's natural temper not
      permitting him to do otherwise; but, however, he could not trust to the
      carrying out of negotiations, and therefore beguiled our generals with
      fair promises, while he remitted 800,000 livres to buy off the army of M.
      de Turenne, and obliged the deputies at Ruel to sign a peace against the
      orders of the Parliament that sent them. The President de Mesmes assured
      me several times since that this peace was purely the result of a
      conversation he had with the Cardinal on the 8th of March at night, when
      his Eminence told him he saw plainly that M. de Bouillon would not treat
      till he had the Spaniards and M. de Turenne at the gates of Paris; that
      is, till he saw himself in the position to seize one-half of the kingdom.
      The President made him this answer:
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is no hope of any security but in making the Coadjutor a cardinal."
    </p>
    <p>
      To which Mazarin answered: "He is worse than the other, who at least
      seemed once inclined to treat, but he is still for a general peace, or for
      none at all."
    </p>
    <p>
      President de Mesmes replied: "If things are come to this pass we must be
      the victims to save the State from perishing&mdash;we must sign the peace.
      For after what the Parliament has done to-day there is no remedy, and
      perhaps tomorrow we shall be recalled; if we are disowned in what we do we
      are ruined, the gates of Paris will be shut against us, and we shall be
      prosecuted and treated as prevaricators and traitors. It is our business
      and concern to procure such conditions as will give us good ground to
      justify our proceedings, and if the terms are but reasonable, we know how
      to improve them against the factions; but make them as you please
      yourself, I will sign them all, and will go this moment to acquaint the
      First President that this is the only expedient to save the State. If it
      takes effect we have peace, if we are disowned by the Parliament we still
      weaken the faction, and the danger will fall upon none but ourselves." He
      added that with much difficulty he had persuaded the First President.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><a name="p242j" id="p242j"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="p242j.jpg (48K)" src="images/p242j.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The peace was signed by Cardinal Mazarin, as well as by the other
      deputies, on the part of the King. The substance of the articles was that
      Parliament should just go to Saint Germain to proclaim the peace, and then
      return to Paris, but hold no assembly that year; that all their public
      decrees since the 6th of January should be made void, as likewise all
      ordinances of Council, declarations and 'lettres de cachet'; that as soon
      as the King had withdrawn his troops from Paris, all the forces raised for
      the defence of the city should be disbanded, and the inhabitants lay down
      their arms and not take them up again without the King's order; that the
      Archduke's deputy should be dismissed without an answer, that there should
      be a general amnesty, and that the King should also give a general
      discharge for all the public money made use of, as also for the movables
      sold and for all the arms and ammunition taken out of the arsenal and
      elsewhere.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. and Madame de Bouillon were extremely surprised when they heard that
      the peace was signed. I did not expect the Parliament would make it so
      soon, but I said frequently that it would be a very shameful one if we
      should let them alone to make it. M. de Bouillon owned that I had foretold
      it often enough. "I confess," said he, "that we are entirely to blame,"
      which expression made me respect him more than ever, for I think it a
      greater virtue for a man to confess a fault than not to commit one. The
      Prince de Conti, MM. d'Elbeuf, de Beaufort, and de La Mothe were very much
      surprised, too, at the signing of the peace, especially because their
      agent at Saint Germain had assured them that the Court was fully persuaded
      that the Parliament was but a cipher, and that the generals were the men
      with whom they must negotiate. I confess that Cardinal Mazarin acted a
      very wily part in this juncture, and he is the more to be commended
      because he was obliged to defend himself, not only against the monstrous
      impertinences of La Riviere, but against the violent passion of the Prince
      de Conde.
    </p>
    <p>
      We held a council at the Duc de Bouillon's, where I persuaded them that as
      our deputies were recalled by an order despatched from Parliament before
      the treaty was signed, it was therefore void, and that we ought to take no
      notice of it, the rather because it had not been communicated to
      Parliament in form; and, finally, that the deputies should be charged to
      insist on a general treaty of peace and on the expulsion of Mazarin; and,
      if they did not succeed, to return forthwith to their seats in Parliament.
      But I added that if the deputies should have time to return and make their
      report, we should be under the necessity of protesting, which would so
      incense the people against them that we should not be able to keep them
      from butchering the First President and the President de Mesmes, so that
      we should be reputed the authors of the tragedy, and, though formidable
      one day, should be every whit as odious the next. I concluded with
      offering to sacrifice my coadjutorship of Paris to the anger of the Queen
      and the hatred of the Cardinal, and that very cheerfully, if they would
      but come into my measures.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, after having opposed my reasons, concluded thus: "I know
      that my brother's declaration and my urging the necessity of his advancing
      with the army before we come to a positive resolution may give ground to a
      belief that I have great views for our family. I do not deny but that I
      hope for some advantages, and am persuaded it is lawful for me to do so,
      but I will be content to forfeit my reputation if I ever agree with the
      Court till you all say you are satisfied; and if I do not keep my word I
      desire the Coadjutor to disgrace me."
    </p>
    <p>
      After all I thought it best to submit to the Prince de Conti and the voice
      of the majority, who resolved very wisely not to explain themselves in
      detail next morning in Parliament, but that the Prince de Conti should
      only say, in general, that it being the common report that the peace was
      signed at Ruel, he was resolved to send deputies thither to take care of
      his and the other generals' interests.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince agreed at once with our decision. Meantime the people rose at
      the report I had spread concerning Mazarin's signing the treaty, which,
      though we all considered it a necessary stratagem, I now repented of. This
      shows that a civil war is one of those complicated diseases wherein the
      remedy you prescribe for obviating one dangerous symptom sometimes
      inflames three or four others.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 13th the deputies of Ruel entering the Parliament House, which was
      in great tumult, M. d'Elbeuf, contrary to the resolution taken at M. de
      Bouillon's, asked the deputies whether they had taken care of the interest
      of the generals in the treaty.
    </p>
    <p>
      The First President was going to make his report, but was almost stunned
      with the clamour of the whole company, crying, "There is no peace! there
      is no peace!" that the deputies had scandalously deserted the generals and
      all others whom the Parliament had joined by the decree of union, and,
      besides, that they had concluded a peace after the revocation of the
      powers given them to treat. The Prince de Conti said very calmly that he
      wondered they had concluded a treaty without the generals; to which the
      First President answered that the generals had always protested that they
      had no separate interests from those of the Parliament, and it was their
      own fault that they had not sent their deputies. M. de Bouillon said that,
      since Cardinal Mazarin was to continue Prime Minister, he desired that
      Parliament should obtain a passport for him to retire out of the kingdom.
      The First President replied that his interest had been taken care of, and
      that he would have satisfaction for Sedan. But M. de Bouillon told him
      that he might as well have said nothing, and that he would never separate
      from the other generals. The clamour redoubled with such fury that
      President de Mesmes trembled like an aspen leaf. M. de Beaufort, laying
      his hand upon his sword, said, "Gentlemen, this shall never be drawn for
      Mazarin."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Presidents de Coigneux and de Bellievre proposed that the deputies
      might be sent back to treat about the interests of the generals and to
      reform the articles which the Parliament did not like; but they were soon
      silenced by a sudden noise in the Great Hall, and the usher came in
      trembling and said that the people called for M. de Beaufort. He went out
      immediately, and quieted them for the time, but no sooner had he got
      inside the House than the disturbance began afresh, and an infinite number
      of people, armed with daggers, called out for the original treaty, that
      they might have Mazarin's sign-manual burnt by the hangman, adding that if
      the deputies had signed the peace of their own accord they ought to be
      hanged, and if against their will they ought to be disowned. They were
      told that the sign-manual of the Cardinal could not be burnt without
      burning at the same time that of the Duc d'Orleans, but that the deputies
      were to be sent back again to get the articles amended. The people still
      cried out, "No peace! no Mazarin! You must go! We will have our good King
      fetched from Saint Germain, and all Mazarins thrown into the river!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The people were ready to break open the great door of the House, yet the
      First President was so far from being terrified that, when he was advised
      to pass through the registry into his own house that he might not be seen,
      he replied, "If I was sure to perish I would never be guilty of such
      cowardice, which would only serve to make the mob more insolent, who would
      be ready to come to my house if they thought I was afraid of them here."
      And when I begged him not to expose himself till I had pacified the people
      he passed it off with a joke, by which I found he took me for the author
      of the disturbance, though very unjustly. However, I did not resent it,
      but went into the Great Hall, and, mounting the solicitors' bench, waved
      my hands to the people, who thereupon cried, "Silence!" I said all I could
      think of to make them easy. They asked if I would promise that the Peace
      of Ruel should not be kept. I answered, "Yes, provided the people will be
      quiet, for otherwise their best friends will be obliged to take other
      methods to prevent such disturbances." I acted in a quarter of an hour
      above thirty different parts. I threatened, I commanded, I entreated them;
      and, finding I was sure of a calm, at least for a moment, I returned to
      the House, and, embracing the First President, placed him before me; M. de
      Beaufort did the same with President de Mesmes, and thus we went out with
      the Parliament, all in a body, the officers of the House marching in
      front. The people made a great noise, and we heard some crying, "A
      republic!" but no injury was offered to us, only M. de Bouillon received a
      blow in his face from a ragamuffin, who took him for Cardinal Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 16th the deputies were sent again to Ruel by the Parliament to
      amend some of the articles, particularly those for adjourning the
      Parliament to Saint Germain and prohibiting their future assemblies; with
      an order to take care of the interest of the generals and of the
      companies, joined together by the decree of union.
    </p>
    <p>
      The late disturbances obliged the Parliament to post the city
      trained-bands at their gates, who were even more enraged against the
      "Mazarin peace," as they called it, than the mob, and who were far less
      dreaded, because they consisted of citizens who were not for plunder; yet
      this select militia was ten times on the point of insulting the
      Parliament, and did actually insult the members of the Council and
      Presidents, threatening to throw the President de Thore into the river;
      and when the First President and his friends saw that they were afraid of
      putting their threats into execution, they took an advantage of us, and
      had the boldness even to reproach the generals, as if the troops had not
      done their duty; though if the generals had but spoken loud enough to be
      heard by the people, they would not have been able to hinder them from
      tearing the members to pieces.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc de Bouillon came to the Hotel de Ville and made a speech there to
      Prince de Conti and the other generals, in substance as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I could never have believed what I now see of this Parliament. On the
      13th they would not hear the Peace of Ruel mentioned, but on the 15th they
      approved of it, some few articles excepted; on the 16th they despatched
      the same deputies who had concluded a peace against their orders with full
      and unlimited powers, and, not content with all this, they load us with
      reproaches because we complain that they have treated for a peace without
      us, and have abandoned M. de Longueville and M. de Turenne; and yet it is
      owing only to us that the people do not massacre them. We must save their
      lives at the hazard of our own, and I own that it is wisdom so to do; but
      we shall all of us certainly perish with the Parliament if we let them go
      on at this rate." Then, addressing himself to the Prince de Conti, he
      said, "I am for closing with the Coadjutor's late advice at my house, and
      if your Highness does not put it into execution before two days are at an
      end, we shall have a peace less secure and more scandalous than the
      former."
    </p>
    <p>
      The company became unanimously of his opinion, and resolved to meet next
      day at M. de Bouillon's to consider how to bring the affair into
      Parliament. In the meantime, Don Gabriel de Toledo arrived with the
      Archduke's ratification of the treaty signed by the generals, and with a
      present from his master of 10,000 pistoles; but I was resolved to let the
      Spaniards see that I had not the intention of taking their money, though
      at his request Madame de Bouillon did all she could to persuade me.
      Accordingly, I declined it with all possible respect; nevertheless, this
      denial cost me dear afterwards, because I contracted a habit of refusing
      presents at other times when it would have been good policy to have
      accepted them, even if I had thrown them into the river. It is sometimes
      very dangerous to refuse presents from one's superiors.
    </p>
    <p>
      While we were in conference at M. de Bouillon's the sad news was brought
      to us that M. de Turenne's forces, all except two or three regiments, had
      been bribed with money from Court to abandon him, and, finding himself
      likely to be arrested, he had retired to the house of his friend and
      kinswoman, the Landgravine of Hesse. M. de Bouillon, was, as it were,
      thunderstruck; his lady burst out into tears, saying, "We are all undone,"
      and I was almost as much cast down as they were, because it overturned our
      last scheme.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon was now for pushing matters to extremes, but I convinced
      him that there was nothing more dangerous.
    </p>
    <p>
      Don Gabriel de Toledo, who was ordered to be very frank with me, was very
      reserved when he saw how I was mortified about the news of M. de Turenne,
      and caballed with the generals in such a manner as made me very uneasy.
      Upon this sudden turn of affairs I made these remarks: That every company
      has so much in it of the unstable temper of the vulgar that all depends
      upon joining issue with opportunity; and that the best proposals prove
      often fading flowers, which are fragrant to-day and offensive to-morrow.
    </p>
    <p>
      I could not sleep that night for thinking about our circumstances. I saw
      that the Parliament was less inclined than ever to engage in a war, by
      reason of the desertion of the army of M. de Turenne; I saw the deputies
      at Ruel emboldened by the success of their prevarication; I saw the people
      of Paris as ready to admit the Archduke as ever they could be to receive
      the Duc d'Orleans; I saw that in a week's time this Prince, with beads in
      his hand, and Fuensaldagne with his money, would have greater power than
      ourselves; that M. de Bouillon was relapsing into his former proposal of
      using extremities, and that the other generals would be precipitated into
      the same violent measures by the scornful behaviour of the Court, who now
      despised all because they were sure of the Parliament. I saw that all
      these circumstances paved the way for a popular sedition to massacre the
      Parliament and put the Spaniards in possession of the Louvre, which might
      overturn the State.
    </p>
    <p>
      These gloomy thoughts I resolved to communicate to my father, who had for
      the last twenty years retired to the Oratory, and who would never hear of
      my State intrigues. My father told me of some advantageous offers made to
      me indirectly by the Court, but advised me not to trust to them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Next day, M. de Bouillon was for shutting the gates against the deputies
      of Ruel, for expelling the Parliament, for making ourselves masters of the
      Hotel de Ville, and for bringing the Spanish army without delay into our
      suburbs. As for M. de Beaufort, Don Gabriel de Toledo told me that he
      offered Madame de Montbazon 20,000 crowns down and 6,000 crowns a year if
      she could persuade him into the Archduke's measures. He did not forget the
      other generals. M. d'Elbeuf was gained at an easy rate, and Marechal de La
      Mothe was buoyed up with the hopes of being accommodated with the Duchy of
      Cardonne. I soon saw the Catholicon of Spain (Spanish gold) was the chief
      ingredient. Everybody saw that our only remedy was to make ourselves
      masters of the Hotel de Ville by means of the people, but I opposed it
      with arguments too tedious to mention. M. de Bouillon was for engaging
      entirely with Spain, but I convinced Marechal de La Mothe and M. de
      Beaufort that such measures would in a fortnight reduce them to a
      precarious dependence on the counsels of Spain.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being pressed to give my opinion in brief, I delivered it thus: "We cannot
      hinder the peace without ruining the Parliament by the help of the people,
      and we cannot maintain the war by the means of the same people without a
      dependence upon Spain. We cannot have any peace with Saint Germain but by
      consenting to continue Mazarin in the Ministry."
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, with the head of an ox, and the penetration of an eagle,
      interrupted me thus: "I take it, monsieur," said he, "you are for
      suffering the peace to come to a conclusion, but not for appearing in it."
    </p>
    <p>
      I replied that I was willing to oppose it, but that it should be only with
      my own voice and the voices of those who were ready to run the same hazard
      with me.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I understand you again," replied M. de Bouillon; "a very fine thought
      indeed, suitable to yourself and to M. de Beaufort, but to nobody else."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If it suited us only," said I, "before I would propose it I would cut out
      my tongue. The part we act would suit you as well as either of us, because
      you may accommodate matters when you think it for your interest. For my
      part, I am fully persuaded that they who insist upon the exclusion of
      Mazarin as a condition of the intended arrangement will continue masters
      of the affections of the people long enough to take their advantage of an
      opportunity which fortune never fails to furnish in cloudy and unsettled
      times. Pray, monsieur, considering your reputation and capacity, who can
      pretend to act this part with more dignity, than yourself? M. de Beaufort
      and I are already the favourites of the people, and if you declare for the
      exclusion of the Cardinal, you will be tomorrow as popular as either of
      us, and we shall be looked upon as the only centre of their hopes. All the
      blunders of the ministers will turn to our advantage, the Spaniards will
      caress us, and the Cardinal, considering how fond he is of a treaty, will
      be under the necessity to court us. I own this scheme may be attended with
      inconveniences, but, on the other side of the question, we are sure of
      certain ruin if we have a peace and an enraged minister at the helm, who
      cannot hope for reestablishment but upon our destruction. Therefore, I
      cannot but think the expedient is as proper for you to engage in as for
      me, but if, for argument's sake, it were not, I am sure it is for your
      interest that I should embrace it, for you will by that means have more
      time to make your own terms with the Court before the peace is concluded,
      and after the peace Mazarin will in such case be obliged to have more
      regard for all those gentlemen whose reunion with me it will be to his
      interest to prevent."
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon was so convinced of the justice of my reasoning that he
      told me, when we were by ourselves, that he had, as well as myself,
      thought of my expedient as soon as he received the news of the army
      deserting M. de Turenne, that he could still improve it, as the Spaniards
      would not fail to relish it, and that he had been on the point several
      times one day to confer about it with me; but that his wife had conjured
      him with prayers and tears to speak no more of the matter, but to come to
      terms with the Court, or else to engage himself with the Spaniards. "I
      know," said he, "you are not for the second arrangement; pray lend me your
      good offices to compass the first." I assured him that all my best offices
      and interests were entirely at his service to facilitate his agreement
      with the Court, and that he might freely make use of my name and
      reputation for that purpose.
    </p>
    <p>
      In fine, we agreed on every point. M. de Bouillon undertook to make the
      proposition palatable to the Spaniards, provided we would promise never to
      let them know that it was concerted among ourselves beforehand, and we
      never questioned but that we could persuade M. de Longueville to accept
      it, for men of irresolution are apt to catch at all overtures which lead
      them two ways, and consequently press them to no choice.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had almost forgotten to tell you what M. de Bouillon said to me in
      private as we were going from the conference. "I am sure," said he, "that
      you will not blame me for not exposing a wife whom I dearly love and eight
      children whom she loves more than herself to the hazards which you run,
      and which I could run with you were I a single man."
    </p>
    <p>
      I was very much affected by the tender sentiments of M. de Bouillon and
      the confidence he placed in me, and assured him I was so far from blaming
      him that I esteemed him the more, and that his tenderness for his lady,
      which he was pleased to call his weakness, was indeed what politics
      condemned but ethics highly justified, because it betokened an honest
      heart, which is much superior both to interest and politics. M. de
      Bouillon communicated the proposal both to the Spanish envoys and to the
      generals, who were easily persuaded to relish it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus he made, as it were, a golden bridge for the Spaniards to withdraw
      their troops with decency. I told him as soon as they were gone that he
      was an excellent man to persuade people that a "quartan ague was good for
      them."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliamentary deputies, repairing to Saint Germain on the 17th of
      March, 1649, first took care to settle the interests of the generals, upon
      which every officer of the army thought he had a right to exhibit his
      pretensions. M. de Vendome sent his son a formal curse if he did not
      procure for him at least the post of Superintendent of the Seas, which was
      created first in favour of Cardinal de Richelieu in place of that of High
      Admiral, but Louis XIV. abolished it, and restored that of High Admiral.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon this we held a conference, the result of which was that on the 20th
      the Prince de Conti told the Parliament that himself and the other
      generals entered their claims solely for the purpose of providing for
      their safety in case Mazarin should continue in the Ministry, and that he
      protested, both for himself and for all the gentlemen engaged in the same
      party, that they would immediately renounce all pretensions whatsoever
      upon the exclusion of Cardinal Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      We also prevailed on the Prince de Conti, though almost against his will,
      to move the Parliament to direct their deputies to join with the Comte de
      Maure for the expulsion of Cardinal Mazarin. I had almost lost all my
      credit with the people, because I hindered them on the 13th of March from
      massacring the Parliament, and because on the 23d and 24th I opposed the
      public sale of the Cardinal's library. But I reestablished my reputation
      in the Great Hall among the crowd, in the opinion of the firebrands of
      Parliament, by haranguing against the Comte de Grancei, who had the
      insolence to pillage the house of M. Coulon; by insisting on the 24th that
      the Prince d'Harcourt should be allowed to seize all the public money in
      the province of Picardy; by insisting on the 25th against a truce which it
      would have been ridiculous to refuse during a conference; and by opposing
      on the 30th what was transacted there, though at the same time I knew that
      peace was made.
    </p>
    <p>
      I now return to the conference at Saint Germain.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court declared they would never consent to the removal of the
      Cardinal; and that as to the pretensions of the generals, which were
      either to justice or favour, those of justice should be confirmed, and
      those of favour left to his Majesty's disposal to reward merit. They
      declared their willingness to accept the Archduke's proposal for a general
      peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      An amnesty was granted in the most ample manner, comprehending expressly
      the Prince de Conti, MM. de Longueville, de Beaufort, d'Harcourt, de
      Rieug, de Lillebonne, de Bouillon, de Turenne, de Brissac, de Duras, de
      Matignon, de Beuron, de Noirmoutier, de Sdvigny, de Tremouille, de La
      Rochefoucault, de Retz, d'Estissac, de Montresor, de Matta, de Saint
      Germain, d'Apchon, de Sauvebeuf, de Saint Ibal, de Lauretat, de Laigues,
      de Chavagnac, de Chaumont, de Caumesnil, de Cugnac, de Creci, d'Allici,
      and de Barriere; but I was left out, which contributed to preserve my
      reputation with the public more than you would expect from such a trifle.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 31st the deputies, being returned, made their report to the
      Parliament, who on the 1st of April verified the declaration of peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I went to the House I found the streets crowded with people crying "No
      peace! no Mazarin!" but I dispersed them by saying that it was one of
      Mazarin's stratagems to separate the people from the Parliament, who
      without doubt had reasons for what they had done; that they should be
      cautious of falling into the snare; that they had no cause to fear
      Mazarin; and that they might depend on it that I would never agree with
      him. When I reached the House I found the guards as excited as the people,
      and bent on murdering every one they knew to be of Mazarin's party; but I
      pacified them as I had done the others. The First President, seeing me
      coming in, said that "I had been consecrating oil mixed, undoubtedly, with
      saltpetre." I heard the words, but made as if I did not, for had I taken
      them up, and had the people known it in the Great Hall, it would not have
      been in my power to have saved the life of one single member.
    </p>
    <p>
      Soon after the peace the Prince de Conti, Madame de Longueville and M. de
      Bouillon went to Saint Germain to the Court, which had by some means or
      other gained M. d'Elbeuf. But MM. de Brissac, de Retz, de Vitri, de
      Fiesque, de Fontrailles, de Montresor, de Noirmoutier, de Matta, de la
      Boulaie, de Caumesnil, de Moreul, de Laigues, and d'Annery remained in a
      body with us, which was not contemptible, considering the people were on
      our side; but the Cardinal despised us to that degree that when MM. de
      Beaufort, de Brissac, de La Mothe, and myself desired one of our friends
      to assure the Queen of our most humble obedience, she answered that she
      should not regard our assurances till we had paid our devoirs to the
      Cardinal.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Chevreuse having come from Brussels without the Queen's leave,
      her Majesty sent her orders to quit Paris in twenty-four hours upon which
      I went to her house and found the lovely creature at her toilet bathed in
      tears. My heart yearned towards her, but I bid her not obey till I had the
      honour of seeing her again. I consulted with M. de Beaufort to get the
      order revoked, upon which he said, "I see you are against her going; she
      shall stay. She has very fine eyes!"
    </p>
    <p>
      I returned to the Palace de Chevreuse, where I was made very welcome, and
      found the lovely Mademoiselle de Chevreuse. I got a very intimate
      acquaintance with Madame de Rhodes, natural daughter of Cardinal de Guise,
      who was her great confidant. I entirely demolished the good opinion she
      had of the Duke of Brunswick-Zell, with whom she had almost struck a
      bargain. De Laigues hindered me at first, but the forwardness of the
      daughter and the good-nature of the mother soon removed all obstacles. I
      saw her every day at her own house and very often at Madame de Rhodes's,
      who allowed us all the liberty we could wish for, and we did not fail to
      make good use of our time. I did love her, or rather I thought I loved
      her, for I still had to do with Madame de Pommereux.
    </p>
    <p>
      Fronde (sling) being the name given to the faction, I will give you the
      etymology of it, which I omitted in the first book.
    </p>
    <p>
      When Parliament met upon State affairs, the Duc d'Orleans and the Prince
      de Conde came very frequently, and tempered the heat of the contending
      parties; but the coolness was not lasting, for every other day their fury
      returned upon them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bachoumont once said, in jest, that the Parliament acted like the
      schoolboys in the Paris ditches, who fling stones, and run away when they
      see the constable, but meet again as soon as he turns his back. This was
      thought a very pretty comparison. It came to be a subject for ballads,
      and, upon the peace between the King and Parliament, it was revived and
      applied to those who were not agreed with the Court; and we studied to
      give it all possible currency, because we observed that it excited the
      wrath of the people. We therefore resolved that night to wear hatbands
      made in the form of a sling, and had a great number of them made ready to
      be distributed among a parcel of rough fellows, and we wore them ourselves
      last of all, for it would have looked much like affectation and have
      spoilt all had we been the first in the mode.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is inexpressible what influence this trifle had upon the people; their
      bread, hats, gloves, handkerchiefs, fans, ornaments were all 'a la mode de
      la Fronde', and we ourselves were more in the fashion by this trifle than
      in reality. And the truth is we had need of all our shifts to support us
      against the whole royal family. For although I had spoken to the Prince de
      Conde at Madame de Longueville's, I could not suppose myself thoroughly
      reconciled. He treated me, indeed, civilly, but with an air of coldness,
      and I know that he was fully persuaded that I had complained of his breach
      of a promise which he made by me to some members of Parliament; but, as I
      had complained to nobody upon this head, I began to suspect that some
      persona studied to set us at variance. I imagined it came from the Prince
      de Conti, who was naturally very malicious, and hated me, he knew not why.
      Madame de Longueville loved me no better. I always suspected Madame de
      Montbazon, who had not nearly so much influence over M. de Beaufort as I
      had, yet was very artful in robbing him of all his secrets. She did not
      love me either, because I deprived her of what might have made her a most
      considerable person at Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      Count Fuensaldagne was not obliged to help me if he could. He was not
      pleased with the conduct of M. de Bouillon, who, in truth, had neglected
      the decisive point for a general peace, and he was much less satisfied
      with his own ministers, whom he used to call his blind moles; but he was
      pleased with me for insisting always on the peace between the two Crowns,
      without any view to a separate one. He therefore sent me Don Antonio
      Pimentel, to offer me anything that was in the power of the King his
      master, and to tell me that, as I could not but want assistance,
      considering how I stood with the Ministry, 100,000 crowns was at my
      service, which was accordingly brought me in bills of exchange. He added
      that he did not desire any engagement from me for it, nor did the King his
      master propose any other advantage than the pleasure of protecting me. But
      I thought fit to refuse the money, for the present, telling Don Antonio
      that I should think myself unworthy, of the protection of his Catholic
      Majesty if I took any, gratuity, while I was in no capacity, of serving
      him; that I was born a Frenchman, and, by virtue of my post, more
      particularly attached than another to the metropolis of the kingdom; that
      it was my misfortune to be embroiled with the Prime Minister of my King,
      but that my resentment should never carry me to solicit assistance among
      his enemies till I was forced to do so for self-preservation; that Divine
      Providence had cast my lot in Paris, where God, who knew the purity of my
      intentions, would enable me in all probability to maintain myself by my
      own interest. But in case I wanted protection I was fully persuaded I
      could nowhere find any so powerful and glorious as that of his Catholic
      Majesty, to whom I would always think it an honour to have recourse.
      Fuensaldagne was satisfied with my answer, and sent back Don Antonio
      Pimentel with a letter from the Archduke, assuring me that upon a line
      from my hand he would march with all the forces of the King his master to
      my assistance.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="book3" id="book3"></a>
    </p>
    <h1>
      BOOK III.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      MADAME:&mdash;Cardinal Mazarin thought of nothing else now but how to rid
      himself of the obligations he lay under to the Prince de Conde, who had
      actually saved him from the gallows. And his principal view was an
      alliance with the House of Vendome, who had on some occasions opposed the
      interest of the family of Conde.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Paris the people libelled not only the Cardinal, but the Queen. Indeed
      it was not our interest to discourage libels and ballads against the
      Cardinal, but it concerned us to suppress such as were levelled against
      the Queen and Government. It is not to be imagined what uneasiness the
      wrath of the people gave us upon that head. Two criminals, one of whom was
      a printer, being condemned to be hanged for publishing some things fit to
      be burnt and for libelling the Queen, cried out, when they were upon the
      scaffold, that they were to be put to death for publishing verses against
      Mazarin, upon which the people rescued them from justice.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the other hand, some gay young gentlemen of the Court, who were in
      Mazarin's interest, had a mind to make his name familiar to the Parisians,
      and for that end made a famous display in the public walks of the
      Tuileries, where they had grand suppers, with music, and drank the
      Cardinal's health publicly. We took little notice of this, till they
      boasted at Saint Germain that the Frondeurs were glad to give them the
      wall. And then we thought it high time to correct them, lest the common
      people should think they did it by authority. For this end M. de Beaufort
      and a hundred other gentlemen went one night to the house where they
      supped, overturned the table, and broke the musicians' violins over their
      heads.
    </p>
    <p>
      Being informed that the Prince de Conde intended to oblige the King to
      return to Paris, I was resolved to have all the merit of an action which
      would be so acceptable to the citizens. I therefore resolved to go to the
      Court at Compiegne, which my friends very much opposed, for fear of the
      danger to which I might be exposed, but I told them that what is
      absolutely necessary is not dangerous.
    </p>
    <p>
      I went accordingly, and as I was going up-stairs to the Queen's
      apartments, a man, whom I never saw before or since, put a note into my
      hand with these words: "If you enter the King's domicile, you are a dead
      man." But I was in already, and it was too late to go back. Being past the
      guard-chamber, I thought myself secure. I told the Queen that I was come
      to assure her Majesty of my most humble obedience, and of the disposition
      of the Church of Paris to perform all the services it owed to their
      Majesties. The Queen seemed highly pleased, and was very kind to me; but
      when we mentioned the Cardinal, though she urged me to it, I excused
      myself from going to see him, assuring her Majesty that such a visit would
      put it out of my power to do her service. It was impossible for her to
      contain herself any longer; she blushed, and it was with much restraint
      that she forbore using harsh language, as she herself confessed
      afterwards.
    </p>
    <p>
      Servien said one day that there was a design to assassinate me at his
      table by the Abbe Fouquet; and M. de Vendome, who had just come from his
      table, pressed me to be gone, saying that there were wicked designs
      hatching against me.
    </p>
    <p>
      I returned to Paris, having accomplished everything I wanted, for I had
      removed the suspicion of the Court that the Frondeurs were against the
      King's return. I threw upon the Cardinal all the odium attending his
      Majesty's delay. I braved Mazarin, as it were, upon his throne, and
      secured to myself the chief honour of the King's return.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court was received at Paris as kings always were and ever will be,
      namely, with acclamations, which only please such as like to be flattered.
      A group of old women were posted at the entrance of the suburbs to cry
      out, "God save his Eminence!" who sat in the King's coach and thought
      himself Lord of Paris; but at the end of three or four days he found
      himself much mistaken. Ballads and libels still flew about. The Frondeurs
      appeared bolder than ever. M. de Beaufort and I rode sometimes alone, with
      one lackey only behind our coach, and at other times we went with a
      retinue of fifty men in livery and a hundred gentlemen. We diversified the
      scene as we thought it would be most acceptable to the spectators. The
      Court party, who blamed us from morning to night, nevertheless imitated us
      in their way. Everybody took an advantage of the Ministry from our
      continual pelting of his Eminence. The Prince, who always made too much or
      too little of the Cardinal, continued to treat him with contempt; and,
      being disgusted at being refused the post of Superintendent of the Seas,
      the Cardinal endeavoured to soothe him with the vain hopes of other
      advantages.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince, being one day at Court, and seeing the Cardinal give himself
      extraordinary airs, said, as he was going out of the Queen's cabinet,
      "Adieu, Mars." This was told all over the city in a quarter of an hour. I
      and Noirmoutier went by appointment to his house at four o'clock in the
      morning, when he seemed to be greatly troubled. He said that he could not
      determine to begin a civil war, which, though the only means to separate
      the Queen from the Cardinal, to whom she was so strongly attached, yet it
      was both against his conscience and honour. He added that he should never
      forget his obligations to us, and that if he should come to any terms with
      the Court, he would, if we thought proper, settle our affairs also, and
      that if we had not a mind to be reconciled to the Court, he would, in case
      it did attack us, publicly undertake our protection. We answered that we
      had no other design in our proposals than the honour of being his humble
      servants, and that we should be very sorry if he had retarded his
      reconciliation with the Queen upon our account, praying that we might be
      permitted to continue in the same disposition towards the Cardinal as we
      were then, which we declared should not hinder us from paying all the
      respect and duty which we professed for his Highness.
    </p>
    <p>
      I must not forget to acquaint you that Madame de Guemenee, who ran away
      from Paris in a fright the moment it was besieged, no sooner heard that I
      had paid a visit to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse than she returned to town in
      a rage. I was in such a passion with her for having cowardly deserted me
      that I took her by the throat, and she was so enraged at my familiarity
      with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse that she threw a candlestick at my head,
      but in a quarter of an hour we were very good friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde was no sooner reconciled with the Court than he was
      publicly reproached in the city for breaking his word with the Frondeurs;
      but I convinced him that he could not think such treatment strange in a
      city so justly exasperated against Mazarin, and that, nevertheless, he
      might depend on my best services, for which he assured me of his constant
      friendship.
    </p>
    <p>
      Moissans, now Marechal d'Albret, who was at the head of the King's
      gendarmes, accustomed himself and others to threaten the chief minister,
      who augmented the public odium against himself by reestablishing Emeri, a
      man detested by all the kingdom. We were not a little alarmed at his
      reestablishment, because this man, who knew Paris better than the
      Cardinal, distributed money among the people to a very good purpose. This
      is a singular science, which is either very beneficial or hurtful in its
      consequences, according to the wisdom or folly of the distributor.
    </p>
    <p>
      These donations, laid out with discretion and secrecy, obliged us to yield
      ourselves more and more unto the bulk of the people, and, finding a fit
      opportunity for this performance, we took care not to let it slip, which,
      if they had been ruled by me, we should not have done so soon, for we were
      not yet forced to make use of such expedients. It is not safe in a faction
      where you are only upon the defensive to do what you are not pressed to
      do, but the uneasiness of the subalterns on such occasions is troublesome,
      because they believe that as soon as you seem to be inactive all is lost.
      I preached every day that the way was yet rough, and therefore must be
      made plain, and that patience in the present case was productive of
      greater effects than activity; but nobody comprehended the truth of what I
      said.
    </p>
    <p>
      An unlucky expression, dropped on this occasion by the Princesse de
      Guemenee, had an incredible influence upon the people. She called to mind
      a ballad formerly made upon the regiment of Brulon, which was said to
      consist of only two dragoons and four drummers, and, inasmuch as she hated
      the Fronde, she told me very pleasantly that our party, being reduced to
      fourteen, might be justly compared to that regiment of Brulon. Noirmoutier
      and Laigues were offended at this expression to that degree that they
      continually murmured because I neither settled affairs nor pushed them to
      the last extremity. Upon which I observed that heads of factions are no
      longer their masters when they are unable either to prevent or allay the
      murmurs of the people.
    </p>
    <p>
      The revenues of the Hotel de Ville, which are, as it were, the patrimony
      of the bourgeois, and which, if well managed, might be of special service
      to the King in securing to his interest an infinite number of those people
      who are always the most formidable in revolutions&mdash;this sacred fund,
      I say, suffered much by the licentiousness of the times, the ignorance of
      Mazarin, and the prevarication of the officers of the Hotel de Ville, who
      were his dependents, so that the poor annuitants met in great numbers at
      the Hotel de Ville; but as such assemblies without the Prince's authority
      are reckoned illegal, the Parliament passed a decree to suppress them.
      They were privately countenanced by M. de Beaufort and me, to whom they
      sent a solemn deputation, and they made choice of twelve syndics to be a
      check upon the 'prevot des marchands'.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 11th of December a pistol, as had been concerted beforehand, was
      fired into the coach of Joly, one of the syndics, which President Charton,
      another of the syndics, thinking was aimed at himself, the Marquis de la
      Boulaie ran as if possessed with a devil, while the Parliament was
      sitting, into the middle of the Great Hall, with fifteen or twenty
      worthless fellows crying out "To Arms!" He did the like in the streets,
      but in vain, and came to Broussel and me; but the former reprimanded him
      after his way, and I threatened to throw him out at the window, for I had
      reason to believe that he acted in concert with the Cardinal, though he
      pretended to be a Frondeur.
    </p>
    <p>
      This artifice of Servien united the Prince to the Cardinal, because he
      found himself obliged to defend himself against the Frondeurs, who, as he
      believed, sought to assassinate him. All those that were his own creatures
      thought they were not zealous enough for his service if they did not
      exaggerate the imminent danger he had escaped, and the Court parasites
      confounded the morning adventure with that at night; and upon this coarse
      canvas they daubed all that the basest flattery, blackest imposture, and
      the most ridiculous credulity was capable of imagining; and we were
      informed the next morning that it was the common rumour over all the city
      that we had formed a design of seizing the King's person and carrying him
      to the Hotel de Ville, and to assassinate the Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort and I agreed to go out and show ourselves to the people,
      whom we found in such a consternation that I believed the Court might then
      have attacked us with success. Madame de Montbazon advised us to take
      post-horses and ride off, saying that there was nothing more easy than to
      destroy us, because we had put ourselves into the hands of our sworn
      enemies. I said that we had better hazard our lives than our honour. To
      which she replied, "It is not that, but your nymphs, I believe, which keep
      you here" (meaning Mesdames de Chevreuse and Guemenee). "I expect," she
      said, "to be befriended for my own sake, and don't I deserve it? I cannot
      conceive how you can be amused by a wicked old hag and a girl, if
      possible, still more foolish. We are continually disputing about that
      silly wretch" (pointing to M. de Beaufort, who was playing chess); "let us
      take him with us and go to Peronne."
    </p>
    <p>
      You are not to wonder that she talked thus contemptibly of M. de Beaufort,
      whom she always taxed with impotency, for it is certain that his love was
      purely Platonic, as he never asked any favour of her, and seemed very
      uneasy with her for eating flesh on Fridays. She was so sweet upon me, and
      withal such a charming beauty, that, being naturally indisposed to let
      such opportunities slip, I was melted into tenderness for her,
      notwithstanding my suspicions of her, considering the then situation of
      affairs, and would have had her go with me into the cabinet, but she was
      determined first to go to Peronne, which put an end to our amours.
    </p>
    <p>
      Beaufort waited on the Prince and was well received, but I could not gain
      admittance.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 14th the Prince de Conde went to Parliament and demanded that a
      committee might be appointed to inquire into the attempt made on his life.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Frondeurs were not asleep in the meantime, yet most of our friends
      were dispirited, and all very weak.
    </p>
    <p>
      The cures of Paris were my most hearty friends; they laboured with
      incredible zeal among the people. And the cure of Saint Gervais sent me
      this message: "Do but rally again and get off the assassination, and in a
      week you will be stronger than your enemies."
    </p>
    <p>
      I was informed that the Queen had written to my uncle, the Archbishop of
      Paris, to be sure to go to the Parliament on the 23d, the day that
      Beaufort, Broussel, and I were to be impeached, because I had no right to
      sit in the House if he were present. I begged of him not to go, but my
      uncle being a man of little sense, and that much out of order, and being,
      moreover, fearful and ridiculously jealous of me, had promised the Queen
      to go; and all that we could get out of him was that he would defend me in
      Parliament better than I could defend myself. It is to be observed that
      though he chattered to us like a magpie in private, yet in public he was
      as mute as a fish. A surgeon who was in the Archbishop's service, going to
      visit him, commended him for his courage in resisting the importunities of
      his nephew, who, said he, had a mind to bury him alive, and encouraged him
      to rise with all haste and go to the Parliament House; but he was no
      sooner out of his bed than the surgeon asked him in a fright how he felt.
      "Very well," said my Lord. "But that is impossible," said the surgeon;
      "you look like death," and feeling his pulse, he told him he was in a high
      fever; upon which my Lord Archbishop went to bed again, and all the kings
      and queens in Christendom could not get him out for a fortnight.
    </p>
    <p>
      We went to the Parliament, and found there the Princes with nearly a
      thousand gentlemen and, I may say, the whole Court. I had few salutes in
      the Hall, because it was generally thought I was an undone man. When I had
      entered the Great Chamber I heard a hum like that at the end of a pleasing
      period in a sermon. When I had taken my place I said that, hearing we were
      taxed with a seditious conspiracy, we were come to offer our heads to the
      Parliament if guilty, and if innocent, to demand justice upon our
      accusers; and that though I knew not what right the Court had to call me
      to account, yet I would renounce all privileges to make my innocence
      apparent to a body for whom I always had the greatest attachment and
      veneration.
    </p>
    <p>
      Then the informations were read against what they called "the public
      conspiracy from which it had pleased Almighty God to deliver the State and
      the royal family," after which I made a speech, in substance as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do not believe, gentlemen, that in any of the past ages persons of our
      quality had ever received any personal summons grounded merely upon
      hearsay. Neither can I think that posterity will ever believe that this
      hearsay evidence was admitted from the mouths of the most infamous
      miscreants that ever got out of a gaol. Canto was condemned to the gallows
      at Pau, Pichon to the wheel at Mans, Sociande is a rogue upon record.
      Pray, gentlemen, judge of their evidence by their character and
      profession. But this is not all. They have the distinguishing character of
      being informers by authority. I am sorely grieved that the defence of our
      honour, which is enjoined us by the laws of God and man, should oblige me
      to expose to light, under the most innocent of Kings, such abominations as
      were detested in the most corrupt ages of antiquity and under the worst of
      tyrants. But I must tell you that Canto, Sociande, and Gorgibus are
      authorised to inform against us by a commission signed by that august name
      which should never be employed but for the preservation of the most sacred
      laws, and which Cardinal Mazarin, who knows no law but that of revenge,
      which he meditates against the defenders of the public liberty, has forced
      M. Tellier, Secretary of State, to countersign.
    </p>
    <p>
      "We demand justice, gentlemen, but we do not demand it of you till we have
      first most humbly implored this House to execute the strictest justice
      that the laws have provided against rebels, if it appears that we have
      been concerned directly or indirectly in raising this last disturbance. Is
      it possible, gentlemen, that a grandchild of Henri the Great, that a
      senator of M. Broussel's age and probity, and that the Coadjutor of Paris
      should be so much as suspected of being concerned in a sedition raised by
      a hot-brained fool, at the head of fifteen of the vilest of the mob? I am
      fully persuaded it would be scandalous for me to insist longer on this
      subject. This is all I know, gentlemen, of the modern conspiracy."
    </p>
    <p>
      The applause that came from the Court of Inquiry was deafening; many
      voices were heard exclaiming against spies and informers. Honest Doujat,
      who was one of the persons appointed by the Attorney-General Talon, his
      kinsman, to make the report, and who had acquainted me with the facts,
      acknowledged it publicly by pretending to make the thing appear less
      odious. He got up, therefore, as if he were in a passion, and spoke very
      artfully to this purpose:
    </p>
    <p>
      "These witnesses, monsieur, are not to accuse you, as you are pleased to
      say, but only to discover what passed in the meeting of the annuitants at
      the Hotel de Ville. If the King did not promise impunity to such as will
      give him information necessary for his service, and which sometimes cannot
      be come at without involving evidence in a crime, how should the King be
      informed at all? There is a great deal of difference between patents of
      this nature and commissions granted on purpose to accuse you."
    </p>
    <p>
      You might have seen fire in 'the face of every member. The First President
      called out "Order!" and said, "MM. de Beaufort, le Coadjuteur, and
      Broussel, you are accused, and you must withdraw."
    </p>
    <p>
      As Beaufort and I were leaving our seats, Broussel stopped us, saying,
      "Neither you, gentlemen, nor I are bound to depart till we are ordered to
      do so by the Court. The First President, whom all the world knows to be
      our adversary, should go out if we must."
    </p>
    <p>
      I added, "And M. le Prince," who thereupon said, with a scornful air:
    </p>
    <p>
      "What, I? Must I retire?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes, yes, monsieur," said I, "justice is no respecter of persons."
    </p>
    <p>
      The President de Mesmes said, "No, monseigneur, you must not go out unless
      the Court orders you. If the Coadjutor insists that your Highness retire,
      he must demand it by a petition. As for himself, he is accused, and
      therefore must go out; but, seeing he raises difficulties and objections
      to the contrary, we must put it to the vote." And it was passed that we
      should withdraw.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meanwhile, most of the members passed encomiums upon us, satires upon the
      Ministry, and anathemas upon the witnesses for the Crown. Nor were the
      cures and the parishioners wanting in their duty on this occasion. The
      people came in shoals from all parts of Paris to the Parliament House.
      Nevertheless, no disrespect was shown either to the King's brother or to
      M. le Prince; only some in their presence cried out, "God bless M. de
      Beaufort! God bless the Coadjutor!"
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort told the First President next day that, the State and royal
      family being in danger, every moment was precious, and that the offenders
      ought to receive condign punishment, and that therefore the Chambers ought
      to be assembled without loss of time. Broussel attacked the First
      President with a great deal of warmth. Eight or ten councillors entered
      immediately into the Great Chamber to testify their astonishment at the
      indolence and indifference of the House after such a furious conspiracy,
      and that so little zeal was shown to prosecute the criminals. MM. de
      Bignon and Talon, counsel for the Crown, alarmed the people by declaring
      that as for themselves they had no hand in the conclusions, which were
      ridiculous. The First President returned very calm answers, knowing well
      that we should have been glad to have put him into a passion in order to
      catch at some expression that might bear an exception in law.
    </p>
    <p>
      On Christmas Day I preached such a sermon on Christian charity, without
      mentioning the present affairs, that the women even wept for the unjust
      persecution of an archbishop who had so great a tenderness for his very
      enemies.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 29th M. de Beaufort and I went to the Parliament House, accompanied
      by a body of three hundred gentlemen, to make it appear that we were more
      than tribunes of the people, and to screen ourselves from the insults of
      the Court party. We posted ourselves in the Fourth Chamber of the
      Inquests, among the courtiers, with whom we conversed very frankly, yet
      upon the least noise, when the debates ran high in the Great Chamber, we
      were ready to cut one another's throats eight or ten times every morning.
      We were all distrustful of one another, and I may venture to say there
      were not twenty persons in the House but were armed with daggers. As for
      myself, I had resolved to take none of those weapons inconsistent with my
      character, till one day, when it was expected the House would be more
      excited than usual, and then M. de Beaufort, seeing one end of the weapon
      peeping out of my pocket, exposed it to M. le Prince's captain of the
      guards and others, saying, "See, gentlemen, the Coadjutor's prayer-book."
      I understood the jest, but really I could not well digest it. We
      petitioned the Parliament that the First President, being our sworn enemy,
      might be expelled the House, but it was put to the vote and carried by a
      majority of thirty-six that he should retain his station of judge.
    </p>
    <p>
      Paris narrowly escaped a commotion at the time of the imprisonment of
      Belot, one of the syndics of the Hotel de Ville annuitants, who, being
      arrested without a decree, President de la Grange made it appear that
      there was nothing more contrary to the declaration for which they had
      formerly so exerted themselves. The First President maintaining the
      legality of his imprisonment, Daurat, a councillor of the Third Chamber,
      told him that he was amazed that a gentleman who was so lately near being
      expelled could be so resolute in violating the laws so flagrantly.
      Whereupon the First President rose in a passion, saying that there was
      neither order nor discipline in the House, and that he would resign his
      place to another for whom they had more respect. This motion put the Great
      Chamber all in a ferment, which was felt in the Fourth, where the
      gentlemen of both parties hastened to support their respective sides, and
      if the most insignificant lackey had then but drawn a sword, Paris would
      have been all in an uproar.
    </p>
    <p>
      We solicited very earnestly for our trial, which they delayed as much as
      it was in their power, because they could not choose but acquit us and
      condemn the Crown witnesses. Various were the pretences for putting it
      off, and though the informations were not of sufficient weight to hang a
      dog, yet they were read over and over at every turn to prolong the time.
    </p>
    <p>
      The public began to be persuaded of our innocence, as also the Prince de
      Conde, and M. de Bouillon told me that he very much suspected it to be a
      trick of the Cardinal's.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 1st of January, 1650, Madame de Chevreuse, having a mind to visit
      the Queen, with whom she had carried on in all her disgrace an
      unaccountable correspondence, went to the King's Palace. The Cardinal,
      taking her aside in the Queen's little cabinet, said to her:
    </p>
    <p>
      "You love the Queen. Is it not possible for you to make your friends love
      her?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "How can that be?" said she; "the Queen is no more a Queen, but a humble
      servant to M. le Prince."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Good God!" replied the Cardinal; "we might do great things if we could
      get some men into our interest. But M. de Beaufort is at the service of
      Madame de Montbazon, and she is devoted to Vigneul and the Coadjutor;" at
      the mention of which he smiled. "I take you, monsieur," said Madame de
      Chevreuse; "I will answer for him and for her."
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus the conversation began, and the Cardinal making a sign to the Queen,
      Madame de Chevreuse had a long conference that night with her Majesty, who
      gave her this billet for me, written and signed with her own hand:
    </p>
    <p>
      Notwithstanding what has passed and what is now doing, I cannot but
      persuade myself that M. le Coadjuteur is in my interest. I desire to see
      him, and that nobody may know it but Madame and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse.
      This name shall be your security.<br /> ANNE
    </p>
    <p>
      Being convinced that the Queen was downright angry with the Prince de
      Conde on account of a rumour spread abroad that he had some intriguing
      gallantries with her Majesty, I weighed all circumstances and returned the
      answer to the Queen:
    </p>
    <p>
      Never was there one moment of my life wherein I was not devoted to your
      Majesty. I am so far from consulting my own safety that I would gladly die
      for your service . . . I will go to any place your Majesty shall order me.
    </p>
    <p>
      My answer, with the Queen's letter enclosed, was carried back by Madame de
      Chevreuse and well received. I went immediately to Court, and was taken up
      the back staircase by the Queen's train-bearer to the petit oratoire,
      where her Majesty was shut up all alone. She showed me as much kindness as
      she could, considering her hatred against M. le Prince and her friendship
      for the Cardinal, though the latter seemed the more to prevail, because in
      speaking of the civil wars and of the Cardinal's friendship for me she
      called him "the poor Cardinal" twenty times over. Half an hour after, the
      Cardinal came in, who begged the Queen to dispense with the respect he
      owed her Majesty while he embraced me in her presence. He was pleased to
      say he was very sorry that he could not give me that very moment his own
      cardinal's cap. He talked so much of favours, gratifications, and rewards
      that I was obliged to explain myself, knowing that nothing is more
      destructive of new reconciliations than a seeming unwillingness to be
      obliged to those to whom you are reconciled. I answered that the greatest
      recompense I could expect, though I had saved the Crown, was to have the
      honour of serving her Majesty, and I humbly prayed the Queen to give me no
      other recompense, that at least I might have the satisfaction to make her
      Majesty sensible that this was the only reward I valued.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal desired the Queen to command me to accept of the nomination
      to the cardinalate, "which," said he, "La Riviere has snatched with
      insolence and acknowledged with treachery." I excused myself by saying
      that I had taken a resolution never to accept of the cardinalship by any
      means which seemed to have relation to the civil wars, to the end that I
      might convince the Queen that it was the most rigid necessity which had
      separated me from her service. I rejected upon the same account all the
      other advantageous propositions he made me, and, he still insisting that
      the Queen could do no less than confer upon me something that was very
      considerable for the signal service I was likely to do her Majesty, I
      answered:
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is one point wherein the Queen can do me more good than if she gave
      me a triple crown. Her Majesty told me just now that she will cause M. le
      Prince to be apprehended. A person of his high rank and merit neither can
      nor ought to be always shut up in prison, for when he comes abroad he will
      be full of resentment against me, though I hope my dignity will be my
      protection. There are a great many gentlemen engaged with me who, in such
      a juncture, would be ready to serve the Queen. And if it seemed good to
      your Majesty to entrust one of them with some important employment, I
      should be more pleased than with ten cardinals' hats."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal told the Queen that nothing was more just, and the affair
      should be considered between him and me.
    </p>
    <p>
      We had several conferences, at which we agreed on gratifications for some
      of our friends and to arrest the Prince de Conde, the Prince de Conti, and
      the Duc de Longueville.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal took occasion to speak of the treachery of La Riviere. "This
      man," said he, "takes me to be the most stupid creature living, and thinks
      he shall be to-morrow a cardinal. I diverted myself to-day with letting
      him try on some scarlet cloth I lately received from Italy, and I put it
      near his face to know whether a scarlet colour or carnation became him
      best."
    </p>
    <p>
      I heard from Rome that his Eminence was not behindhand with La Riviere
      upon the score of treachery. For on the very day he got him nominated by
      the King, he wrote a letter to Cardinal Sachelli more fit to recommend him
      to a yellow cap than to a red one. This letter, nevertheless, was full of
      tenderness for La Riviere, which Mazarin knew was the only way to ruin him
      with Pope Innocent, who hated Mazarin and all his adherents.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Chevreuse undertook to see how the Duc d'Orleans would relish
      the design of imprisoning the Princes. She told him that, though the Queen
      was not satisfied with M. le Prince, yet she could not form a resolution
      of apprehending him without the concurrence of his Royal Highness. She
      magnified the advantages of bringing over to the King's service the
      powerful faction of the Fronde, and the daily dangers Paris was exposed
      to, both by fire and sword. This last reason touched him as much or more
      than all, for he trembled every time he came to the Parliament; M. le
      Prince very often could not prevail upon him to go at all, and a fit of
      colic was generally assigned as the reason of his absence. At length he
      consented, and on the 18th of January the three Princes were put under
      arrest by three officers of the Queen's Guards.
    </p>
    <p>
      The people having a notion that M. de Beaufort was apprehended, ran to
      their arms, which I caused to be laid down immediately, by marching
      through the streets with flambeaux before me. M. de Beaufort did the like,
      and the night concluded with bonfires.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen sent a letter from the King to the Parliament with the reasons,
      which were neither strong nor well set out, why the Prince de Conde was
      confined. However, we obtained a decree for our absolution.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Princesses were ordered to retire to Chantilly. Madame de Longueville
      went towards Normandy, but found no sanctuary there, for the Parliament of
      Rouen sent her a message to desire her to depart from the city. The Duc de
      Richelieu would not receive her into Havre, and from there she retired to
      Dieppe.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Bouillon, who after the peace was strongly attached to the Prince de
      Conde, went in great haste to Turenne; M. de Turenne got into Stenai; M.
      de La Rochefoucault, then Prince de Marsillac, returned home to Poitou;
      and Marechal de Breze, father-in-law to the Prince de Conde, went to
      Saumur.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was a declaration published and registered in Parliament against
      them, whereby they were ordered to wait on the King within fifteen days,
      upon pain of being proceeded against as disturbers of the public peace and
      guilty of high treason.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court carried all before them. Madame de Longueville, upon the King
      going into Normandy, escaped by sea into Holland, whence she went
      afterwards to Arras, to try La Tour, one of her husband's pensioners, who
      offered her his person, but refused her the place. She repaired at last to
      Stenai, whither M. de Turenne went to meet her, with all the friends and
      servants of the confined Princes that he could muster. The King went from
      Normandy to Burgundy, and returned to Paris crowned with laurels of
      victory.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Princess-dowager, who had been ordered to retire to Bourges, came with
      a petition to Parliament, praying for their protection to stay in Paris,
      and that she might have justice done her for the illegal confinement of
      the Princes her children. She fell at the feet of the Duc d'Orleans,
      begged the protection of the Duc de Beaufort, and said to me that she had
      the honour to be my kinswoman. M. de Beaufort was very much perplexed what
      to do, and I was nearly ready to die for shame; but we could do nothing
      for her, and she was obliged to go to Valery.
    </p>
    <p>
      Several private annuitants, who had made a noise in the assemblies at the
      Hotel de Ville, were afraid of being called to account, and therefore,
      after M. le Prince was arrested, they desired me to procure a general
      amnesty. I spoke about it to the Cardinal, who seemed very pliable, and,
      showing me his hatband, which was 'a la mode de la Fronde', said he hoped
      himself to be comprised in that amnesty; but he shuffled it off so long
      that it was not published and registered in Parliament till the 12th of
      May, and it would not have been obtained then had not I threatened
      vigorously to prosecute the Crown witnesses, of which they were mightily
      apprehensive, being so conscious of the heinousness of their crime that
      two of them had already made their escape.
    </p>
    <p>
      The present calm hardly deserved that name, for the storm of war began to
      rise again in several places at once.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Longueville and M. de Turenne made a treaty with the Spaniards,
      and the latter joined their army, which entered Picardy and besieged
      Guise, after having taken Catelet; but for want of provisions the Archduke
      was obliged to raise the siege. M. de Turenne levied troops with Spanish
      money, and was joined by the greater part of the officers commanding the
      soldiers that went under the name of the Prince's troops.
    </p>
    <p>
      The wretched conduct of M. d'Epernon had so confounded the affairs of
      Guienne that nothing but his removal could retrieve them.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the greatest mischiefs which the despotic authority of ministers
      has occasioned in the world in these later times is a practice, occasioned
      by their own private mistaken interests, of always supporting superiors
      against their inferiors. It is a maxim borrowed from Machiavelli, whom few
      understand, and whom too many cry up for an able man because he was always
      wicked. He was very far from being a complete statesman, and was
      frequently out in his politics, but I think never more grossly mistaken
      than in this maxim, which I observed as a great weakness in Mazarin, who
      was therefore the less qualified to settle the affairs of Guienne, which
      were in so much confusion that I believe if the good sense of Jeannin and
      Villeroi had been infused into the brains of Cardinal de Richelieu, it
      would not have been sufficient to set them right.
    </p>
    <p>
      Senneterre, perceiving that Cardinal Mazarin and I were not cordial
      friends, undertook to reconcile us, and for that end took me to the
      Cardinal, who embraced me very tenderly, said he laid his heart upon the
      table, that was one of his usual phrases,&mdash;and protested he would
      talk as freely to me as if I were his own son. I did not believe a word of
      what he said, but I assured his Eminence that I would speak to him as if
      he were my father, and I was as good as my word. I told him I had no
      personal interest in view but to disengage myself from the public
      disturbances without any private advantage, and that for the same reason I
      thought myself obliged to come off with reputation and honour. I desired
      him to consider that my age and want of skill in public affairs could not
      give him any jealousy that I aimed to be the First Minister. I conjured
      him to consider also that the influence I had over the people of Paris,
      supported by mere necessity, did rather reflect disgrace than honour upon
      my dignity, and that he ought to believe that this one reason was enough
      to make me impatient to be rid of all these public broils, besides a
      thousand other inconveniences arising every moment, which disgusted me
      with faction. And as for the dignity of cardinal, which might peradventure
      give him some umbrage, I could tell him very sincerely what had been and
      what was still my notion of this dignity, which I once foolishly imagined
      would be more honourable for me to despise than to enjoy. I mentioned this
      circumstance to let him see that in my tender years I was no admirer of
      the purple, and not very fond of it now, because I was persuaded that an
      Archbishop of Paris could hardly miss obtaining that dignity some time or
      other, according to form, by actions purely ecclesiastical; and that he
      should be loth to use any other means to procure it.
    </p>
    <p>
      I said that I should be extremely sorry if my purple were stained with the
      least drop of blood spilt in the civil wars; that I was resolved to clear
      my hands of everything that savoured of intrigue before I would make or
      suffer any step which had any tendency that way; that he knew that for the
      same reason I would neither accept money nor abbeys, and that,
      consequently, I was engaged by the public declarations I had made upon all
      those heads to serve the Queen without any interest; that the only end I
      had in view, and in which I never wavered, was to come off with honour, so
      that I might resume the spiritual functions belonging to my profession
      with safety; that I desired nothing from him but the accomplishment of an
      affair which would be more for the King's service than for my particular
      interest; that he knew that the day after the arrest of the Prince he sent
      me with his promise to the annuitants of the Hotel de Ville, and that for
      want of performance those men were persuaded that I was in concert with
      the Court to deceive them. Lastly, I told him that the access I had to the
      Duc d'Orleans might perhaps give him umbrage, but I desired him to
      consider that I never sought that honour, and that I was very sensible of
      the inconveniences attending it. I enlarged upon this head, which is the
      most difficult point to be understood by Prime Ministers, who are so fond
      of being freely admitted into a Prince's presence that, notwithstanding
      all the experience in the world, they cannot help thinking that therein
      consists the essence of happiness.
    </p>
    <p>
      When truth has come to a certain point, it darts such powerful rays of
      light as are irresistible, but I never knew a man who had so little regard
      for truth as Mazarin. He seemed, however, more regardful of it than usual,
      and I laid hold of the occasion to tell him of the dangerous consequences
      of the disturbances of Guienne, and that if he continued to support M.
      d'Epernon, the Prince's faction would not let this opportunity slip; that
      if the Parliament of Bordeaux should engage in their party, it would not
      be long before that of Paris would do the same; that, after the late
      conflagration in this metropolis, he could not suppose but that there was
      still some fire hidden under the ashes; and that the factious party had
      reason to fear the heavy punishment to which the whole body of them was
      liable, as we ourselves were two or three months ago. The Cardinal began
      to yield, especially when he was told that M. de Bouillon began to make a
      disturbance in the Limousin, where M. de La Rochefoucault had joined him
      with some troops.
    </p>
    <p>
      To confirm our reconciliation, a marriage was proposed between my niece
      and his nephew, to which he, gave his consent; but I was much averse to
      it, being not yet resolved to bury my family in that of Mazarin, nor did I
      set so great a value on grandeur as to purchase it with the public odium.
      However, it produced no animosity on either side, and his friends knew
      that I should be very glad to be employed in making a general peace; they
      acted their parts so well that the Cardinal, whose love-fit for me lasted
      about a fortnight, promised me, as it were of his own accord, that I
      should be gratified.
    </p>
    <p>
      News came about this time from Guienne that the Ducs de Bouillon and de La
      Rochefoucault had taken Madame la Princesse into Bordeaux, together with
      M. le Duc, her son. The Parliament was not displeased with the people for
      receiving into their city M. le Duc, yet they observed more decorum than
      could be expected from the inhabitants of Gascogne, so irritated as they
      were against M. d'Epernon. They ordered that Madame la Princesse, M. le
      Duc, MM. de Bouillon and de La Rochefoucault should have liberty to stay
      in Bordeaux, provided they would promise to undertake nothing against the
      King's service, and that the petition of Madame la Princesse should be
      sent to the King with a most humble remonstrance from the Parliament
      against the confinement of the Princes.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the same time, one of the Presidents sent word to Senneterre that the
      Parliament was not so far enraged but that they would still remember their
      loyalty to the King, provided he did but remove M. d'Epernon. But in case
      of any further delay he would not answer for the Parliament, and much less
      for the people, who, being now managed and supported by the Prince's
      party, would in a little time make themselves masters of the Parliament.
      Senneterre did what he could to induce the Cardinal to make good use of
      this advice, and M. de Chateauneuf, who was now Chancellor, talked
      wonderfully well upon the point, but seeing the Cardinal gave no return to
      his reasons but by exclaiming against the Parliament of Bordeaux for
      sheltering men condemned by the King's declaration, he said to him very
      plainly, "Set out to-morrow, monsieur, if you do not arrange matters
      to-day; you should have been by this time upon the Garonne."
    </p>
    <p>
      The event proved that Chateauneuf was in the right, for though the
      Parliament was very excited, they stood out a long time against the
      madness of the people, spurred on by M. de Bouillon, and issued a decree
      ordering an envoy of Spain, who was sent thither to commence a treaty with
      the Duc de Bouillon, to depart the city, and forbade any of their body to
      visit such as had correspondence with Spain, the Princess herself not
      excepted. Moreover, the mob having undertaken to force the Parliament to
      unite with the Princes, the Parliament armed the magistracy, who fired
      upon the people and made them retire.
    </p>
    <p>
      A little time before the King departed for Guienne, which was in the
      beginning of July, word came that the Parliament of Bordeaux had consented
      to a union with the Princes, and had sent a deputy to the Parliament of
      Paris, who had orders to see neither the King nor the ministers, and that
      the whole province was disposed for a revolt. The Cardinal was in extreme
      consternation, and commended himself to the favour of the meanest man of
      the Fronde with the greatest suppleness imaginable.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as the King came to the neighbourhood of Bordeaux the deputies of
      Parliament, who went to meet the Court at Lebourne, were peremptorily
      commanded to open the gates of the city to the King and to all his troops.
      They answered that one of their privileges was to guard the King
      themselves while he was in any of their towns. Upon this, Marechal de La
      Meilleraye seized the castle of Vaire, in the command of Pichon, whom the
      Cardinal ordered to be hanged; and M. de Bouillon hanged an officer in
      Meilleraye's army by way of reprisal.
    </p>
    <p>
      After that the Marshal besieged the city in form, which, despairing of
      succour from Spain, was forced to capitulate upon the following terms:
    </p>
    <p>
      That a general pardon should be granted to all who had taken up arms and
      treated with Spain, that all the soldiers should be disbanded except those
      whom the King had a mind to keep in his pay, that Madame la Princesse and
      the Duke should be at liberty to reside either in Anjou or at Mouzon, with
      no more than two hundred foot and sixty horse, and that M. d'Epernon
      should be recalled from the government of Guienne.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Princess had an interview with both the King and Queen, at which there
      were great conferences between the Cardinal and the Ducs de Bouillon and
      de La Rochefoucault.
    </p>
    <p>
      The deputy from Bordeaux, arriving at Paris soon after the King's
      departure, went immediately, to Parliament, and, after an eloquent
      harangue, presented a letter from the Parliament of Bordeaux, together
      with their decrees, and demanded a union between the two Parliaments.
      After some debates it was resolved that the deputy should deliver his
      credentials in writing, which should be presented to his Majesty by the
      deputies of the Parliament of Paris, who would, at the same time, most
      humbly beseech the Queen to restore peace to Guienne.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans was against debating about the petition to the Queen for
      the liberation of the Priuces and the banishment of Cardinal Mazarin;
      nevertheless, many of the members voted for it, upon a motion made by the
      President Viole, who was a warm partisan of the Prince de Conde, not
      because he had hopes of carrying it, but on purpose to embarrass M. de
      Beaufort and myself upon a subject of which we did not care to speak, and
      yet did not dare to be altogether silent about, without passing in some
      measure for Mazarinists. President Viole did the Prince a great deal of
      service on this occasion, for Bourdet a brave soldier, who had been
      captain of the Guards and was attached to the interest of the Prince&mdash;performed
      an action which emboldened the party very much, though it had no success.
      He dressed himself and fourscore other officers of his troops in mason's
      clothes, and having assembled many of the dregs of the people, to whom he
      had distributed money, came directly to the Duc d'Orleans as he was going
      out, and cried, "No Mazarin! God bless the Princes!" His Royal Highness,
      at this apparition and the firing of a brace of pistols at the same time
      by Bourdet, ran to the Great Chamber; but M. de Beaufort stood his ground
      so well with the Duke's guards and our men, that Bourdet was repulsed and
      thrown down the Parliament stairs.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the confusion in the Great Chamber was still worse. There were daily
      assemblies, wherein the Cardinal was severely attacked, and the Prince's
      party had the pleasure of exposing us as his accomplices. What is very
      strange is that at the same time the Cardinal and his friends accused us
      of corresponding with the Parliament of Bordeaux, because we maintained,
      in case the Court did not adjust affairs there, we would infallibly bring
      the Parliament of Paris into the interest of the Prince. If I were at the
      point of death I should have no need to be confessed on account of my
      behaviour on this occasion. I acted with as much sincerity in this
      juncture as if I had been the Cardinal's nephew, though really it was not
      out of any love to him, but because I thought myself obliged in prudence
      to oppose the progress of the Prince's faction, owing to the foolish
      conduct of his enemies; and to this end I was obliged to oppose the
      flattery of the Cardinal's tools as much as the efforts made by those who
      were in the service of the Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 3d of September President Bailleul returned with the other
      deputies, and made a report in Parliament of his journey to Court; it was,
      in brief, that the Queen thanked the Parliament for their good intentions,
      and had commanded them to assure the Parliament in her name that she was
      ready to restore peace to Guienne, and that it would have been done before
      now had not M. de Bouillon, who had treated with the Spaniards, made
      himself master of Bordeaux, and thereby cut off the effects of his
      Majesty's goodness.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans informed the House that he had received a letter from
      the Archduke, signifying that the King of Spain having sent him full
      powers to treat for a general peace, he desired earnestly to negotiate it
      with him. But his Royal Highness added that he did not think it proper to
      return him any answer till he had the opinion of the Parliament. The
      trumpeter who brought the letter gathered a party at Tiroir cross, and
      spoke very seditious words to the people. The next day they found libels
      posted up and down the city in the name of M. de Turenne, setting forth
      that the Archduke was coming with no other disposition than to make peace,
      and in one of them were these words: "It is your business, Parisians, to
      solicit your false tribunes, who have turned at last pensioners and
      protectors of Mazarin, who have for so long a time sported with your
      fortunes and repose, and spurred you on, kept you back, and made you hot
      or cold, according to the caprices and different progress of their
      ambition."
    </p>
    <p>
      You see the state and condition the Frondeurs were in at this juncture,
      when they could not move one step but to their own disadvantage. The Duc
      d'Orleans spoke to me that night with a great deal of bitterness against
      the Cardinal, which he had never done before, and said he had been tricked
      by him twice, and that he was ruining himself, the State, and all of us,
      and would, by so doing, place the Prince de Conde upon the throne. In
      short, Monsieur owned that it was not yet time to humble the Cardinal.
      "Therefore," said M. Bellievre, "let us be upon our guard; this man can
      give us the slip any moment."
    </p>
    <p>
      Next day a letter was sent from the Prince de Conde, by the Baron de
      Verderonne, to the Archduke, desiring him to name the time, place and
      persons for a treaty. The Baron returned with a letter from the Archduke
      to his Royal Highness, desiring that the conferences might be held between
      Rheims and Rhetel, and that they might meet there personally, with such
      others as they should think fit to bring with them. The Court was
      surprised, but, however, did not think fit to delay sending full powers to
      his Royal Highness to treat for peace on such terms as he thought
      reasonable and advantageous for the King's service; and there were joined
      with him, though in subordination, MM. Mole, the First President, d'Avaux,
      and myself, with the title of Ambassadors Extraordinary and
      Plenipotentiaries. M. d'Avaux obliged me to assure Don Gabriel de Toledo,
      in private, that if the Spaniards would but come to reasonable terms, we
      would conclude a peace with them in two days' time. And his Royal Highness
      said that Don Gabriel being a lover of money, I should promise him for his
      part 100,000 crowns if the conference that was proposed ended in a peace,
      and bid him tell the Archduke that, if the Spaniards proposed reasonable
      terms, he would sign and have them registered in Parliament before Mazarin
      should know anything of the matter.
    </p>
    <p>
      Don Gabriel received the overture with joy; he had some particular
      fancies, but Fuensaldagne, who had a particular kindness for him, said
      that he was the wisest fool he ever saw in his life. I have remarked more
      than once that this sort of man cannot persuade, but can insinuate
      perfectly well, and that the talent of insinuation is of more service than
      that of persuasion, because one may insinuate to a hundred where one can
      hardly persuade five.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King of England, after having lost the battle of Worcester, arrived in
      Paris the day that Don Gabriel set out, the 13th of September, 1651. My
      Lord Taff was his great chamberlain, valet de chambre, clerk of the
      kitchen, cup-bearer, and all,&mdash;an equipage answerable to his Court,
      for his Majesty had not changed his shirt all the way from England. Upon
      his arrival at Paris, indeed, he had one lent him by my Lord Jermyn; but
      the Queen, his mother, had not money to buy him another for the next day.
      The Duc d'Orleans went to compliment his Majesty upon his arrival, but it
      was not in my power to persuade his Royal Highness to give his nephew one
      penny, because, said he, "a little would not be worth his acceptance, and
      a great deal would engage me to do as much hereafter." This leads me to
      make the following digression: that there is nothing so wretched as to be
      a minister to a Prince, and, at the same time, not his favourite; for it
      is his favour only that gives one a power over the more minute concerns of
      the family, for which the public does, nevertheless, think a minister
      accountable when they, see he has power over affairs of far greater
      consequence.
    </p>
    <p>
      Therefore I was not in a condition to oblige his Royal Highness by
      assisting the King of England with a thousand pistoles, for which I was
      horridly, ashamed, both upon his account anal my own; but I borrowed
      fifteen hundred for him from M. Morangis, and carried them to my Lord
      Taff.&mdash;[Lord Clarendon extols the civilities of Cardinal de Retz to
      King Charles II., and has reported a curious conversation which the
      Cardinal had with that Prince.]&mdash;It is remarkable that the same
      night, as I was going home, I met one Tilney, an Englishman whom I had
      formerly known at Rome, who told me that Vere, a great Parliamentarian and
      a favourite of Cromwell, had arrived in Paris and had orders to see me. I
      was a little puzzled; however, I judged it would be improper to refuse him
      an interview. Vere gave me a brief letter from Cromwell in the nature of
      credentials, importing that the sentiments I had enunciated in the
      "Defence of Public Liberty" added to my reputation, and had induced
      Cromwell to desire to enter with me into the strictest friendship. The
      letter was in the main wonderfully civil and complaisant. I answered it
      with a great deal of respect, but in such a manner as became a true
      Catholic and an honest Frenchman. Vere appeared to be a man of surprising
      abilities.
    </p>
    <p>
      I now return to our own affairs. I was told as a mighty secret that
      Tellier had orders from the Cardinal to remove the Princes from the Bois
      de Vincennes if the enemy were likely to come near the place, and that he
      should endeavour by all means to procure the consent of the Duc d'Orleans
      for that end; but that, in case of refusal, these orders should be
      executed notwithstanding, and that he should endeavour to gain me to these
      measures by the means of Madame de Chevreuse. When Tellier came to me I
      assured him that it was all one, both to me and the Duc d'Orleans, whether
      the Princes were removed or not, but since my opinion was desired, I must
      declare that I think nothing can be more contrary to the true interest of
      the King; "for," said I, "the Spaniards must gain a battle before they can
      come to Vincennes, and when there they must have a flying camp to invest
      the place before they can deliver the Princes from confinement, and
      therefore I am convinced that there is no necessity for their removal, and
      I do affirm that all unnecessary changes in matters which are in
      themselves disagreeable are pernicious, because odious. I will maintain,
      further, that there is less reason to fear the Duc d'Orleans and the
      Frondeurs than to dread the Spaniards. Suppose that his Royal Highness is
      more disaffected towards the Court than anybody; suppose further that M.
      de Beaufort and I have a mind to relieve the Princes, in what way could we
      do it? Is not the whole garrison in that castle in the King's service? Has
      his Royal Highness any regular troops to besiege Vincennes? And, granting
      the Frondeurs to be the greatest fools imaginable, will they expose the
      people of Paris at a siege which two thousand of the King's troops might
      raise in a quarter of an hour though it consist of a hundred thousand
      citizens? I therefore conclude that the removal would be altogether
      impolitic. Does it not look rather as if the Cardinal feigns apprehension
      of the Spaniards only as a pretence to make himself master of the Princes,
      and to dispose of their persons at pleasure? The generality of the people,
      being Frondeurs, will conclude you take the Prince de Conde out of their
      hands,&mdash;whom they look upon to be safe while they see him walking
      upon the battlements of his prison,&mdash;and that you will give him his
      liberty when you please, and thus enable him to besiege Paris a second
      time. On the other hand, the Prince's party will improve this removal very
      much to their own advantage by the compassion such a spectacle will raise
      in the people when they see three Princes dragged in chains from one
      prison to another. I was really mistaken just now when I said the case was
      all one to me, for I see that I am nearly concerned, because the people&mdash;in
      which word I include the Parliament will cry out against it; I must be
      then obliged, for my own safety, to say I did not approve of the
      resolution. Then the Court will be informed that I find fault with it, and
      not only that, but that I do it in order to raise the mob and discredit
      the Cardinal, which, though ever so false; yet in consequence the people
      will firmly believe it, and thus I shall meet with the same treatment I
      met with in the beginning of the late troubles, and what I even now
      experience in relation to the affairs of Guienne. I am said to be the
      cause of these troubles because I foretold them, and I was said to
      encourage the revolt at Bordeaux because I was against the conduct that
      occasioned it."
    </p>
    <p>
      Tellier, in the Queen's name, thanked me for my unresisting disposition,
      and made the same proposal to his Royal Highness; upon which I spoke, not
      to second Tellier, who pleaded for the necessity of the removal, to which
      I could by no means be reconciled, but to make it evident to his Royal
      Highness that he was not in any way concerned in it in his own private
      capacity, and that, in case the Queen did command it positively, it was
      his duty to obey. M. de Beaufort opposed it so furiously as to offer the
      Duc d'Orleans to attack the guards which were to remove him. I had solid
      reasons to dissuade him from it, to the last of which he submitted, it
      being an argument which I had from the Queen's own mouth when she set out
      for Guienne, that Bar offered to assassinate the Princes if it should
      happen that he was not in a condition to hinder their escape. I was
      astonished when her Majesty trusted me with this secret, and imagined that
      the Cardinal had possessed her with a fear that the Frondeurs had a design
      to seize the person of the Prince de Conde. For my part, I never dreamed
      of such a thing in my life. The Ducs d'Orleans and de Beaufort were both
      shocked at the thought of it, and, in short, it was agreed that his Royal
      Highness should give his consent for the removal, and that M. de Beaufort
      and myself should not give it out among the people that we approved of it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The day that the Princes were removed to Marcoussi, President Bellievre
      told the Keeper of the Seals in plain terms, that if he continued to treat
      me as he had done hitherto, he should be obliged in honour to give his
      testimony to the truth. To which the Keeper of the Seals returned this
      blunt answer: "The Princes are no longer in sight of Paris; the Coadjutor
      must not therefore talk so loud."
    </p>
    <p>
      I return now to the Parliament, which was so moderate at this time that
      the Cardinal was hardly mentioned, and they agreed, 'nemine
      contradicente', that the Parliament should send deputies to Bordeaux to
      know once for all if that Parliament was for peace or not.
    </p>
    <p>
      Soon after this the Parliament of Toulouse wrote to that of Paris
      concerning the disturbances in Guienne, part whereof belonged to their
      jurisdiction, and expressly demanded a decree of union. But the Duc
      d'Orleans warded off the blow very dexterously, which was of great
      consequence, and, more by his address than by his authority, brought the
      Parliament to dismiss the deputies with civil answers and insignificant
      expressions, upon which President Bellievre said to me, "What pleasure
      should we not take in acting as we do if it were for persons that had but
      the sense to appreciate it!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament did not continue long in that calm. They passed a decree to
      interrogate the State prisoners in the Bastille, broke out sometimes like
      a whirlwind, with thunder and lightning, against Cardinal Mazarin; at
      other times they complained of the misapplication of the public funds. We
      had much ado to ward off the blows, and should not have been able to hold
      out long against the fury of the waves but for the news of the Peace of
      Bordeaux, which was registered there on October the 1st, 1650, and put the
      Prince de Conde's party into consternation.
    </p>
    <p>
      One mean artifice of Cardinal Mazarin's polity was always to entertain
      some men of our own party, with whom, half reconciled, he played fast and
      loose before our eyes, and was eternally negotiating with them, deceiving
      and being deceived in his turn. The consequence of all this was a great,
      thick cloud, wherein the Frondeurs themselves were at last involved; but
      which they burst with a thunderclap.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, being puffed up with his success in settling the troubles of
      Guienne, thought of nothing else than crowning his triumph by chastising
      the Frondeurs, who, he said, had made use of the King's absence to
      alienate the Duc d'Orleans from his service, to encourage the revolt at
      Bordeaux, and to make themselves masters of the persons of the Princes. At
      the same time, he told the Princess Palatine that he detested the cruel
      hatred I bore to the Prince de Conde, and that the propositions I made
      daily to him on that score were altogether unworthy of a Christian. Yet he
      suggested to the Duc d'Orleans that I made great overtures to him to be
      reconciled to the Court, but that he could not trust me, because I was
      from morning to night negotiating with the friends of the Prince de Conde.
      Thus the Cardinal rewarded me for what I did with incredible application
      and, I must say, uncommon sincerity for the Queen's service during the
      Court's absence. I do not mention the dangers I was in twice or thrice a
      day, surpassing even those of soldiers in battles. For imagine, I beseech
      you, what pain and anguish I must have been in at hearing myself called a
      Mazarinist, and at having to bear all the odium annexed to that hateful
      appellation in a city where he made it his business to destroy me in the
      opinion of a Prince whose nature it was to be always in fear and to trust
      none but such as hoped to rise by my fall.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal gave himself such airs after the peace at Bordeaux that some
      said my best way would be to retire before the King's return.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal Mazarin had been formerly secretary to Pancirole, the Pope's
      nuncio for the peace of Italy, whom he betrayed, and it was proved that he
      had a secret correspondence with the Governor of Milan. Pancirole, being
      created cardinal and Secretary of State to the Church, did not forget the
      perfidiousness of his secretary, now created cardinal by Pope Urban, at
      the request of Cardinal de Richelieu, and did not at all endeavour to
      qualify the anger which Pope Innocent had conceived against Mazarin after
      the assassination of one of his nephews, in conjunction with Cardinal
      Anthony.
    </p>
    <p>
      [Anthony Barberini, nephew to Urban VIII., created Cardinal 1628, made
      Protector of the Crown of France 1633, and Great Almoner of the Kingdom
      1653. He was afterwards Bishop of Poitiers, and, lastly, Archbishop of
      Rheims in 1657. Died 1671.]
    </p>
    <p>
      Pancirole, who thought he could not affront Mazarin more than by
      contributing to make me cardinal, did me all the kind offices with Pope
      Innocent, who gave him leave to treat with me in that affair.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Chevreuse told the Queen all that she had observed in my conduct
      in the King's absence, and what she had seen was certainly one continued
      series of considerable services done to the Queen.
    </p>
    <p>
      She recounted at last all the injustice done me, the contempt put upon me,
      and the just grounds of my diffidence, which, she said, of necessity ought
      to be removed, and that the only means of removing it was the hat. The
      Queen was in a passion at this. The Cardinal defended himself, not by an
      open denial, for he had offered it me several times, but by recommending
      patience, intimating that a great monarch should be forced to nothing.
      Monsieur, seconding Madame de Chevreuse in her attack, assailed the
      Cardinal, who, at least in appearance, gave way, out of respect for his
      Royal Highness. Madame de Chevreuse, having brought them to parley, did
      not doubt that she should also bring them to capitulate, especially when
      she saw the Queen was appeased, and had told his Royal Highness that she
      was infinitely obliged to him, and would do what her Council judged most
      proper and reasonable. This Council, which was only a specious name,
      consisted only of the Cardinal, the Keeper of the Seals, Tellier, and
      Servien.
    </p>
    <p>
      The matter was proposed to the Council by the Cardinal with much
      importunity, concluding with a most submissive petition to the Queen to
      condescend to the demand of the Duc d'Orleans, and to what the services
      and merits of the Coadjutor demanded. The proposition was rejected with
      such resolution and contempt as is very unusual in Council in opposition
      to a Prime Minister. Tellier and Servien thought it sufficient not to
      applaud him; but the Keeper of the Seals quite forgot his respect for the
      Cardinal, accused him of prevarication and weakness, and threw himself at
      her Majesty's feet, conjuring her in the name of the King her son, not to
      authorise, by an example which he called fatal, the insolence of a subject
      who was for wresting favours from his sovereign, sword in hand. The Queen
      was moved at this, and the poor Cardinal owned he had been too easy and
      pliant.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had myself given a very natural handle to my adversaries to expose me so
      egregiously. I have been guilty of many blunders, but I think this is the
      grossest that I ever was guilty of in all my life. I have frequently made
      this observation, that when men have, through fear of miscarriage,
      hesitated a long time about any undertaking of consequence, the remaining
      impressions of their fear commonly push them afterwards with too much
      precipitancy upon the execution of their design. And this was my case. It
      was with the greatest reluctance that I determined to accept the dignity
      of a cardinal, because I thought it too mean to form a pretension to it
      without certainty of success; and no sooner was I engaged in the pursuit
      of it but the impression of the former fearful ideas hurried me on, as it
      were, to the end, that I might get as soon as possible out of the
      disagreeable state of uncertainty.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal would have paid my debts, given me the place of Grand
      Almoner, etc.; but if he had added twelve cardinals' hats into the
      bargain, I should have begged his excuse. I was now engaged with Monsieur,
      who had, meanwhile, resolved upon the release of the Princes from their
      confinement.
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal Mazarin, after his return to Paris, made it his chief study to
      divide the Fronde. He thought to materially weaken my interest with
      Monsieur by detaching from me Madame de Chevreuse, for whom he had a
      natural tenderness, and to give me a mortal blow by embroiling me with
      Mademoiselle her daughter. To do this effectually he found a rival, who,
      he hoped, would please her better, namely, M. d'Aumale, handsome as
      Apollo, and one who was very likely to suit the temper of Mademoiselle de
      Chevreuse. He had entirely devoted himself to the Cardinal's interest,
      looked upon himself as very much honoured by this commission, and haunted
      the Palace of Chevreuse so diligently that I did not doubt but that he was
      sent thither to act the second part of the comedy which had miscarried so
      shamefully in the hands of M. de Candale. I watched all his movements, and
      complained to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, but she gave me indirect answers.
      I began to be out of humour, and was soon appeased. I grew peevish again;
      and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse saying in his presence, to please me and to
      sting him, that she could not imagine how it was possible to bear a silly
      fellow, "Pardon me, mademoiselle," replied I, "we suffer fops sometimes
      very patiently for the sake of their extravagances." This man was
      notoriously foppish and extravagant. My answer pleased, and we soon got
      rid of him at the Palace of Chevreuse. But he thought to have despatched
      me, for he hired one Grandmaison, a ruffian, to assassinate me, who
      apprised me of his design. The first time I met M. d'Aumale, which was at
      the Duc d'Orleans's house, I did not fail to let him know it; but I told
      it him in a whisper, saying that I had too much respect for the House of
      Savoy to publish it to the world. He denied the fact, but in such a manner
      as to make it more evident, because he conjured me to keep it secret. I
      gave him my word, and I kept it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Guemenee, with whom I had several quarrels, proposed to the
      Queen likewise to despatch me, by shutting me up in a greenhouse in her
      garden, which she might easily have done, because I often went to her
      alone by night; but the Cardinal, fearing that the people would have
      suspected him as the author of my sudden disappearance, would not enter
      into the project, so it was dropped.
    </p>
    <p>
      To return to our negotiations for the freedom of the Princes. The Duc
      d'Orleans was with much difficulty induced to sign the treaty by which a
      marriage was stipulated between Mademoiselle de Chevreuse and the Prince
      de Conti, and to promise not to oppose my promotion to the dignity of a
      cardinal. The Princes were as active in the whole course of these
      negotiations as if they had been at liberty. We wrote to them, and they to
      us, and a regular correspondence between Paris and Lyons was never better
      established than ours. Bar, their warder, was a very shallow fellow;
      besides, men of sense are sometimes outwitted.
    </p>
    <p>
      [Bar was, according to M. Joly, an unsociable man, who was for raising his
      fortune by using the Princes badly, and who, on this account, was often
      the dupe of Montreuil, secretary to the Prince de Conti.&mdash;See JOLY'S
      "Memoirs," vol. i., p. 88.]
    </p>
    <p>
      Cardinal Mazarin, upon his return with the King from Guienne, was greatly
      pleased with the acclamations of the mob, but he soon grew weary of them,
      for the Frondeurs still kept the wall.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal being continually provoked at Paris by the Abbe Fouquet, who
      sought to make himself necessary, and being so vain as to think himself
      qualified to command an army, marched abruptly out of Paris for Champagne,
      with a design to retake Rhetel and Chateau-Portien, of which the enemy
      were possessed, and where M. de Turenne proposed to winter.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the feast of Saint Martin, the First President and the Attorney-General
      Talon exhorted the Parliament to be peaceable, that the enemies of the
      State might have no advantage. A petition was read from Madame la
      Princesse, desiring that the Princes should be brought to the Louvre and
      remain in the custody, of one of the King's officers, and that the
      Solicitor-General be sent for to say what he had to allege against their
      innocence, and that in case he should have nothing solid to offer they be
      set at liberty.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Chambers, being assembled on the 7th of December, to take the affair
      into consideration, Talon, the Attorney-General, informed the House that
      the Queen had sent for the King's Council, and ordered them to let the
      Parliament know that it was her pleasure that the House should not take
      any cognisance of the Princess's petition, because everything that had
      relation to the confinement of the Princes belonged to the royal
      authority. Talon made a motion that the Parliament should depute some
      members to carry the petition to the Queen, and to beseech her Majesty to
      take it into her consideration. At the same time another petition was
      presented from Mademoiselle de Longueville, for the liberty of the Duke
      her father, and that she might have leave to stay in Paris to solicit it.
    </p>
    <p>
      No sooner was this petition read than a letter from the three Princes was
      presented and read, praying that they might be brought to trial or set at
      liberty.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 9th day of the month an order was brought to the Parliament from
      the King, commanding the House to suspend all deliberations on this
      subject till they had first sent their deputies to Court to know his
      Majesty's pleasure.
    </p>
    <p>
      Deputies were sent immediately, to whom, accordingly, the Queen gave
      audience in bed, telling them that she was very much indisposed. The
      Keeper of the Seals added that it was the King's pleasure that the
      Parliament should not meet at all until such time as the Queen his mother
      had recovered her health.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 10th the House resolved to adjourn only to the 14th, and on that
      day a general procession was proposed to the Archbishop by the Dean of
      Parliament, to beg that God would inspire them with such counsels only as
      might be for the good of the public.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 14th they received the King's letter, forbidding their debates, and
      informing them that the Queen would satisfy them very speedily about the
      affair of the Princes; but this letter was disregarded. They sent a
      deputation to invite the Duc d'Orleans to come to the House, but, after
      consulting with the Queen, he told the deputies that he did not care to
      go, that the Assembly was too noisy, that he could not divine what they
      would be at, that the affairs in debate were never known to fall under
      their cognisance, and that they had nothing else to do but to refer the
      said petitions to the Queen.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 18th news came that Marechal du Plessis had gained a signal victory
      over M. de Turenne, who was coming to succour Rhetel, but found it already
      surrendered to Marechal du Plessis; and the Spanish garrison, endeavouring
      to retreat, was forced to an engagement on the plains of Saumepuis; that
      about 2,000 men were killed upon the spot, among the rest a brother of the
      Elector Palatine, and six colonels, and that there were nearly 4,000
      prisoners, the most considerable of whom were several persons of note, and
      all the colonels, besides twenty colours and eighty-four standards. You
      may easily guess at the consternation of the Princes' party; my house was
      all night filled with the lamentations of despairing mourners, and I found
      the Duc d'Orleans, as it were, struck dumb.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 19th, as I went to the Parliament House, the people looked
      melancholy, dejected, and frightened out of their wits. The members were
      afraid to open their mouths, and nobody would mention the name of Mazarin
      except Menardeau Champre, who spoke of him with encomiums, by giving him
      the honour of the victory of Rhetel, and then he moved the House to
      entreat the Queen to put the Princes into the hands of that good and wise
      Minister, who would be as careful of them as he had been hitherto of the
      State. I wondered most of all that this man was not hissed in the House,
      and especially as he passed through the Great Hall. This circumstance,
      together with what I saw that afternoon in every street, convinced me how
      much our friends were dispirited, and I therefore resolved next day to
      raise their courage. I knew the First President to be purblind, and such
      men greedily swallow every new fact which confirms them in their first
      impression. I knew likewise the Cardinal to be a man that supposed
      everybody had a back door. The only way of dealing with men of that stamp
      is to make them believe that you design to deceive those whom you
      earnestly endeavour to serve.
    </p>
    <p>
      For this reason, on the 20th, I declaimed against the disorders of the
      State, and showed that it having pleased Almighty God to bless his
      Majesty's arms and to remove the public enemy from our frontiers by the
      victory gained over them by Marechal du Plessis, we ought now to apply
      ourselves seriously to the healing of internal wounds of the State, which
      are the more dangerous because they are less obvious. To this I thought
      fit to add that I was obliged to mention the general oppression of the
      subjects at a time when we had nothing more to fear from the lately routed
      Spaniards; that, as one of the props of the public safety was the
      preservation of the royal family, I could not without the utmost concern
      see the Princes breathe the unwholesome air of Havre-de-Grace, and that I
      was of opinion that the House should humbly entreat the King to remove
      them, at least to some place more healthy. At this speech everybody
      regained their courage and concluded that all was not yet lost. It was
      observed that the people's countenances were altered. Those in the Great
      Hall resumed their former zeal, made the usual acclamations as we went
      out, and I had that day three hundred carriages of visitors.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 22d the debate was continued, and it was more and more observed
      that the Parliament did not follow the triumphant chariot of Cardinal
      Mazarin, whose imprudence in hazarding the fate of the whole kingdom in
      the last battle was set off with all the disadvantages that could be
      invented to tarnish the victory.
    </p>
    <p>
      The 30th crowned the work, and produced a decree for making most humble
      remonstrances to the Queen for the liberty of the Princes and for
      Mademoiselle de Longueville staying in Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was further resolved to send a deputation to the Duc d'Orleans, to
      desire his Royal Highness to use his interest on this occasion in favour
      of the said Princes.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King's Council having waited on her Majesty with the remonstrances
      aforesaid, she pretended to be under medical treatment, and put off the
      matter a week longer. The Duc d'Orleans also gave an ambiguous answer. The
      Queen's course of treatment continued eight or ten days longer than she
      imagined, or, rather, than she said, and consequently the remonstrances of
      the Parliament were not made till the 20th of January, 1651.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 28th the First President made his report, and said the Queen had
      promised to return an answer in a few days.
    </p>
    <p>
      It happened very luckily for us at this time that the imprudence of the
      Cardinal was greater than the inconstancy of the Duc d'Orleans, for a
      little before the Queen returned an answer to the remonstrances, he talked
      very roughly to the Duke in the Queen's presence, charging him with
      putting too much confidence in me. The very day that the Queen made the
      aforesaid answer he spoke yet more arrogantly to the Duke in her Majesty's
      apartment, comparing M. de Beaufort and myself to Cromwell and Fairfax in
      the House of Commons in England, and exclaimed furiously in the King's
      presence, so that he frightened the Duke, who was glad he got out of the
      King's Palace with a whole skin, and who said that he would never put
      himself again in the power of that furious woman, meaning the Queen,
      because she had improved on what the Cardinal had said to the King. I
      resolved to strike the iron while it was hot, and joined with M. de
      Beaufort to persuade his Royal Highness to declare himself the next day in
      Parliament. We showed him that, after what had lately passed, there was no
      safety for his person, and if the King should go out of Paris, as the
      Cardinal designed, we should be engaged in a civil war, whereof he alone,
      with the city of Paris, must bear the heavy load; that it would be equally
      scandalous and dangerous for his Royal Highness either to leave the
      Princes in chains, after having treated with them, or, by his dilatory
      proceedings, suffer Mazarin to have all the honour of setting them at
      liberty, and that he ought by all means to go to the Parliament House.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duchess, too, seconded us, and upon his Highness saying that if he
      went to the House to declare against the Court the Cardinal would be sure
      to take his Majesty out of Paris, the Duchess replied, "What, monsieur,
      are you not Lieutenant-General of France? Do not you command the army? Are
      you not master of the people? I myself will undertake that the King shall
      not go out of Paris." The Duke nevertheless remained inflexible, and all
      we could get out of him was that he would consent to my telling the
      Parliament, in his name, what we desired he should say himself. In a word,
      he would have me make the experiment, the success of which he looked upon
      to be very uncertain, because he thought the Parliament would have nothing
      to say against the Queen's answer, and that if I succeeded he should reap
      the honour of the proposition. I readily accepted the commission, because
      all was at stake, and if I had not executed it the next morning I am sure
      the Cardinal would have eluded setting the Princes at liberty a great
      while longer, and the affair have ended in a negotiation with them against
      the Duke.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duchess, who saw that I exposed myself for the public good, pitied me
      very much. She did all she could to persuade the Duke to command me to
      mention to the Parliament what the Cardinal had told the King with
      relation to Cromwell, Fairfax and the English Parliament, which, if
      declared in the Duke's name, she thought would excite the House the more
      against Mazarin; and she was certainly in the right. But he forbade me
      expressly.
    </p>
    <p>
      I ran about all night to incite the members at their first meeting to
      murmur at the Queen's answer, which in the main was very plausible,
      importing that, though this affair did not fall within the cognisance of
      Parliament, the Queen would, however, out of her abundant goodness, have
      regard to their supplications and restore the Princes to liberty. Besides,
      it promised a general amnesty to all who had borne arms in their favour,
      on condition only that M. de Turenne should lay down his arms, that Madame
      de Longueville should renounce her treaty with Spain, and that Stenai and
      Murzon should be evacuated.
    </p>
    <p>
      At first the Parliament seemed to be dazzled with it, but next day, the
      1st of February, the whole House was undeceived, and wondered how it had
      been so deluded. The Court of Inquests began to murmur; Viole stood up and
      said that the Queen's answer was but a snare laid for the Parliament to
      beguile them; that the 12th of March, the time fixed for the King's
      coronation, was just at hand; and that as soon as the Court was out of
      Paris they, would laugh at the Parliament. At this discourse the old and
      new Fronde stood up, and when I saw they, were greatly excited I waved my
      cap and said that the Duke had commanded me to inform the House that the
      regard he had for their sentiments having confirmed him in those he always
      naturally, entertained of his cousins, he was resolved to concur with them
      for procuring their liberty, and to contribute everything in his power to
      effect it; and it is incredible what influence these few words had upon
      the whole assembly. I was astonished at it myself. The wisest senators
      seemed as mad as the common people, and the people madder than ever. Their
      acclamations exceeded anything you can imagine, and, indeed, nothing less
      was sufficient to give heart to the Duke, who had all night been bringing
      forth new projects with more sorrowful pangs and throes (as the Duchess
      expressed it) than ever she had felt when in labour with all her children.
    </p>
    <p>
      When he was fully informed of the good success of his declaration, he
      embraced me several times before all the company, and M. Tellier going to
      wait upon him from the Queen, to know if he acknowledged what I had said
      in his name in the House, "Yes," replied he, "I own, and always will own,
      all that he shall say or act in my name." We thought that after a solemn
      declaration of this nature the Duke would not scruple to take all the
      necessary precautions to prevent the Cardinal carrying away the King, and
      to that end the Duchess did propose to have all the gates of the city well
      guarded, under pretence of some popular tumults. But he was deaf to all
      she said, pretending that he was loth to make his King a prisoner.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 2d of February, 1651, the Duke, urged very importunately by the
      Princes' party informing him that their liberty depended on it, told them
      that he was going to perform an action which would remove all their
      diffidence. He sent immediately for the Keeper of the Seals, Marechal
      Villeroi; and Tellier, and bade them tell the Queen that he would never
      come to the Palais Royal as long as Mazarin was there, and that he could
      no longer treat with a man that ruined the State. And, then, turning
      towards Marechal Villeroi, "I charge you," said he, "with the King's
      person; you shall be answerable for him to me." I was sadly afraid this
      would be a means to hasten the King's departure, which was what we dreaded
      most of all, and I wondered that the Cardinal did not remove after such a
      declaration. I thought his head was turned, and indeed I was told that he
      was beside himself for a fortnight together.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke having openly declared against Mazarin, and being resolved to
      attack and drive him out of the kingdom, bade me inform the House next
      day, in his name, how the Cardinal had compared their body to the Rump
      Parliament in England, and some of their members to Cromwell and Fairfax.
      I improved upon this as much as possible, and I daresay that so much heat
      and ferment was never seen in any society before. Some were for sending
      the Cardinal a personal summons to appear on the spot, to give an account
      of his administration; but the most moderate were for making most humble
      remonstrances to the Queen for his removal. You may easily guess what a
      thunderclap this must have been to the Court. The Queen asked the Duke
      whether she might bring the Cardinal to his Royal Highness. His answer was
      that he did not think it good for the safety of his own person. She
      offered to come alone to confer with his Highness at the Palais d'Orleans,
      but he excused himself with a great deal of respect.
    </p>
    <p>
      He sent orders an hour after to the Marshals of France to obey him only,
      as Lieutenant-General of the State, and likewise to the 'prevots des
      marchands' not to take up arms except by his authority. You will wonder,
      without doubt, that after all this noise no care was taken of the gates of
      Paris to prevent the King's departure. The Duchess, who trembled at the
      thoughts of it, daily redoubled her endeavours to induce the Duke to
      secure the gates of the city, but all to no purpose; for weak minds are
      generally deficient in some respect or other.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 4th the Duke came to the Parliament and assured the assembly of his
      concurrence in everything to reform the State and to procure the liberty
      of the Princes and the Cardinal's removal. As soon as his Royal Highness
      had done speaking, the Master of the Ceremonies was admitted with a letter
      from the King, which was read, and which required the House to separate,
      and to send as many deputies as they could to the Palais Royal to hear the
      King's will and pleasure. Deputies were accordingly sent immediately, for
      whose return the bulk of the members stayed in the Great Chamber. I was
      informed that this was one trick among others concerted to ruin me, and,
      telling the Duc d'Orleans of it, he said that if the old buffoon, the
      Keeper of the Seals, was concerned in such a complication of folly and
      knavery, he deserved to be hanged by the side of Mazarin. But the sequel
      showed that I was not out in my information.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as the deputies were come to the Palais Royal, the First President
      told the Queen that the Parliament was extremely concerned that the
      Princes were still confined, notwithstanding her royal promise for setting
      them at liberty. The Queen replied that Marchal de Grammont was sent to
      release them and to see to their necessary security for the public
      tranquillity, but that she had sent for them in relation to another
      affair, which the Keeper of the Seals would explain to them, and which he
      couched in a sanguinary manifesto, in substance as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "All the reports made by the Coadjutor in Parliament are false, and
      invented by him. He lies!" (This is the only word the Queen added to what
      was already written). "He is a very wicked, dangerous man, and gives the
      Duke very pernicious advice; he wants to ruin the State because we have
      refused to make him cardinal, and has publicly boasted that he will set
      fire to the four corners of the kingdom, and that he will have 100,000 men
      in readiness to dash out the brains of those that shall attempt to put it
      out." These expressions were very harsh, and I am sure that I never said
      anything like that; but it was of no use at this time to make the cloud
      which was gathering over the head of Mazarin fall in a storm upon mine.
      The Court saw that Parliament was assembled to pass a decree for setting
      the Princes at liberty, and that the Duke in person was declaring against
      Mazarin in the Grand Chamber, and therefore they believed that a diversion
      would be as practicable as it was necessary, namely, to bring me upon my
      trial in such a manner that the Parliament could not refuse nor secure me
      from the railleries of the most inconsiderable member. Everything that
      tended to render the attack plausible was made use of, as well as
      everything that might weaken my defence. The writing was signed by the
      four Secretaries of State, and, the better to defeat all that I could say
      in my justification, the Comte de Brienne was sent at the heels of the
      deputies with an order to desire the Duc d'Orleans to come to a conference
      with the Queen in relation to some few difficulties that remained
      concerning the liberty of the Princes.
    </p>
    <p>
      When the deputies had returned to Parliament, the First President began
      with reading the paper which had been delivered to him against me, upon
      which you might have read astonishment in every face. Menardeau, who was
      to open the trenches against me, was afraid of a salvo from the Great
      Hall, where he found such a crowd of people, and heard so many
      acclamations to the Fronde, and so many imprecations against Mazarin, that
      he durst not open his mouth against me, but contented himself with a
      pathetic lamentation of the division that was in the State, and especially
      in the royal family. The councillors were so divided that some of them
      were for appointing public prayers for two days; others proposed to desire
      his Royal Highness to take care of the public safety. I resolved to treat
      the writing drawn up against me by the Cardinal as a satire and a libel,
      and, by some ingenious, short passage, to arouse the minds of my hearers.
      As my memory did not furnish me with anything in ancient authors that had
      any relation to my subject, I made a small discourse in the best Latin I
      was capable of, and then spoke thus:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Were it not for the profound respect I bear to the persons who have
      spoken before me, I could not forbear complaining of their not crying out
      against such a scurrilous, satirical paper, which was just now read,
      contrary to all forms of proceeding, and written in the same style as
      lately profaned the sacred name of the King, to encourage false witnesses
      by letters-patent. I believe that those persons thought this paper, which
      is but a sally of the furious Mazarin, to be much beneath themselves and
      me. And that I may conform my opinion to theirs, I will answer only by
      repeating a passage from an ancient author: 'In the worst of times I did
      not forsake the city, in the most prosperous I had no particular views,
      and in the most desperate times of all I feared nothing.' I desire to be
      excused for running into this digression. I move that you would make
      humble remonstrances to the King, to desire him to despatch an order
      immediately for setting the Princes at liberty, to make a declaration in
      their favour, and to remove Cardinal Mazarin from his person and
      Councils."
    </p>
    <p>
      My opinion was applauded both by the Frondeurs and the Prince's party, and
      carried almost 'nemine contradicente'.
    </p>
    <p>
      Talon, the Attorney-General, did wonders. I never heard or read anything
      more eloquent or nervous. He invoked the names of Henri the Great, and
      upon his knees recommended the kingdom of France in general to the
      protection of Saint Louis.
    </p>
    <p>
      Brienne, who had been sent by the Queen to desire an interview with the
      Duc d'Orleans, was dismissed with no other answer than that the Duke would
      come to pay his humble duty to the Queen as soon as the Princes were at
      liberty, and Cardinal Mazarin removed from the King's person and Councils.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 5th of February there was an assembly of the nobility at Nemours
      for recovering their privileges. I opposed it to the utmost of my power,
      for I had experienced more than once that nothing can be more pernicious
      to a party than to engage without any necessity in such affairs as have
      the bare appearance of faction, but I was obliged to comply. This
      assembly, however, was so terrifying to the Court that six companies of
      the Guards were ordered to mount, with which the Duc d'Orleans was so
      offended that he sent word to the officers, in his capacity of
      Lieutenant-General of the State, to receive no orders but from himself.
      They answered very respectfully, but as men devoted to the Queen's
      interest.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 6th, the Duke having taken his place in the Parliament, the King's
      Council acquainted the House that, having been sent to wait on her Majesty
      with the remonstrances, her Majesty's answer was that no person living
      wished more for the liberty of the Princes than herself, but that it was
      reasonable at the same time to consult the safety of the State; that as
      for Cardinal Mazarin, she was resolved to retain him in her Council as
      long as she found his assistance necessary for the King's service; and
      that it did not belong to the Parliament to concern themselves with any of
      her ministers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The First President was shrewdly attacked in the House for not being more
      resolute in speaking to the Queen. Some were for sending him back to
      demand another audience in the afternoon; and the Duc d'Orleans having
      said that the Marshals of France were dependent on Mazarin, it was
      resolved immediately that they should obey none but his Royal Highness.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was informed that very evening that the Cardinal had made his escape out
      of Paris in disguise, and that the Court was in a very great
      consternation.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal's escape was the common topic of conversation, and different
      reasons were assigned to it, according to the various interests of
      different parties. As for my part, I am very well persuaded that fear was
      the only reason of his flight, and that nothing else hindered him from
      taking the King and the Queen along with him. You will see in the sequel
      of this history that he endeavoured to get their Majesties out of Paris
      soon after he had made his escape, and that it was concerted in all
      probability before he left the Court; but I could never understand why he
      did not put it into execution at a time when he had no reason to fear the
      least opposition.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 17th the Parliament ordered the thanks of the House to be returned
      to the Queen for removing the Cardinal, and that she should be humbly
      asked to issue an order for setting the Princes at liberty, and a
      declaration for excluding all foreigners forever from the King's Council.
      The First President being deputed with the message, the Queen told him
      that she could return him no answer till she had conferred with the Duc
      d'Orleans, to whom she immediately deputed the Keeper of the Seals,
      Marechal Villeroi, and Tellier; but he told them that he could not go to
      the Palais Royal till the Princes were set at liberty and the Cardinal
      removed further from the Court. For he observed to the House that the
      Cardinal was no further off than at Saint Germain, where he governed all
      the kingdom as before, that his nephew and his nieces were yet at Court;
      and the Duke proposed that the Parliament should humbly beseech the Queen
      to explain whether the Cardinal's removal was for good and all. If I had
      not seen it, I could not have imagined what a heat the House was in that
      day. Some were for an order that there should be no favourites in France
      for the future. They became at length of the opinion of his Royal
      Highness, namely, to address the Queen to ask her to explain herself with
      relation to the removal of Cardinal Mazarin and to solicit orders for the
      liberty, of the Princes.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the same day the Queen sent again to desire the Duc d'Orleans to come
      and take his place in the Council, and to tell him that, in case he did
      not think it convenient, she would send the Keeper of the Seals to concert
      necessary measures with him for setting the Princes at liberty. His Royal
      Highness accepted the second, but rejected the first proposal, and treated
      M. d'Elbeuf roughly, because he was very pressing with his Royal Highness
      to go to the King's Palace. The messengers likewise acquainted the Duke
      that they were ordered to assure him that the removal of the Cardinal was
      forever. You will see presently that, in all probability, had his Royal
      Highness gone that day to Court, the Queen would have left Paris and
      carried the Duke along with her.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 19th the Parliament decreed that, in pursuance of the Queen's
      declaration, the Cardinal should, within the space of fifteen days, depart
      from his Majesty's dominions, with all his relations and foreign servants;
      otherwise, they should be proceeded against as outlaws, and it should be
      lawful for anybody to despatch them out of the way.
    </p>
    <p>
      I suspected that the King would leave Paris that very day, and I was
      almost asleep when I was sent for to go to the Duc d'Orleans, whom
      Mademoiselle de Chevreuse went to awaken in the meantime; and, while I was
      dressing, one of her pages brought me a note from her, containing only
      these few words:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Make haste to Luxembourg, and be upon your guard on the way." I found
      Mademoiselle de Chevreuse in his chamber, who acquainted me that the King
      was out of bed, and had his boots on ready for a journey from Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      I waited on the Duke, and said, "There is but one remedy, which is, to
      secure the gates of Paris." Yet all that we could obtain of him was to
      send the captain of the Swiss Guards to wait on the Queen and desire her
      Majesty to weigh the consequences of an action of that nature. His
      Duchess, perceiving that this expedient, if not supported effectually,
      would ruin all, and that his Royal Highness was still as irresolute as
      ever, called for pen and ink that lay upon the table in her cabinet, and
      wrote these words on a large sheet of paper:
    </p>
    <p>
      M. le Coadjuteur is ordered to take arms to hinder the adherents of
      Cardinal Mazarin, condemned by the Parliament, from carrying the King out
      of Paris. MARGUERITE DE LORRAINE.
    </p>
    <p>
      Des Touches, who found the Queen bathed in tears, was charged by her
      Majesty to assure the Duc d'Orleans that she never thought of carrying
      away the King, and that it was one of my tricks.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans saying at the House next day that orders for the
      Princes' liberty would be despatched in two hours' time, the First
      President said, with a deep sigh, "The Prince de Conde is at liberty, but
      our King, our sovereign Lord and King, is a prisoner." The Duc d'Orleans,
      being now not near so timorous as before, because he had received more
      acclamations in the streets than ever, replied, "Truly the King has been
      Mazarin's prisoner, but, God be praised, he is now in better hands."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal, who hovered about Paris till he heard the city had taken up
      arms, posted to Havre-de-Grace, where he fawned upon the Prince de Conde
      with a meanness of spirit that is hardly to be imagined; for he wept, and
      even fell down on his knees to the Prince, who treated him with the utmost
      contempt, giving him no thanks for his release.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 16th of February the Princes, being set at liberty, arrived in
      Paris, and, after waiting on the Queen, supped with M. de Beaufort and
      myself at the Duc d'Orleans's house, where we drank the King's health and
      "No Mazarin!"
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 17th his Royal Highness carried them to the Parliament House, and
      it is remarkable that the same people who but thirteen months before made
      bonfires for their confinement did the same now for their release.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 20th the declaration demanded of the King against the Cardinal,
      being brought to be registered in Parliament, was sent back with
      indignation because the reason of his removal was coloured over with so
      many encomiums that it was a perfect panegyric. Honest Broussel, who
      always went greater lengths than anybody, was for excluding all cardinals
      from the Ministry, as well as foreigners in general, because they swear
      allegiance to the Pope. The First President, thinking to mortify me,
      lauded Broussel for a man of admirable good sense, and espoused his
      opinion; and the Prince de Conde, too, seemed to be overjoyed, saying, "It
      is a charming echo." Indeed, I might well be troubled to think that the
      very day after a treaty wherein the Duc d'Orleans declared that he was
      resolved to make me a cardinal, the Prince should second a proposition so
      derogatory to that dignity. But the truth is, the Prince had no hand in
      it, for it came naturally, and was supported for no other reason but
      because nothing that was brought as an argument against Mazarin could then
      fail of being approved at the same time. I had some reason to think that
      the motion was concerted beforehand by my enemies, to keep me out of the
      Ministry. Nevertheless, I was not offended with the Parliament, the bulk
      of whom I knew to be my friends, whose sole aim was to effectually
      demolish Mazarin, and I acquiesced in the solid satisfaction which I had
      in being considered in the world as the expeller of Mazarin, whom
      everybody hated, and the deliverer of the Princes, who were as much their
      darlings.
    </p>
    <p>
      The continual chicanery of the Court provoked the Parliament of Paris to
      write to all the Parliaments of France to issue decrees against Cardinal
      Mazarin, which they did accordingly. The Parliament obliged the Court to
      issue a declaration setting forth the innocence of the Princes, and
      another for the exclusion of cardinals&mdash;French as well as foreigners&mdash;from
      the King's Council, and the Parliament had no rest till the Cardinal
      retired from Sedan to Breule, a house belonging to the Elector of Cologne.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had advice sent me from the Duchesse d'Orleans to be upon my guard, and
      that she was on the point of dying with fear lest the Duke should be
      forced by the daily menaces of the Court to abandon me. I thereupon waited
      on the Duke, and told him that, having had the honour and satisfaction of
      serving his Royal Highness in the two affairs which he had most at heart,&mdash;namely,
      the expelling of Mazarin and the releasing of the Princes his cousins,&mdash;I
      found myself now obliged to reassume the functions of my profession; that
      the present opportunity seemed both to favour and invite my retreat, and
      if I neglected it I should be the most imprudent man living, because my
      presence for the future would not only be useless but even prejudicial to
      his Royal Highness, whom I knew to be daily importuned and irritated by
      the Court party merely upon my account; and therefore I conjured him to
      make himself easy, and give me leave to retire to my cloister. The Duke
      spared no kind words to retain me in his service, promised never to
      forsake me, confessed that he had been urged to it by the Queen, and that,
      though his reunion with her Majesty and the Princes obliged him to put on
      the mask of friendship, yet he could never forget the great affronts and
      injuries which he had received from the Court. But all this could not
      dissuade me, and the Duke at last gave his approbation, with repeated
      assurances to allow me a place next his heart and to correspond with me in
      secret.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having taken my leave of the Princes, I retired accordingly to my cloister
      of Notre-Dame, where I did not trust Providence so far as to omit the use
      of human means for defending myself against the insults of my enemies.
    </p>
    <p>
      Except the visits which I paid in the night-time to the Hotel de
      Chevreuse, I conversed with none but canons and cures. I was the object of
      raillery both at Court and at the Palace of Conde; and because I had set
      up a bird-cage at a window, it became a common jest that "the Coadjutor
      whistled to the linnets." The disposition of Paris, however, made amends
      for the raillery of the Court. I found myself very secure, while other
      people were very uneasy. The cures, parish priests, and even the
      mendicants, informed themselves with diligence of the negotiations of the
      Prince de Conde. I gave M. de Beaufort a thrust now and then, which he
      knew not how to parry with all his cunning, and the Duc d'Orleans, who in
      his heart was enraged against the Court, continued his correspondence with
      me very faithfully.
    </p>
    <p>
      Soon after, the Marechal du Plessis came to me at midnight and embraced
      me, saying, "I greet you as our Prime Minister." When he saw that I
      smiled, he added, "I do not jest; you may be so if you please. The Queen
      has ordered me to tell you that she puts the King and Crown into your
      hands." He showed me a letter written in the Cardinal's own hand to the
      Queen, which concluded thus:
    </p>
    <p>
      "You know, madame, that the greatest enemy I have in the world is the
      Coadjutor. Make use of him rather than treat with the Prince upon those
      conditions he demands. Make him a cardinal, give him my place, and lodge
      him in my apartments. Perhaps he will be still more attached to the Duc
      d'Orleans than to your Majesty; but the Duke is not for the ruin of the
      State. His intentions in the main are not bad. In a word, madame, do
      anything rather than grant the Prince his demand to have the government of
      Provence added to that of Guienne."
    </p>
    <p>
      I told the Marshal that I could not but be highly obliged to his Eminence,
      and that I was under infinite obligations to the Queen; and to show my
      gratitude, I humbly begged her Majesty to permit me to serve her without
      any private interest of my own; said that I was very incapable for the
      place of Prime Minister upon many accounts, and that it was not consistent
      with her Majesty's dignity to raise a man to that high post who was still
      reeking, as it were, with the fumes of faction.
    </p>
    <p>
      "But," said the Marshal, "the place must be filled by somebody, and as
      long as it is vacant the Prince will be always urging that Cardinal
      Mazarin is to have it again."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You have," said I, "persons much fitter for it than I." Then he showed me
      a letter signed by the Queen, promising me all manner of security if I
      would come to Court. I went thither at midnight, according to agreement,
      and the Marshal, who introduced me to the Queen by the back stairs, having
      withdrawn, her Majesty used all the arguments she could to persuade me to
      accept the place of Prime Minister, which I was determined to refuse,
      because I found that she had the Cardinal at heart more than ever; for, as
      soon as she saw I would not accept the post of Prime Minister, she offered
      me the cardinal's hat, but with this proviso, that I would use my utmost
      endeavours towards the restoration of Cardinal Mazarin. Then I judged it
      high time for me to speak my mind, which I did as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is a great affliction to me, madame, that public affairs are reduced
      to such a pass as not only warrants, but even commands a subject to speak
      to his sovereign in the style in which I am now about to address your
      Majesty. It is well known to you that one of my worst crimes in the
      Cardinal's opinion is that I foretold all these things, and that I have
      passed for the author of events of which I was only the prophet. Your
      Majesty would fain extricate yourself with honour, and you are in the
      right; but permit me to tell you, as my opinion, that it can never be
      effected so long as your Majesty entertains any thoughts of reestablishing
      Mazarin. I should fail in the respect I owe to your Majesty if I pretended
      to thwart your Majesty's opinion with regard to the Cardinal in any other
      way than with my most humble remonstrances; but I humbly conceive I do but
      discharge my bounden duty while I respectfully represent to your Majesty
      wherein I may be serviceable or useless to you at this critical juncture.
      Your Majesty has the Prince to cope with, who, indeed, is for the
      restoration of the Cardinal, but upon condition that you give him such
      powers beforehand as will enable him to ruin him at pleasure. To resist
      the Prince you want the Duc d'Orleans, who is absolutely against the
      Cardinal's reestablishment, and who, provided he be excluded, will do what
      your Majesty pleases to command him. You will neither satisfy the Prince
      nor the Duke. I am extremely desirous to serve your Majesty against the
      one and with the other, but I can do neither the one nor the other without
      making use of proper means for obtaining those two different ends."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Come over to me," said she, "and I shall not care a straw for all the
      Duke can do."
    </p>
    <p>
      I answered, "Should I do so, and should it appear never so little that I
      was on terms of reconciliation with the Cardinal, I could serve your
      Majesty with neither the Duke nor the people, for both would hate me
      mortally, and I should be as useless to your Majesty as the Bishop of
      Dole."
    </p>
    <p>
      At this the Queen was very angry, and said, "Heaven bless my son the King,
      for he is deserted by all the world! I do all I can for you, I offer you a
      place in my Council, I offer you the cardinalship; pray what will you do
      for me?"
    </p>
    <p>
      I said that I did not come to receive favours, but to try to merit them.
    </p>
    <p>
      At this the Queen's countenance began to brighten, and she said, very
      softly, "What is it, then, that you will do?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Madame," said I, "I will oblige the Prince, before a week is at an end,
      to leave Paris; and I will detach the Duke from his interest to-morrow."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, overjoyed, held out her hand and said, "Give me yours, and I
      promise you that you shall be cardinal the next day, and the second man in
      my friendship." She desired also that Mazarin and I might be good friends;
      but I answered that the least touch upon that string would put me out of
      tune and render me incapable of doing her any service; therefore I
      conjured her to let me still enjoy the character of being his enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Was anything," said the Queen, "ever so strange and unaccountable? Can
      you not possibly serve me without being the enemy of him in whom I most
      confide?"
    </p>
    <p>
      I told her it must needs be so. "Madame," I said, "I humbly beseech your
      Majesty to let me tell you that, as long as the place of Prime Minister is
      not filled up, the Prince will increase in power on pretence that it is
      kept vacant to receive the Cardinal by a speedy restoration."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You see," said her Majesty, "how the Prince treats me; he has insulted me
      ever since I disowned my two traitors,&mdash;Servien and Lionne." I took
      the opportunity while she was flushed with anger to make my court to her
      by saying that before two days were at an end the Prince should affront
      her no longer. But the tenderness she had for her beloved Cardinal made
      her unwilling to consent that I should continue to exclaim against his
      Eminence in Parliament, where one was obliged to handle him very roughly
      almost every quarter of an hour. She bade me remember that it was the
      Cardinal who had solicited my nomination. I answered that I was highly
      obliged to his Eminence upon that score, and that I was ready to give him
      proofs of my acknowledgment in anything wherein my honour was not
      concerned, but that I should be a double-dealer if I promised to
      contribute to his reestablishment. Then she said, "Go! you are a very
      devil. See Madame Palatine, and let me hear from you the night before you
      go to the Parliament."
    </p>
    <p>
      I do not think I was in the wrong to refuse her offer. We must never jest
      with proffered service; for if it be real, we can never embrace it too
      much; but if false, we can never keep at too great a distance. I lamented
      to the public the sad condition of our affairs, which had obliged me to
      leave my dear retirement, where, after so much disturbance and confusion,
      I hoped to enjoy comfortable rest; that we were falling into a worse
      condition than we were in before, because the State suffered more by the
      daily negotiations carried on with Mazarin than it had done by his
      administrations; and that the Queen was still buoyed up with hopes of his
      reestablishment.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde having inflamed the Parliament, to make himself more
      formidable to the Queen and Court, some new scenes were opened every day.
      At one time they sent to the provinces to inform against the Cardinal; at
      another time they made search after his effects at Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      I went one day with four hundred men in my company to the Parliament
      House, where the Prince de Conde inveighed against the exportation of
      money out of the kingdom by the Cardinal's banker. But afterwards I
      absented myself for awhile from Parliament, which made me suspected of
      being less an enemy to the Cardinal, and I was pelted with a dozen or
      fifteen libels in the space of a fortnight, by a fellow whose nose had
      been slit for writing a lampoon against a lady of quality. I composed a
      short but general answer to all, entitled "An Apology for the Ancient and
      True Fronde." There was a strong paper war between the old and new Fronde
      for three or four months, but afterwards they united in the attack on
      Mazarin. There were about sixty volumes of tracts written during the civil
      war, but I am sure that there are not a hundred sheets worth reading.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><a name="p346j" id="p346j"></a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="p346j.jpg (72K)" src="images/p346j.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I was sent for again to another private conference with the Queen, who,
      dreading an arrangement with the Prince de Conde, was for his being
      arrested, and advised me to consider how it might be done. It seems that
      M. Hoquincourt had offered to kill him in the street, as the shortest way
      to be rid of him, for she desired me to confer about it with Hoquincourt,
      "who will," said she, "show you a much surer way." The Queen,
      nevertheless, would not own she had ever such a thought, though she was
      heard to say, "The Coadjutor is not a man of so much courage as I took him
      for."
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day I was informed that the Queen could endure the Prince no
      longer, and that she had advices that he had formed a design to seize the
      King; that he had despatched orders to Flanders to treat with the
      Spaniards, and that either he or she must be ruined; that she was not for
      shedding blood, and that what Hoquincourt proposed was far from it,
      because he promised to secure the Prince without striking a blow if I
      would answer for the people.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament continued to prosecute Mazarin, who was convicted of
      embezzling some nine millions of the public money. The Prince assembled
      the Chambers, and persuaded them to issue a new decree against all those
      of the Court party who held correspondence with the said Cardinal.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde, being uneasy at seeing Mazarin's creatures still at
      Court, retired to Saint Maur on the 6th of July, 1651. On the 7th the
      Prince de Conti acquainted the Parliament with the reasons for his
      departure, and talked in general of the warnings he had received from
      different hands of a design the Court had formed against his life, adding
      that his brother could not be safe at Court as long as Tellier, Servien,
      and Lionne were not removed. There was a very hot debate in the ensuing
      session between the Prince de Conti and the First President. The latter
      talked very warmly against his retreat to Saint Maur, and called it a
      melancholy prelude to a civil war. He hinted also that the said Prince was
      the author of the late disturbances, upon which the Prince de Conti
      threatened that had he been in any other place he would have taught him to
      observe the respect due to Princes of the blood. The First President said
      that he did not fear his threats, and that he had reason to complain of
      his Royal Highness for presuming to interrupt him in a place where he
      represented the King's person. Both parties were now in hot blood, and the
      Duke, who was very glad to see it, did not interpose till he could not
      avoid it, and then he told them both that they should endeavour to keep
      their temper.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 14th of July a decree was passed, upon a motion made by the Duc
      d'Orleans, that the thanks of the Parliament should be presented to her
      Majesty for her gracious promise that the Cardinal should never return;
      that she should be most humbly entreated to send a declaration to
      Parliament, and likewise to give the Prince de Conde all the necessary
      securities for his return; and that those persons who kept up
      correspondence with Mazarin should be immediately prosecuted.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 18th the First President carried the remonstrances of the
      Parliament to the Queen, and though he took care to keep within the terms
      of the decree, by not naming the under ministers, yet he pointed them out
      in such a manner that the Queen complained bitterly, saying that the First
      President was "an unaccountable man, and more vexatious than any of the
      malcontents."
    </p>
    <p>
      When I took the liberty to show her that the representative of an assembly
      could not, without prevarication, but deliver the thoughts of the whole
      body, though they might be different from his own, she replied, very
      angrily, "These are mere republican maxims."
    </p>
    <p>
      I will give you an account of the success of the remonstrances after I
      have related an adventure to you which happened at the Parliament House
      during these debates.
    </p>
    <p>
      The importance of the subject drew thither a large number of ladies who
      were curious to hear what passed. Madame and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse,
      with many other ladies, were there the evening before the decree was
      passed; but they were singled out from the rest by one Maillard, a
      brawling fellow, hired by the Prince's party. As ladies are commonly
      afraid of a crowd, they stayed till the Duc d'Orleans and the rest were
      gone out, but when they came into the hall they were hooted by twenty or
      thirty ragamuffins of the same quality as their leader, who was a cobbler.
      I knew nothing of it till I came to the Palace of Chevreuse, where I found
      Madame de Chevreuse in a rage and her daughter in tears. I endeavoured to
      comfort them by the assurance that I would take care to get the scoundrels
      punished in an exemplary manner that very day. But these were too
      inconsiderable victims to atone for such an affront, and were therefore
      rejected with indignation. The blood of Bourbon only could make amends for
      the injury done to that of Lorraine. These were the very words of Madame
      de Chevreuse. They resolved at last upon this expedition,&mdash;to go
      again next morning to the House, but so well accompanied as to be in a
      condition of making themselves respected, and of giving the Prince de
      Conti to understand that it was to his interest to keep his party for the
      future from committing the like insolence. Montresor, who happened to be
      with us, did all he could to convince the ladies how dangerous it was to
      make a private quarrel of a public one, especially at a time when a Prince
      of the blood might possibly lose his life in the fray. When he found that
      he could not prevail upon them, he used all means to persuade me to put
      off my resentment, for which end he drew me aside to tell me what joy and
      triumph it would be to my enemies to suffer myself to be captivated or led
      away by the violence of the ladies' passion. I made him the following
      answer: "I am certainly to blame, both with regard to my profession and on
      account of my having my hands full, to be so far engaged with Mademoiselle
      de Chevreuse; but, considering the obligation I am under to her, and that
      it is too late to recede from it, I am in the right in demanding
      satisfaction in this present juncture. I will not by any means assassinate
      the Prince de Conti; but she may command me to do anything except
      poisoning or assassinating, and therefore speak no more to me on this
      head."
    </p>
    <p>
      The ladies went again, therefore, next day, being accompanied by four
      hundred gentlemen and above four thousand of the most substantial
      burghers. The rabble that was hired to make a clamour in the Great Hall
      sneaked out of sight, and the Prince de Conti, who had not been apprised
      of this assembly, which was formed with great secrecy, was fain to pass by
      Madame and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse with demonstrations of the
      profoundest respect, and to suffer Maillard, who was caught on the stairs
      of the chapel, to be soundly cudgelled.
    </p>
    <p>
      I return to the issue of the remonstrances. The Queen told the deputies
      that she would next morning send to the House a declaration against
      Cardinal Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 21st the Prince de Conde came to Parliament accompanied by M. de La
      Rochefoucault and fifty or sixty gentlemen, and congratulated them upon
      the removal of the ministers, but said that it could not be effectual
      without inserting an article in the declaration which the Queen had
      promised to send to the Parliament. The First President said that it would
      be both unjust and inconsistent with the respect due to the Queen to
      demand new conditions of her every day; that her Majesty's promise, of
      which she had made the Parliament a depositary, was a sufficient security;
      that it was to be wished that the Prince had shown a due confidence
      therein by repairing to the Palais Royal rather than to a court of
      justice; and that the post he was in obliged him to express his surprise
      at such conduct. The Prince replied that the First President had no reason
      to wonder at his great precautions, since he (the Prince) knew by recent
      woeful experience what it was to live in a prison; and that it was
      notorious that the Cardinal ruled now in the Cabinet more absolutely than
      ever he did before.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans, who was gone to Limours on pretence of taking the air,
      though on purpose to be absent from Parliament, being informed that the
      very women cried at the King's coach "No Mazarin!" and that the Prince de
      Conde, as well attended as his Majesty, had met the King in the park, was
      so frightened that he returned to Paris, and on the 2d of August went to
      Parliament, where I appeared with all my friends and a great number of
      wealthy citizens. The First President mightily extolled the Queen's
      goodness in making the Parliament the depositary of her promise for the
      security of the Prince, who, being there present, was asked by the First
      President if he had waited on the King? The Prince said he had not,
      because he knew there would be danger in it, having been well informed
      that secret conferences had been held to arrest him, and that in a proper
      time and place he would name the authors. The Prince added that messengers
      were continually going and coming betwixt the Court and Mazarin at Breule,
      and that Marechal d'Aumont had orders to cut to pieces the regiments of
      Conde, Conti, and Enghien, which was the only reason that had hindered
      them from joining the King's army.
    </p>
    <p>
      The First President told him that he was sorry to see him there before he
      had waited on the King, and that it seemed as if he were for setting up
      altar against altar. This nettled the Prince to that degree that he said
      that those who talked against him had only self-interests in view. The
      First President denied that he had any such aim, and said that he was
      accountable to the King only for his actions. Then he exaggerated the
      danger of the State from the unhappy division of the royal family.
    </p>
    <p>
      Finally it was resolved, 'nemine contradicente', that the
      Solicitor-General should be commissioned to prosecute those who had
      advised the arrest of the Prince de Conde; that the Queen's promise for
      the safety of the Prince should be registered; that his Royal Highness
      should be desired by the whole assembly to go and wait on the King; and
      that the decrees passed against the servitors of Mazarin should be put
      into execution. The Prince, who seemed very well satisfied, said that
      nothing less than this could assure him of his safety. The Duc d'Orleans
      carried him to the King and the Queen, from whom he met with but a cold
      reception.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the close of this session the declaration against the Cardinal was read
      and sent back to the Chancellor, because it was not inserted that the
      Cardinal had hindered the Peace of Munster, and advised the King to
      undertake the journey and siege of Bordeaux, contrary to the opinion of
      the Duc d'Orleans.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, provoked by the conduct of the Prince de Conde, who rode
      through the streets of Paris better attended than the King, and also by
      that of the Duke, whom she found continually given to change, resolved, in
      a fit of despair, to hazard all at once. M. de Chateauneuf flattered her
      inclination on that point, and she was confirmed in it by a fiery despatch
      from Mazarin at Bruele. She told the Duc d'Orleans plainly that she could
      no longer continue in her present condition, demanded his express
      declaration for or against her, and charged me, in his presence, to keep
      the promise I had made her, to declare openly against the Prince if he
      continued to go on as he had begun.
    </p>
    <p>
      Her Majesty was convinced that I acted sincerely for her service, and that
      I made no scruple to keep my promise; and she condescended to make
      apologies for the distrust she had entertained of my conduct, and for the
      injustice she owned she had done me.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 19th, the Prince de Conde having taxed me with being the author of
      a paper against him, which was read that day in the House, said he had a
      paper, signed by the Duc d'Orleans, which contained his justification, and
      that he should be much obliged to the Parliament if they would be pleased
      to desire her Majesty to name his accusers, against whom he demanded
      justice. As to the paper of which he charged me with being the author, he
      said it was a composition worthy of a man who had advised the arming of
      the Parisians and the wresting of the seals from him with whom the Queen
      had entrusted them.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conti was observed to press his brother to resent what I
      said in my defence, but he kept his temper; for though I was very well
      accompanied, yet he was considerably superior to me in numbers, so that if
      the sword had been drawn he must have had the advantage. But I resolved to
      appear there the next day with a greater retinue. The Queen was
      transported with joy to hear that there were men who had the resolution to
      dispute the wall with the Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      ["The Queen," says M. de La Rochefoucault in his Memoirs, "was overjoyed
      to see two men at variance whom in her heart she hated almost equally....
      Nevertheless, she seemed to protect the Coadjutor."]
    </p>
    <p>
      She ordered thirty gendarmes and as many Light-horse to be posted where I
      pleased; I had forty men sent me, picked out of the sergeants and bravest
      soldiers of one of the regiments of Guards, and some of the officers of
      the city companies, and assembled a great number of substantial burghers,
      all of whom had pistols and daggers under their cloaks. I also sent many
      of my men to the eating-houses thereabouts, so that the Great Hall was, as
      it were, invested on every side with my friends. I posted thirty gentlemen
      as a reserve in a convenient chamber, who, in case of an attack, were to
      assault the party of the Prince in flank and rear. I had also laid up a
      store of grenades. In a word, my measures were so nicely concerted, both
      within and without the Parliament House, that Pont Notre-Dame and Pont
      Saint Michel, who were passionately in my interest, only waited for the
      signal; so that in all likelihood I could not fail of being conqueror.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the morning of the 21st all the Prince de Conde's humble servants
      repaired to his house, and my friends did the like to mine, particularly
      the Marquises of Rouillac and Camillac, famous both for their courage and
      extravagances. As soon as the latter saw Rouillac, he made me a low bow in
      a withdrawing posture, saying, "Monsieur, I came to offer you my service,
      but it is not reasonable that the two greatest fools in the kingdom should
      be of the same side." The Prince came to the House with a numerous
      attendance, and though I believe he had not so many as I, he had more
      persons of quality, for I had only the Fronde nobility on my side, except
      three or four who, though in the Queen's interest, were nevertheless my
      particular friends; this disadvantage, however, was abundantly made up by
      the great interest I had among the people and the advantageous posts I was
      possessed of. After the Prince had taken his place, he said that he was
      surprised to see the Parliament House look more like a camp than a temple
      of justice; that there were posts taken, and men under command; and that
      he hoped there were not men in the kingdom so insolent as to dispute the
      precedence with him. Whereupon I humbly begged his pardon, and told him
      that I believed there was not a man in France so insolent as to do it; but
      that there were some who could not, nor indeed ought not, on account of
      their dignity, yield the precedence to any man but the King. The Prince
      replied that he would make me yield it to him. I told him he would find it
      no easy matter. Upon this there was a great outcry, and the young
      councillors of both parties interested themselves in the contest, which,
      you see, began pretty warmly. The Presidents interposed between us,
      conjuring him to have some regard to the temple of justice and the safety
      of the city, and desiring that all the nobility and others in the hall
      that were armed might be turned out. He approved of it, and bade M. de La
      Rochefoucault go and tell his friends so from him. Upon which I said, "I
      will order my friends to withdraw also." Young D'Avaux, now President de
      Mesmes, then in the Prince's interest, said, "What! monsieur, are you
      armed?"&mdash;"Without doubt," I said; though I had better have held my
      tongue, because an inferior ought to be respectful in words to his
      superior, though he may equal him in actions. Neither is it allowable in a
      Churchman when armed to confess it. There are some things wherein men are
      willing to be deceived. Actions very often vindicate men's reputations in
      what they do against the dignity of their profession, but nothing can
      justify words that are inconsistent with their character.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I had desired my friends to withdraw, and was entering into the Court
      of Judicature, I heard an uproar in the hall of people crying out "To
      arms!" I had a mind to go back to see what was the matter; but I had not
      time to do it, for I found myself caught by the neck between the folding
      doors, which M. de La Rochefoucault had shut on me, crying out to MM.
      Coligny and Ricousse to kill me.
    </p>
    <p>
      [This action is very much disguised and softened in the Memoirs of
      Rochefoucault. M. Joly, in his Memoirs, vol. i., p. 155, tells it almost
      in... the same manner as the Cardinal de Retz.]
    </p>
    <p>
      The first thought he was not in earnest, and the other told him he had no
      such order from the Prince. M. Champlatreux, running into the hall and
      seeing me in that condition, vigorously pushed back M. de La
      Rochefoucault, telling him that a murder of that nature was horrible and
      scandalous. He opened the door and let me in. But this was not the
      greatest danger I was in, as you will see after I have told you the
      beginning and end of it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Two or three of the Prince de Conde's mob cried out, as soon as they saw
      me, "A Mazarin!" Two of the Prince's soldiers drew their swords, those
      next to them cried out, "To your arms!" and in a trice all were in a
      fighting posture. My friends drew their swords, daggers, and pistols, and
      yet, as it were by a miracle, they stopped their hands on a sudden from
      action; for in that very instant of time, Crenan, one of my old friends,
      who commanded a company of the Prince de Conti's gendarmes, said to
      Laigues, "What are we doing? Must we let the Prince de Conde and the
      Coadjutor be murdered? Whoever does not put up his sword is a rascal!"
      This expression coming from a man of great courage and reputation, every
      one did as he bade them. Nor is Argenteuil's courage and presence of mind
      to be less admired. He being near me when I was caught by the neck between
      the folding doors, and observing one Peche,&mdash;[Joly calls him "The
      great clamourer of the Prince." See his Memoirs, p. 157.]&mdash;a brawling
      fellow of the Prince's party, looking for me with a dagger in his hand,
      screened me with his cloak, and thereby saved my life, which was in the
      more danger because my friends, who supposed I was gone into the Great
      Chamber, stayed behind to engage with the Prince de Conde's party. The
      Prince told me since that it was well I kept on the defensive, and that
      had the noise in the hall continued but a minute longer, he would himself
      have taken me by the throat and made me pay for all; but I am fully
      persuaded that the consequences would have been fatal to both parties, and
      that he himself had had a narrow escape.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as I reentered the Great Chamber I told the First President that I
      owed my life to his son, who on that occasion did the most generous action
      that a man of honour was capable of, because he was passionately attached
      to the Prince de Conde, and was persuaded, though without a cause, that I
      was concerned in above twenty editions against his father during the siege
      of Paris. There are few actions more heroic than this, the memory of which
      I shall carry to my grave. I also added that M. de La Rochefoucault had
      done all he could to murder me.'
    </p>
    <p>
      [The Duke answered, as he says himself in his Memoirs, that fear had
      disturbed his judgment, etc. See in the Memoirs of M. de La Rochefoucault,
      the relation of what passed after the confinement of the Princes.]
    </p>
    <p>
      He answered me these very words: "Thou traitor, I don't care what becomes
      of thee." I replied, "Very well, Friend Franchise" (we gave him that
      nickname in our party); "you are a coward" (I told a lie, for he was
      certainly a brave man), "and I am a priest; but dueling is not allowed
      us." M. de Brissac threatened to cudgel him, and he to kick Brissac. The
      President, fearing these words would end in blows, got between us. The
      First President conjured the Prince pathetically, by the blood of Saint
      Louis, not to defile with blood that temple which he had given for the
      preservation of peace and the protection of justice; and exhorted me, by
      my sacred character, not to contribute to the massacre of the people whom
      God had committed to my charge. Both the Prince and I sent out two
      gentlemen to order our friends and servants to retire by different ways.
      The clock struck ten, the House rose, and thus ended that morning's work,
      which was likely to have ruined Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      You may easily guess what a commotion Paris was in all that morning.
      Tradesmen worked in their shops with their muskets by them, and the women
      were at prayers in the churches. Sadness sat on the brows of all who were
      not actually engaged in either party. The Prince, if we may believe the
      Comte de Fiesque, told him that Paris narrowly escaped being burnt that
      day. "What a fine bonfire this would have been for the Cardinal," said he;
      "especially to see it lighted by the two greatest enemies he had!"
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans, quite tired out with the cries of the people, who ran
      affrighted to his palace, and fearing that the commotion would not stop at
      the Parliament House, made the Prince promise that he would not go next
      day to the Parliament with above five in company, provided I would engage
      to carry no more. I begged his Royal Highness to excuse me if I did not
      comply, because I should be wanting in my respect to the Prince, with whom
      I ought not to make any comparison, and because I should be still exposed
      to a pack of seditious brawlers, who cried out against me, having no laws
      nor owning any chief. I added that it was only against this sort of people
      that I armed; that there was so little comparison between a private
      gentleman and his Highness that five hundred men were less to the Prince
      than a single lackey to me. The Duke, who owned I was in the right, went
      to the Queen to represent to her the evil consequences that would
      inevitably attend such measures.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen, who neither feared nor foresaw dangers, made no account of his
      remonstrances, for she was glad in the main of the dangers which seemed to
      be so near at hand. When Bertet and Brachet, who crept up to the garrets
      of the Palais Royal for fear of having their throats cut in the general
      commotion, had made her sensible that if the Prince and myself should
      perish in such a juncture it would occasion such a confusion that the very
      name of Mazarin might become fatal to the royal family, she yielded rather
      to her fears than to her convictions, and consented to send an order in
      the King's name to forbid both the Prince and me to go to the House. The
      First President, who was well assured that the Prince would not obey an
      order of that nature, which could not be forced upon him with justice,
      because his presence was necessary in the Parliament, went to the Queen
      and made her sensible that it would be against all justice and equity to
      forbid the Prince to be present in an assembly where he went only to clear
      himself from a crime laid to his charge. He showed her the difference
      between the first Prince of the blood, whose presence would be necessary
      in that conjuncture, and a Coadjutor of Paris, who never had a seat in the
      Parliament but by courtesy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen yielded at last to these reasons and to the entreaties of all
      the Court ladies, who dreaded the noise and confusion which was likely to
      occur next day in the Parliament House.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Parliament met next day, and resolved that all the papers, both of the
      Queen, the Duc d'Orleans, and the Prince de Conde, should be carried to
      the King and Queen, that her Majesty should be humbly entreated to
      terminate the affair, and that the Duc d'Orleans should be desired to make
      overtures towards a reconciliation.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the Prince was coming out of the Parliament House, attended by a
      multitude of his friends, I met him in his coach as I was at the head of a
      procession of thirty or forty cures of Paris, followed by a great number
      of people. Upon my approach, three or four of the mob following the Prince
      cried out, "A Mazarin!" but the Prince alighted and silenced them.
    </p>
    <p>
      [M. de La Rochefoucault, in his Memoirs, says that the people abused the
      Coadjutor with scurrilous language, and would have torn him in pieces if
      the prince had not ordered his men to appease the tumult.]
    </p>
    <p>
      He then fell on his knees to receive my blessing, which I gave him with my
      hat on, and then pulled it off in obeisance.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen was so well pleased with my prudent conduct that I can truly say
      I was a favourite for some days. Madame de Carignan was telling her one
      day that I was very homely, to which the Queen replied, "He has a very
      fine set of teeth, and a man cannot be called homely who has this
      ornament." Madame de Chevreuse remembered that she had often heard the
      Queen say that the beauty of a man consisted chiefly in his teeth, because
      it was the only beauty which was of any use. Therefore she advised me to
      act my part well, and she should not despair of success. "When you are
      with the Queen," said she, "be serious; look continually on her hands,
      storm against the Cardinal, and I will take care of the rest" I asked two
      or three audiences of the Queen upon very trifling occasions, followed
      Madame de Chevreuse's plan very closely, and carried my resentment and
      passion against the Cardinal even to extravagance. The Queen, who was
      naturally a coquette, understood those airs, and acquainted Madame de
      Chevreuse therewith, who pretended to be surprised, saying, "Indeed, I
      have heard the Coadjutor talk of your Majesty whole days with delight; but
      if the conversation happened to touch upon the Cardinal, he was no longer
      the same man, and even raved against your Majesty, but immediately
      relented towards you, though never towards the Cardinal."
    </p>
    <p>
      Madame de Chevreuse, who was the Queen's confidante in her youth, gave me
      such a history of her early days as I cannot omit giving you, though I
      should have done it sooner. She told me that the Queen was neither in body
      nor mind truly Spanish; that she had neither the temperament nor the
      vivacity of her nation, but only the coquetry of it, which she retained in
      perfection; that M. Bellegarde, a gallant old gentleman, after the fashion
      of the Court of Henri III., pleased her till he was going to the army,
      when he begged for one favour before his departure, which was only to put
      her hand to the hilt of his sword, a compliment so insipid that her
      Majesty was out of conceit with him ever after. She approved the gallant
      manner of M. de Montmorency much more than she loved his person. The
      aversion she had to the pedantic behaviour of Cardinal de Richelieu, who
      in his amours was as ridiculous as he was in other things excellent, made
      her irreconcilable to his addresses. She had observed from the beginning
      of the Regency a great inclination in the Queen for Mazarin, but that she
      had not been able to discover how far that inclination went, because she
      (Madame de Chevreuse) had been banished from the Court very soon after;
      and that upon her return to France, after the siege of Paris, the Queen
      was so reserved at first with her that it was impossible for her to dive
      into her secrets. That since she regained her Majesty's favour she had
      sometimes observed the same airs in her with regard to Cardinal Mazarin as
      she used to display formerly in favour of the Duke of Buckingham; but at
      other times she thought that there was no more between them than a league
      of friendship. The chief ground for her conjecture was the impolite and
      almost rude way in which the Cardinal conversed with her Majesty. "But,
      however," said Madame de Chevreuse, "when I reflect on the Queen's humour,
      all this may admit of another interpretation. Buckingham used to tell me
      that he had been in love with three Queens, and was obliged to curb all
      the three; therefore I cannot tell what to think of the matter."
    </p>
    <p>
      To resume the history of more public affairs. I did not so far please
      myself with the figure I made against the Prince (though I thought it very
      much for my honour), but I saw clearly that I stood on a dangerous
      precipice.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Whither are we going?" I said to M. Bellievre, who seemed to be overjoyed
      that the Prince had not been able to devour me; "for whom do we labour? I
      know that we are obliged to act as we do; I know, too, that we cannot do
      better; but should we rejoice at the fatal necessity which pushes us on to
      exert an action comparatively good and which will unavoidably end in a
      superlative evil?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I understand you," said the President, "and will interrupt you for one
      moment to tell you what I learned of Cromwell" (whom he had known in
      England). "He told me one day that it is then we are mounting highest when
      we ourselves do not know whither we are going."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You know, monsieur," said I to Bellievre, "that I abhor Cromwell; and
      whatever is commonly reported of his great parts, if he is of this
      opinion, I must pronounce him a fool."
    </p>
    <p>
      I mentioned this dialogue for no other purpose than to observe how
      dangerous it is to talk disrespectfully of men in high positions; for it
      was carried to Cromwell, who remembered it with a great deal of resentment
      on an occasion which I shall mention hereafter, and said to M. de
      Bourdeaux, Ambassador of France, then in England, "I know but one man in
      the world who despises me, and that is Cardinal de Retz." This opinion of
      him was likely to have cost me very dear. I return from this digression.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 31st, Melayer, valet de chambre to the Cardinal, arrived with a
      despatch to the Queen, in which were these words: "Give the Prince de
      Conde all the declarations of his innocence that he can desire, provided
      you can but amuse him and hinder him from giving you the slip."
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 4th the Prince de Conde insisted in Parliament on a formal decree
      for declaring his innocence, which was granted, but deferred to be
      published till the 7th of September (the day that the King came of age),
      on pretence of rendering it more authentic and solemn by the King's
      presence, but really to gain time, and see what influence the splendour of
      royalty, which was to be clothed that day with all the advantages of pomp,
      would have upon the minds of the people.
    </p>
    <p>
      But the Prince de Conde, who had reason to distrust both the Fronde and
      the Court, did not appear at the ceremony, and sent the Prince de Conti to
      the King to desire to be excused, because the calumnies and treacheries of
      his enemies would not suffer him to come to the Palace; adding that he
      kept away out of pure respect to his Majesty. This last expression, which
      seemed to intimate that otherwise he might have gone thither without
      danger, provoked the Queen to that degree that she said, "The Prince or I
      must perish."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde retired to Bourges,&mdash;further from Court. He was
      naturally averse to a civil war, nor would his adherents have been more
      forward than himself if they had found their interests in his
      reconciliation to the Court; but this seemed impracticable, and therefore
      they agreed upon a civil war, because none of them believed themselves
      powerful enough to conclude a peace. They know nothing of the nature of
      faction who imagine the head of a party to be their master. His true
      interest is most commonly thwarted by the imaginary interests even of his
      subalterns, and the worst of it is that his own honour sometimes, and
      generally prudence, joins with them against himself. The passions and
      discontent which reigned then among the friends of the Prince de Conde ran
      so high that they were obliged to abandon him and form a third party,
      under the authority of the Prince de Conti, in case the Prince
      accomplished his reconciliation to the Court, according to a proposition
      then made to him in the name of the Duc d'Orleans. The subdivision of
      parties is generally the ruin of all, especially when it is introduced by
      cunning views, directly contrary to prudence; and this is what the
      Italians call, in comedy, a "plot within a plot," or a "wheel within a
      wheel."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <a name="book4" id="book4"></a>
    </p>
    <h1>
      BOOK IV.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      In December, 1651, the Parliament agreed to the following resolution: To
      send a deputation to the King to inform him of the rumours of Mazarin's
      return, and to beseech him to confirm the royal promise which he had made
      to his people upon that head; to forbid all governors to give the Cardinal
      passage; to desire the King to acquaint the Pope and other Princes with
      the reasons that had obliged him to remove the Cardinal; and to send to
      all the Parliaments of the kingdom to make the like decree.
    </p>
    <p>
      Somebody making a motion that a price might be set upon the Cardinal's
      head, I and the rest of the spiritual councillors retired, because
      clergymen are forbidden by the canon law to give their vote in cases of
      life and death.
    </p>
    <p>
      They agreed also to send deputies to the King to entreat him to write to
      the Elector of Cologne to send the Cardinal out of his country, and to
      forbid the magistrates of all cities to entertain any troops sent to
      favour his return or any of his kindred or domestics. A certain councillor
      who said, very judiciously, that the soldiers assembling for Mazarin upon
      the frontiers would laugh at all the decrees of Parliament unless they
      were proclaimed to them by good musketeers and pikemen, was run down as if
      he had talked nonsense, and all the clamour was that it belonged only to
      the King to disband soldiers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans acquainted the House, on the 29th, that Cardinal Mazarin
      had arrived at Sedan; that Marechals de Hoquincourt and de la Ferte were
      gone to join him with their army to bring him to Court; and that it was
      high time to oppose his designs. Upon this it was immediately resolved
      that deputies should be despatched forthwith to the King; that the
      Cardinal and all his adherents should be declared guilty of high treason;
      that the common people should be commanded to treat them as such wherever
      they met them; that his library and all his household goods should be
      sold, and that 150,000 livres premium should be given to any man who
      should deliver up the said Cardinal, either dead or alive. Upon this
      expression all the ecclesiastics retired, for the reason above mentioned.
    </p>
    <p>
      A new decree was passed on the 2d of January, 1652, wherein it was decided
      that all the Parliaments of France should be invited to issue their
      decrees against Mazarin, conformable to the last; that two more
      councillors should be added to the four sent to guard the rivers and to
      arm the common people; and that the troops of the Duc d'Orleans should
      oppose the march of Mazarin.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 24th the deputies who had been to Poitiers to remonstrate with the
      King against the return of the Cardinal, made their report in Parliament,
      to the effect that his Majesty, after having consulted with the Queen and
      her Council, returned for answer, that without doubt, when the Parliament
      issued their late decrees, they did not know that Cardinal Mazarin had
      made no levy of soldiers but by his Majesty's express orders; that it was
      he who commanded him to enter France with his troops, and that therefore
      the King did not resent what the company had done; but that, on the other
      hand, he did not doubt that when they had heard the circumstances he had
      just mentioned, and knew, moreover, that Cardinal Mazarin only desired an
      opportunity to justify himself, they would not fail to give all his
      subjects an exemplary proof of the obedience they owed to him. The
      Parliament was highly provoked, and next day resolved to admit no more
      dukes, peers, nor marshals of France till the Cardinal had left the
      kingdom.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mazarin, arriving at Court again, persuaded the King to go to Saumur,
      though others advised him to march to Guienne against the Prince de Conde,
      with whom the Duc d'Orleans was now resolved to join forces. The King went
      from Saumur to Tours, where the Archbishop of Rouen carried complaints to
      the King, in the name of the bishops there, against the decrees of
      Parliament relating to the Cardinal.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans complained in Parliament against the inconsistency of
      their proceedings, and said the King had sent him carte blanche in order
      to oblige him to consent to the restoration of the Cardinal, but that
      nothing would ever cause him to do it, nor to act apart from the
      Parliament. Yet their unaccountable proceedings perplexed him beyond
      expression, so that he commanded, or rather permitted, M. de Beaufort to
      put his troops in action. And because I told him that, considering the
      declarations he had so often repeated against Mazarin, I thought his
      conduct in setting his troops in motion against him did not add so much to
      the measure of the disgust he had already given to the Court that he need
      to apprehend much from it, he gave me for answer these memorable words
      which I have reflected upon a thousand times: "If you," said he, "had been
      born a Son of France, an Infante of Spain, a King of Hungary, or a Prince
      of Pales, you would not talk as you do. You must know that, with us
      Princes, words go for nothing, but that we never forget actions. By
      to-morrow noon the Queen would not remember my declarations against the
      Cardinal if I would admit him tomorrow morning; but if my troops were to
      fire a musket she would not forgive me though we were to live two thousand
      years hence."
    </p>
    <p>
      In February, 1652, I was made a cardinal, and was to receive the hat, as
      all French cardinals do, from the King. My enemies, who thought to ruin my
      credit with the Duc d'Orleans, gave out that I had been obliged to the
      Court for my dignity, attacked me in form as a secret favourer of Mazarin,
      and, while their emissaries gained over such of the dregs of the people as
      they could corrupt by money, they were supported by all the intrigues of
      the Cabinet. But the Duke, who knew better, only laughed at them; so that
      they confirmed me in his good opinion, instead of supplanting me, because
      in cases of slander every reflection that does not hurt the person
      attacked does him service. I said to the Duke that I wondered he was not
      wearied out with the silly stories that were told him every day against
      me, since they all harped upon one string; but he said, "Do you take no
      account of the pleasure one takes every morning in hearing how wicked men
      are under the cloak of religious zeal, and every night how silly they are
      under the mask of politicians?"
    </p>
    <p>
      The servants of the Prince de Conde gave out such stories against me among
      the populace as were likely to have done me much more mischief. They had a
      pack of brawling fellows in their pay who were more troublesome to me now
      than formerly, when they did not dare to appear before the numerous
      retinue of gentlemen and liverymen that accompanied me, for as I had not
      yet had the hat, I was obliged, wherever I went, to go incognito,
      according to the rules of the ceremonial. Those fellows said that I had
      betrayed the Duc d'Orleans, and that they would be the death of me. I told
      the Duke, who was afraid they would murder me, that he should soon see how
      little those hired mobs ought to be regarded. He offered me his guards,
      but though Marechal d'Estampes fell on his knees in my way to stop me, I
      went down-stairs with only two persons in company, and made directly
      towards the ruffians, demanding who was their leader. Upon which a
      beggarly fellow, with an old yellow feather in his hat, answered me,
      insolently, "I am." Then I called out to the guards at the gate, saying,
      "Let me have this rascal hanged up at these grates." Thereupon he made me
      a very low bow, and said that he did not mean to affront me; that he only
      came with his comrades to tell me of the report that I designed to carry
      the Duc d'Orleans to Court, and reconcile him with Mazarin; that they did
      not believe it; that they were at my service, and ready to venture their
      lives for me, provided I would but promise them to be always an honest
      Frondeur.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans took such delight in conversing with me that, on De
      Goulas, one of his secretaries, telling him that all the foreign officers
      took mighty umbrage at it, he pulled him up very sharply, and said, "Go to
      the devil, you and your foreign officers. If they were as good Frondeurs
      as Cardinal de Retz, they would be at their posts, and not tippling in the
      taverns of Paris." There was such a strong faction in the city of Orleans
      for the Court that his presence there was very necessary; but as it was
      much more so at Paris, the Duke was prevailed upon by his Duchess to let
      her go thither. M. Patru was pleased to say that as the gates of Jericho
      fell at the sound of trumpets, those of Orleans would open at the sound of
      fiddles, of which M. de Rohan was a very great admirer. But, in fact,
      though the King was just at hand with the troops, and though M. Mold,
      Keeper of the Seals, was at the gate demanding entrance for the King, the
      Duchess crossed the river in a barge, made the watermen break down a
      little postern, which had been walled up for a long time, and marched,
      with the acclamations of multitudes of the people, directly to the Hotel
      de Ville, where the magistrates were assembled to consider if they should
      admit the Keeper of the Seals. By this means she turned the scale, and MM.
      de Beaufort and de Nemours joined her.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Prince de Conde arriving at Paris from Guienne on the 11th of April,
      the magistrates had a meeting in the Hotel de Ville, in which they
      resolved that the Governor should wait on his Royal Highness, and tell him
      that the company thought it contrary to order to receive him into the city
      before he had cleared himself from the King's declaration, which had been
      verified in Parliament against him.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans, who was overjoyed at this speech, said that the Prince
      had only come to discourse with him about private affairs, and that he
      would stay but twenty-four hours at Paris. M. de Chavigni informed the
      Duke that the Prince was able to stand his ground as long as he pleased,
      without being obliged to anybody; and he gathered together a mob of
      scoundrels upon the Pont-Neuf, whose fingers itched to be plundering the
      house of M. du Plessis Guenegaut, and by whom the Duke was frightened to a
      great degree.
    </p>
    <p>
      The reflections I had leisure to make upon my new dignity obliged me to
      take great care of my hat, whose dazzling flame of colour turns the heads
      of many that are honoured with it. The most palpable of those delusions is
      the claiming precedence of Princes of the blood, who may become our
      masters the next moment, and who at the same time are generally the
      masters of all our kindred. I have a veneration for the cardinals of my
      family, who made me suck in humility after their example with my mother's
      milk, and I found a very happy opportunity to practise it on the very day
      that I received the news of my promotion. Chateaubriant said to me, before
      a vast number of people at my levee, "Now we will pay our respects no more
      to the best of them," which he said because, though I was upon ill terms
      with the Prince de Conde, and though I always went well attended, I yet
      saluted him wherever I met him with all the respect due to him on the
      score of so many titles. I said to him:
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pray pardon me, monsieur; we shall pay our respects to the great men with
      greater complaisance than ever. God forbid that the red hat should turn my
      head to that degree as to make me dispute precedence with the Princes of
      the blood. It is honour enough for a gentleman to walk side by side with
      them." This expression, I verily believe, afterwards secured the rank of
      precedence to the hat in the kingdom of France, by the courtesy of the
      Prince de Conde, and his friendship for me.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, the most fantastical lady upon earth,
      suspecting that I held a secret correspondence with the Queen, could not
      forbear murmuring and threatening what she would do. She said I had
      declared to her a thousand times that I could not imagine how it was
      possible for anybody to be in love with that Swiss woman. In short, she
      said this so often that the Queen had a notion from somebody or other that
      I had called her by that name. She never forgave me for it, as you will
      perceive in the sequel. You may easily conceive that this circumstance,
      which gave me no encouragement to hope for a very gracious reception at
      Court for the time to come, did not weaken those resolutions which I had
      already taken to retire from public business. The place of my retreat was
      agreeable enough: the shadow of the towers of Notre-Dame was a refreshment
      to it; and, moreover, the Cardinal's hat sheltered it from bad weather. I
      had fine ideas of the sweetness of such a retirement, and I would gladly
      have laid hold of it, but my stars would not have it so. I return to my
      narrative.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 12th of April the Duc d'Orleans took the Prince de Conde with him
      to the Parliament, assuring them that he had not, nor ever would have, any
      other intention than to serve his King and country; that he would always
      follow the sentiments of the Parliament; and that he was willing to lay
      down his arms as soon as the decrees against Cardinal Mazarin were put
      into execution.
    </p>
    <p>
      The President Bailleul said that the members always thought it an honour
      to see the Prince de Conde in his place, but that they could not dissemble
      their real concern to see his hands stained with the blood of the King's
      soldiers who were killed at Bleneau. Upon this a storm arose from the
      benches, which fell with such fury upon the poor President that he had
      scarcely room to put in a word for himself, for fifty or sixty voices
      disowned him at one volley.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 13th the Parliament agreed that the declaration made by the Duc
      d'Orleans and the Prince should be carried to the King; that the
      remonstrances they had sent to the King should likewise be sent to all the
      sovereign companies of Paris, and to all the Parliaments of the kingdom,
      to invite them also to send a deputation on their own behalf; and that a
      general assembly should be immediately held at the Hotel de Ville, to
      which the Duc d'Orleans and the Prince should be invited to make the same
      declarations as they made to the Parliament; and that, in the meantime,
      the King's declaration against Cardinal Mazarin, and all the decrees
      passed against him, should be put into execution.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 13th of May a councillor of Parliament and captain of his ward,
      having brought his company to the Palace to act as ordinary guard, was
      abandoned by all the burghers that composed it, who said they were not
      created to guard Mazarins.
    </p>
    <p>
      The mob, who at the same time appeared ready enough to murder some of the
      magistrates in the streets, had nothing in their mouths but the names and
      services of the Princes, who next day disowned their humble servants in
      the assemblies of the several courts. Though this conduct gave occasion to
      severe decrees, which the Parliament issued at every turn against the
      seditious, it did not hinder the same Parliament from believing that those
      who disowned the sedition were the authors of it, and consequently did not
      lessen the hatred which many private men conceived against them. Such were
      the various and complicated views every one had concerning the then
      position of affairs, that I wrapped myself up, as one may say, in my great
      dignities, to which I abandoned the hopes of my fortune; and I remember
      one day the President Bellievre telling me that I ought not to be so
      indolent. I answered him: "We are in a great storm, where, methinks, we
      all row against the wind. I have two good oars in my hand, one of which is
      the Cardinal's dignity, and the other the Archiepiscopal. I am not willing
      to break them; and all I have to do now is to support myself."
    </p>
    <p>
      At the same time I had other disquietings of a more private nature.
      Mademoiselle de Chevreuse fell in love with my rival, the Abbe Fouquet.
      Little De Roye, who was a very, pretty German lass at her house, informed
      me of it, and made me amends for the infidelity of the mistress, whose
      choice, to tell you the truth, did not mortify me much, because she had
      nothing but beauty, which cloys when it comes alone. She cared for nobody
      besides him she loved; but as she was never long in love, so neither was
      it long that she was in good temper. She used her cast-off lovers as she
      did her old clothes, which other women lay aside, but she burnt, so that
      her daughters had much ado to save a petticoat, head-dress, gloves, or
      Venice point. And I verily believe that if she could have committed her
      lovers to the flames when she left them off, she would have done it with
      all her heart. Madame her mother, who endeavoured to set her at variance
      with me when she was resolved to unite herself entirely with the Court,
      could not succeed, though she went so far that Madame de Guemenee caused a
      letter to be read to her in my handwriting, whereby I devoted myself body
      and soul to her, as witches give themselves to the devil.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was at that time that Madame de Chevreuse, seeing herself neglected at
      Paris, resolved to retire to Dampierre, where, depending upon what had
      been told her from Court, she hoped to be well received. I gave vent to my
      passion, which, in truth, was not very great, to Mademoiselle de
      Chevreuse, and I took care to have both the mother and daughter
      accompanied out of Paris, quite to Dampierre, by all the nobility and
      gentlemen I had with me.
    </p>
    <p>
      I cannot finish this slight sketch of the condition I was in at Paris
      without acknowledging the debt I owe to the generosity of the Prince de
      Conde, who, finding that a person was come from the Prince de Conti, at
      Bordeaux, with a design to attack me, told him that he would have him
      hanged if he did not go back to his master in two hours' time.
    </p>
    <p>
      Marigny told me, almost at the same time, that, observing the Prince de
      Conde to be very intent upon reading a book, he took the liberty to tell
      him that it must needs be a very choice one, because he took such delight
      in it; and that the Prince answered him, "It is true I am very fond of it,
      for it shows me my faults, which nobody has the courage to tell me." This
      book was entitled "The Right and False Steps of the Prince de Conde and of
      the Cardinal de Retz."
    </p>
    <p>
      There were divers negotiations between the parties, during which Mazarin
      gave himself the pleasure of letting the public see MM. de Rohan, de
      Chavigni, and de Goulas conferring with him, before the King as well as in
      private, at that very instant when the Duc d'Orleans and the Prince de
      Conde said publicly, in the assembly of the Chambers, that it ought to be
      the preliminary of all treaties to have nothing to do with Mazarin. He
      acted a perfect comedy in their presence, pretending to be forcibly
      detained by the King, whom he begged with folded hands to let him return
      to Italy.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 30th of April there was so great a murmuring in Parliament that the
      Duc d'Orleans said they should never see him there again until the
      Cardinal was gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 6th of May the remonstrances of the Parliament and the Chamber of
      Accounts were carried to the King by a large deputation, as were, on the
      7th, those of the Court of Aids and the city. The King's answer to both
      was that he would cause his troops to retire when those of the Princes
      were gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 10th it was resolved that the King's Council should be sent to
      Saint Germain for a further answer touching the removal of Cardinal
      Mazarin from the Court and kingdom, and the armies from the neighbourhood
      of Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 14th there was a great uproar again in the Parliament, where there
      was a confused clamour for taking into consideration the best means for
      hindering the riots and disorders daily committed in the city and in the
      hall of the Palace; upon which the Duc d'Orleans, who was afraid that
      under this pretence the Mazarinists should make the House take some steps
      contrary to their interests, came to the Palace on a sudden, and proposed
      that they should grant him full power.
    </p>
    <p>
      The 29th being the day that the deputies of the Court of Inquiry desired
      the Parliament to consider the ways and means for raising the 150,000
      livres promised to him who should bring Cardinal Mazarin to justice, and
      the Archbishop's Grand Vicar coming up at that moment to the bar of the
      King's Council to confer about the descent of the shrine of Sainte
      Genevieve, a member said, very pleasantly, "We are this day engaged in
      devotion for a double festival: we are appointing processions, and
      contriving how to murder a Cardinal."
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 20th of June the King's answer to the Parliament's remonstrances
      was reported in substance as follows: That though his Majesty was sensible
      that the demand for the removal of Cardinal Mazarin was but a pretence,
      yet, he was willing to grant it after justice was done to the Cardinal's
      honour by such reparations as were due to his innocence, provided the
      Princes would give him good security for the performance of their
      proposals upon the removal of the said Cardinal. That therefore his
      Majesty, desired to know: 1. Whether, in this case, they will renounce all
      leagues and associations with foreign princes? 2. Whether they will not
      form new pretensions? 3. Whether they will come to Court? 4. Whether they
      will dismiss all the foreigners that are in the kingdom? 5. Whether they
      will disband their forces? 6. Whether Bordeaux will return to its duty, as
      well as the Prince de Conti and Madame de Longueville? 7. Whether the
      places which the Prince de Conde has fortified shall be put into the
      condition they were in before the breach?
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans, provoked at these propositions, said that a Son of
      France and a Prince of the blood were never known to have been treated
      like common criminals, and that the declaration which both had made was
      more than sufficient to satisfy the Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 21st it was moved in Parliament that an inventory should be taken
      of what remained of Mazarin's furniture. There having been in the morning
      a great commotion at the Palace, when the President and some others had
      run a risk of being killed by the mob, M. de Beaufort invited his friends
      to meet him in the afternoon in the Palais Royal, and having got together
      four or five thousand beggars, he harangued them as to the obedience which
      they owed to the Parliament. But two or three days after this fine sermon
      of his, the sedition was more violent than ever.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 25th the Princes declared in Parliament that, as soon as the
      Cardinal had departed the kingdom, they would faithfully execute all the
      articles contained in the King's answer, and immediately send deputies to
      complete the rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 4th of July a mob assembled, who forced all that went by to put a
      handful of straw in their hats, upon which the Duc d'Orleans and the
      Prince de Conde went to the Hotel de Ville and convinced the assembly of
      the necessity they were under of defending themselves against Mazarin.
      Upon a trumpeter arriving from his Majesty with orders to adjourn the
      assembly for a week, the people were much incensed, and called out to the
      citizens to unite strictly with the Princes. They fell upon the first
      thing they met in their way, threw stones into the windows of the Hotel de
      Ville, set fire to its gates, and, entering with drawn swords, murdered M.
      Le Gras, the Master of Requests, and the Master of Accounts, and twenty or
      thirty citizens perished in the tumult. There was a general consternation
      all over the city; all the shops were shut in an instant, and in some
      parts they set up barricades to stop the rioters, who had almost overrun
      the whole town. It was observed that the appearance of the Duchesse de
      Beaufort prevailed more with the mob in causing them to disperse than the
      exposing of the Host by the cure of St. John's.
    </p>
    <p>
      The late riot had such an effect on the Parliament that the President
      Mortier and many of the councillors kept away from the public assemblies
      for fear, notwithstanding they were enjoined, by a special decree, to come
      and take their places. The magistrates, for the same reason, did not go to
      the Hotel de Ville.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 18th the deputies of Parliament being ordered to follow the King to
      Pontoise, the House passed a decree for their immediate return to
      Parliament, and the Prince de Conde and the Duke de Beaufort brought them
      into town with twelve hundred horse.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court in the meantime passed decrees of Council, annulling those of
      the Parliament and the transactions of the assembly at the Hotel de Ville.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 20th the Parliament declared by a decree that, the King being
      prisoner to Cardinal Mazarin, the Duc d'Orleans should be desired to take
      upon him the office of Lieutenant-General of his Majesty, and the Prince
      to take upon him the command of the army as long as Mazarin should
      continue in the kingdom, and that a copy of the said decree should be sent
      to all the Parliaments of the kingdom, who should be desired to publish
      the like; but not one complied, except that of Bordeaux. Nor was the Duke
      better obeyed by the several governors of the provinces, for but one
      vouchsafed him an answer when he acquainted them with his new dignity, the
      Court having put them in mind of their duty by an order of Council,
      published to annul that of the Parliament for establishing the said
      lieutenancy; and in Paris itself the Duke's authority was despised, for
      two wretches having been condemned for setting fire to the Hotel de Ville,
      the citizens who were ordered to take charge of the execution refused to
      obey.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 24th it was ordered that a general assembly should be held at the
      Hotel de Ville, to consider the ways and means to raise money for
      supporting the troops, and that the statues at Mazarin's palace should be
      sold to make up the sum set upon the Cardinal's head.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 29th it was resolved in the Hotel de Ville to raise 800,000 livres
      for augmenting his Royal Highness's troops, and to exhort all the great
      towns of the kingdom to unite with the metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 6th of August the King sent a declaration signifying the removal of
      the Parliament to Pontoise. There was a great commotion in the House, who
      agreed not to register it till the Cardinal had left the kingdom. As for
      the Parliament of Pontoise, which consisted of but fourteen officers, with
      three Presidents at their head, who had a little before retired in
      disguise from Paris, they made remonstrances likewise to the King for
      removing Cardinal Mazarin. The King granted what was desired of him, and
      that upon the solicitations of that honest, disinterested minister, who
      withdrew from Court to Bouillon. This comedy, so unworthy the dignity of a
      king, was accompanied with circumstances that rendered it still more
      ridiculous:&mdash;The two Parliaments fulminated severe decrees against
      one another, and that of Paris made an order that whosoever sat in the
      assembly at Pontoise should be struck off the register.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the same time that of Pontoise registered the King's declaration, which
      contained an injunction to the Parliament of Paris, the Chamber of
      Accounts, and the Court of Aids, that, since Cardinal Mazarin was removed,
      they should now lay down their arms on condition that his Majesty would
      grant an amnesty, remove his troops from about Paris, withdraw those that
      were in Guienne, allow a free and safe passage to the Spanish troops, and
      give the Princes permission to send to his Majesty persons to confer with
      his ministers concerning what remained to be adjusted. This same
      Parliament resolved to return their thanks to his Majesty for removing
      Cardinal Mazarin, and most humbly to entreat the King to return to his
      good city of Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 26th they also registered the King's amnesty, or royal pardon,
      granted to all that had taken up arms against him, but with such
      restrictions that very few could think themselves safe by it.
    </p>
    <p>
      The King acquainted the Duc d'Orleans that he wondered that, since Mazarin
      was removed, he should delay, according to his own declaration and
      promise, to lay down his arms, to renounce all associations and treaties,
      and to cause the foreign troops to withdraw; and that when this was done,
      those deputies that should come to his Majesty from him should be very
      welcome.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 3d of September the Parliament resolved that their deputies should
      wait upon the King with their thanks for removing Cardinal Mazarin, and to
      beseech his Majesty to return to Paris; that the Duc d'Orleans and the
      Prince de Conde should be desired to write to the King and assure him they
      would lay down their arms as soon as his Majesty would be pleased to send
      the passports for the safe retreat of the foreigners, together with an
      amnesty in due form, registered in all the Parliaments of the kingdom; and
      that his Majesty should be petitioned to receive the deputies of the
      Princes.
    </p>
    <p>
      Pray indulge me with a short pause here to consider the scandalous arts
      which ministers palliate with the name and sacred word of a great King,
      and with which the most august Parliament of the kingdom&mdash;the Court
      of Peers&mdash;expose themselves to ridicule by such manifest
      inconsistencies as are more becoming the levity of a college than the
      majesty of a senate. In short, persons are not sensible of what they do in
      these State paroxysms, which savour somewhat of frenzy. I knew in those
      days some very honest men, who were so fully satisfied of the justice of
      the cause of the Princes that, upon occasion, they would have laid down
      their lives for it; and I also knew some eminently virtuous and
      disinterested men who would as gladly have been martyrs for the Court. The
      ambition of great men manages such dispositions just as it suits their own
      interests; they help to blind the rest of mankind, and they even become
      blinder themselves than other people.
    </p>
    <p>
      Honest M. de Fontenay, who had been twice ambassador at Rome, a man of
      great experience and good sense and a hearty well-wisher to his country,
      daily condoled with me on the lethargy into which the intestine divisions
      had lulled the best citizens and patriots. We saw the Spanish colours and
      standards displayed upon the Pont-Neuf; the yellow sashes of Lorraine
      appeared at Paris with the same liberty as the Isabelles and blue ones.
      People were so accustomed to these spectacles and to the news of
      provinces, towns, and battles lost, that they were become insolent and
      stupid. Several of my friends blamed my inactivity, and desired me to
      bestir myself. They bid me save the kingdom, save the city, or else I
      should fall from the greatest love to the greatest hatred of the people.
      The Frondeurs suspected me of favouring Mazarin's party, and the Mazarins
      thought I was too partial to the Frondeurs.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was touched to the quick with a pathetic speech made to me by M. de
      Fontenay. "You see," said he, "that Mazarin, like a Jack-in-the-bog, plays
      at Bo-peep; but you see that, whether he appears or disappears, the wire
      by which the puppet is drawn on or off the stage is the royal authority,
      which is not likely to be broken by the measures now on foot. Abundance of
      those that appear to be his greatest opponents would be very sorry to see
      him crushed; many others would be very glad to see him get off; not one
      endeavours to ruin him entirely. You may get clear of the difficulty that
      embarrasses you by a door which opens into a field of honour and liberty.
      Paris, whose archbishop you are, groans under a heavy load. The Parliament
      there is but a mere phantom, and the Hotel de Ville a desert. The Duc
      d'Orleans and the Prince have no more authority than what the rascally mob
      is pleased to allow them. The Spaniards, Germans, and Lorrainers are in
      the suburbs laying waste the very gardens. You that have rescued them more
      than once, and are their pastor, have been forced to keep guards in your
      own house for three weeks. And you know that at this day your friends are
      under great apprehension if they see you in the streets without arms. Do
      you count it a slight thing to put an end to all these miseries? And will
      you neglect the only opportunity Providence puts a into your hands to
      obtain the honour of it? Take your clergy with you to Compiegne, thank the
      King for removing Mazarin, and beg his Majesty to return to Paris. Keep up
      a good correspondence with those bodies who have no other design but the
      common good, who are already almost all your particular friends, and who
      look upon you as their head by reason of your dignity. And if the King
      actually returns to the city, the people of Paris will be obliged to you
      for it; if you meet with a refusal, you will have still their
      acknowledgments for your good intention. If you can get the Duc d'Orleans
      to join with you, you will save the realm; for I am persuaded that if he
      knew how to act his part in this juncture it would be in his power to
      bring the King back to Paris and to prevent Mazarin ever returning again.
      You are a cardinal; you are Archbishop of Paris; you have the good-will of
      the public, and are but thirty-seven years old: Save the city, save the
      kingdom."
    </p>
    <p>
      In short, the Duc d'Orleans approved of my scheme, and ordered me to
      convene a general assembly of the ecclesiastical communities, and to get
      deputies chosen out of them all, and go with them to Court, there to
      present the deputation, which should request the King to give peace to his
      people and return to his good city of Paris. I was also to endeavour by
      the aid of my friends to induce the other corporate bodies of the city to
      do likewise. I was to tell the Queen that she could not but be sensible
      that the Duke was in good earnest for peace, which the public engagements
      he was under to oppose Mazarin had not suffered him to conclude, or even
      to propose, while the Cardinal continued at Court; that he renounced all
      private views and interests with relation to himself or friends; that he
      desired nothing but the security of the public; and that after he had the
      satisfaction of seeing the King at the Louvre he would then with joy
      retire to Blois, fully resolved to live in peace and prepare for eternity.
    </p>
    <p>
      I set out immediately with the deputies of all the ecclesiastical bodies
      of Paris, nearly two hundred gentlemen, accompanied by fifty men of the
      Duke's Guards. The number of my attendants gave such umbrage at Court,
      where it was ridiculously exaggerated, that the Queen sent me word I
      should only have accommodation for eighty horses, whereas I had no less
      than one hundred and twelve for the coaches alone. If I had known as much
      when I went as I heard after I returned, I should have hesitated about
      going, for I was told that some moved for arresting me, and others for
      killing me. However, the Queen received me very well; the King gave me the
      cardinal's hat and a public audience.
    </p>
    <p>
      I told the Queen, in a private audience, that I was not come only as a
      deputy from the Church of Paris, but that I had another commission which I
      valued much more, because I took it to be more for her service than the
      other,&mdash;that of an envoy from the Duc d'Orleans, who had charged me
      to assure her Majesty that he was resolved to serve her effectually and
      without delay, as he had promised by a note under his own hand, which I
      then pulled out of my pocket. The Queen expressed a great deal of joy, and
      said, "I knew very well, M. le Cardinal, that you would at last give some
      particular marks of your affection for me."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Queen told me that she thanked the Duke, and was very much obliged to
      him; that she hoped and desired he would contribute towards making the
      necessary dispositions for the King's return to Paris, and that she would
      not take one step but in concert with him. At the same time I heard that
      the Queen spoke disdainfully of me, whom she dreaded, to my enemies at
      Court; pretended that I had owned Mazarin was an honest man, and ridiculed
      me for the expense I had put myself to on the journey, which, indeed, was
      immense for so short a time, because I kept seven open tables, and spent
      800 crowns a day.
    </p>
    <p>
      When I returned to Paris I was received with incredible applause. The King
      also came thither on the 21st of October, and was welcomed by the
      acclamations of the people. The Queen received me with wonderful respect,
      and bade the King embrace me, as one to whom he chiefly owed his return to
      Paris; but orders were sent to the Duc d'Orleans to retire next morning to
      Limours.
    </p>
    <p>
      When I went to see him, he was panic-struck, and imagined it was only a
      feint to try his temper. He was in an inconceivable agony, and fancied
      that every musket which was let off by way of rejoicing for his Majesty's
      return was fired by the soldiers coming to invest his palace. Every
      messenger that he sent out brought him word that all was quiet, but he
      would believe nobody, and looked continually out of the window to hear if
      the drums were beating the march. At last he took courage to ask me if I
      was firm to him, and after I had assured him of my fidelity he desired
      that, as a proof of my attachment and affection for him, I would be
      reconciled to M. de Beaufort. "With all my heart," said I. Whereupon he
      embraced me, then opened the gallery door by his bedchamber, and out came
      M. de Beaufort, who threw himself about my neck, and said, "Pray ask his
      Royal Highness what I have been saying to him concerning you. I know who
      are honest men. Come on, monsieur, let us drive all the Mazarins away for
      good and all." He endeavoured to show both the necessity and the
      possibility of it, and advised the raising of barricades next morning, by
      break of day, in the market-places.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duc d'Orleans turned to me and said, as they do in Parliament, "Your
      opinion, M. Dean." I replied: "If I must give it as Dean, there never was
      more occasion for the forty hours' prayers than now. I myself stand in
      need of them more than anybody, because I can give no advice but what must
      appear very cruel and be attended with horrid inconveniences. If I should
      advise you to put up with the injurious treatment you undergo, will not
      the public, who always make the worst of everything, have a handle to say
      I betray your interest, and that my advice was but a necessary consequence
      of all those obstacles I threw in the Princes' way? And if I give it as my
      opinion that your Royal Highness should follow the measures which M. de
      Beaufort proposes, shall I not be accounted one who blows hot and cold in
      a breath?&mdash;who is for peace when he thinks to gain his advantages by
      the treaty, but for war when he is not permitted to negotiate?&mdash;one
      who is for destroying Paris with fire and sword, and for carrying the
      flames to the gates of the Louvre by attacking the very person of the
      King? If you obey, you will be responsible to the public for all it may
      suffer afterwards. I am no competent judge of what it may suffer in
      particular; for who can foresee events depending on the caprices of a
      cardinal, on the stormings of Ondedei, the impertinence of the Abbe
      Fouquet, and the violence of Servien? But you will have to answer for all,
      because the public will be persuaded that you might have prevented it. If
      you do not obey, you may go near to overturn the realm."
    </p>
    <p>
      Here the Duke interrupted me eagerly, and said, "This is not to the
      purpose; the question is whether I am in a condition, that is, if it is in
      my power, to disobey."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I believe so," I said; "for I do not see how the Court can oblige you to
      obey, unless the King himself should march to Luxembourg, which would be a
      matter of great importance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nay," said M. de Beaufort, "it would be impossible."
    </p>
    <p>
      I then perceived that the Duke began to think so too, for it fitted his
      humour, as he could not endure taking any pains, and, upon this
      supposition, resolved to stay at home with his arms folded. I said:
    </p>
    <p>
      "You are able to do anything to-night and tomorrow morning, but I cannot
      answer how it may be in the evening."
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Beaufort, who thought that I was going to argue for the offensive,
      fell in roundly with me to second me; but I stopped him short by telling
      him he mistook my meaning.
    </p>
    <p>
      "I shall never presume," said I, "to give advice in the condition things
      are now in. The Duke himself must decide, and even propose, too, and it is
      our business to perform his commands."
    </p>
    <p>
      Then he said, "If I should resolve to brave it out, will you declare for
      me?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yes," I said, "it is what I ought in duty to do. I am attached to your
      service, in which I shall certainly not be wanting, and you need only to
      command me. But I am very much grieved that, considering the present state
      of affairs, an honest man cannot act the honest part, do what he may."
    </p>
    <p>
      The Duke, who was by nature good, but not very tender, could not help
      being moved at what I said; the tears came into his eyes, he embraced me,
      and asked me if I thought he could secure the King's person. I told him
      that nothing was more impossible. I found at length that he was inclined
      to obey, but he bade us keep our friends together in readiness, and to be
      with him at break of day. However, he set out for Limours an hour sooner
      than he had told us, and left word that he had his reasons for so doing,
      which we should know another day, advising us, if possible, to make our
      peace with the Court.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 22d the King held his Bed of Justice, at the Louvre, where he
      published the amnesty, as also an order for reestablishing the Parliament
      at Paris, in which there was a clause forbidding them to meddle with State
      affairs. At the same time he caused a declaration to be published ordering
      MM. de Beaufort, Rohan, Viole, de Thou, Broussel, Portail, Bitaud,
      Croissi, Machaut, Fleury, Martineau, and Perraut to depart the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Court now began to offer me terms of reconciliation. I was desirous
      that as many of my friends as possible should be included; but Caumartin,
      who was in the secret of affairs, told me there were no hopes of procuring
      any advantages for particular persons; that all that could be done was to
      save the ship for another voyage, and that this ship, which was myself,
      could be saved in no other way, in the condition into which our affairs
      were fallen by the Duc d'Orleans's want of resolution, but by launching
      out into the main, and steering towards Rome. "You stand," said he, "as it
      were, on the point of a needle, and if the Court knew their strength they
      would rout you as they do the rest; your courage gives you an air that
      both deceives and disquiets them. Make use of the present opportunity for
      obtaining what may be serviceable to you in your employ at Rome, for the
      Court will deny you nothing."
    </p>
    <p>
      Montresor, hearing of it, said to me afterwards, with an oath, "He is a
      villain who says your Eminence can make your peace honourably without
      making terms for your friends; he who affirms the contrary does it for his
      own private ends." Therefore I refused the offers made me by Servien,
      which were that the King would resign his affairs in Italy to my care, and
      allow me a pension of 50,000 crowns; that I should have 100,000 crowns
      towards paying off my debts, and 50,000 in hand towards furniture; that I
      should continue three years at Rome, and then return to resume my
      functions at Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Princess Palatine told me I ought either to accept or else treat with
      the Cardinal, since all the subalterns were against me. Madame de
      Lesdiguieres advised me to preserve my equanimity and keep within doors,
      adding that the Cardinal, who was impatient to return to Paris, but durst
      not as long as I stayed, would make me a bridge of gold to go out and
      agree to whatever I demanded. Accordingly, I sent my proposals to the
      Cardinal, who was then lurking in Turenne's army upon the frontiers, and
      desired such and such posts for my friends. Meantime Servien and the Abbe
      Fouquet endeavoured to exasperate the Queen by telling her that I was
      continually caballing with the annuitants and officers of the militia; and
      because I refused to go to Parliament, in obedience to the King's orders,
      when he held his Court of Justice there to register the declaration of
      high treason against the Prince de Conde, the Queen was made to believe
      that I was intriguing for the Prince, and therefore resolved to ruin me,
      cost what it would. One officer posted men in a house near Madame de
      Pommereux's, to attack me; another was employed to get intelligence at
      what time of night I was in the habit of visiting her; a third had an
      order, signed by the King, to attack me in the street and bring me off
      dead or alive. An unknown person advised me not to go that day to
      Rambouillet; but I went with two hundred gentlemen, and found a great many
      officers of the Guards, who, whatever were their orders, were in no
      condition to attack me, and received me with reverence; but I blamed
      myself for it afterwards, because it only tended to incense the Court the
      more against me.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon All Saints' Day I preached at Saint Germain, which is the King's
      parish, where their Majesties did me the honour to be present, for which I
      went next day to return them thanks; but finding that the cautions sent me
      from all quarters multiplied very fast, I did not go to the Louvre till
      the 19th of December, when I was arrested in the Queen's antechamber by
      the captain of the Guards then in waiting, who carried me into an
      apartment where the officers of the kitchen brought me dinner, of which I
      ate heartily, to the mortification of the base courtiers, though I did not
      take it kindly to see my pockets turned inside out as if I had been a
      cutpurse. This ceremony, which is not common, was performed by the
      captain; but he found nothing except a letter from the King of England,
      desiring me to try if the Court of Rome would assist him with money. When
      this letter came to be talked of, it was maliciously reported that it came
      from the Protector. I was carried in one of the King's coaches, under
      guard, to Vincennes. As we passed we found at several of the gates a
      battalion of Swiss with their pikes presented towards the city, where
      everybody was quiet, though their sorrow and consternation were visible
      enough. I was afterwards informed, however, that all the butchers in the
      veal market were going to take up arms, and that they might have made
      barricades there with all the ease in the world, only they were restrained
      for fear that I should have paid for their tumult with the loss of my
      life; so that the women remained in tears, and the men stood stock-still
      in a fright. I was confined at Vincennes for a fortnight together, in a
      room as big as a church, without any firing. My guards pilfered my linen,
      apparel, shoes, etc., so that sometimes I was forced to lie in bed for a
      week or ten days together for want of clothes to dress myself. I could not
      but think that such treatment had been ordered by the higher powers on
      purpose to break my heart; but I resolved not to die that way, and though
      my guard said all he could to vex me, I affected to take no notice.
    </p>
    <p>
      The influence of the clergy of Paris obliged the Court to explain itself
      concerning the causes of my imprisonment, by the mouth of the Chancellor,
      who, in the presence of the King and Queen, acquainted them that his
      Majesty had caused me to be arrested for my own good, and to prevent me
      from putting something that I designed into execution. The chapter of
      Notre-Dame had an anthem sung every day for my deliverance. The Sorbonne
      and many of the a religious orders distinguished themselves by declaring
      for me. This general stir obliged the Court to treat me somewhat better
      than at first. They let me have a limited number of books, but no ink and
      paper, and they allowed me a 'valet de chambre' and a physician.
    </p>
    <p>
      During my confinement at Vincennes, which lasted fifteen months, I studied
      both day and night, especially the Latin tongue, on which I perceive one
      cannot bestow too much pains, since it takes in all other studies. I dived
      into the Greek also, and read again the ninth decade of Livy, which I had
      formerly delighted in, and found as pleasant as ever. I composed, in
      imitation of Boetius, a treatise, which I entitled "Consolation de la
      Theologie," in which I proved that every prisoner ought to endeavour to be
      'vinctus in Christo' (in the bonds of Christ), mentioned by Saint Paul. I
      also compiled "Partus Vincennarum," which was a collection of the Acts of
      the Church of Milan for the use of the Church of Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      My guard omitted nothing he could invent to make my life uneasy and
      disturb my studies. One day he came and told me that he had received
      orders from the King to give me an airing on the top of the donjon; and
      when he perceived that I took a pleasure in walking there, he informed me,
      with joy in his looks, that he had orders to the contrary. I told him that
      they were come in good time, for the air, which was too sharp there, had
      made my head ache. Afterwards he offered to take me down into the
      tennis-court to see my guards at play. I desired him to excuse me, because
      I thought the air would be too piercing for me; but he made me go, telling
      me that the King, who took more care of my health than I fancied, had
      ordered that he should give me some exercise. Soon after he desired me to
      excuse him for not bringing me down again, "for reasons," said he, "which
      I must not tell." The truth was, I was so much above these chicaneries
      that I despised them; but I must own that I used to think within myself
      that, in the main, to be a prisoner of State was of all others the most
      afflicting. All the relaxation I had from my studies was to divert myself
      with some rabbits on the top of the donjon, and some pigeons in the
      turrets, for which I was indebted to the continual solicitations of the
      Church of Paris. I had not been a prisoner above nine days when one of my
      guards, while his comrade who watched me was asleep, came and slipped a
      note into my hand from Madame de Pommereux, in which were only these
      words: "Let me have your answer; you may safely trust the bearer." The
      bearer gave me a pencil and a piece of paper, on which I wrote that I had
      received her letter.
    </p>
    <p>
      Notwithstanding that three sergeants and twenty-four Life-guards relieved
      one another every day, our correspondence was not interrupted. Madame de
      Pommereux, M. de Caumartin, and M. de Raqueville wrote me letters twice a
      week constantly about the means to effect my escape, which I attempted
      twice, but in vain.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Abbe Charier, who set out for Rome the day after I was arrested, found
      Pope Innocent incensed to the highest degree, and ready to throw his
      thunder upon the heads of the authors of it. He spoke of it to the French
      Ambassador with great resentment, and sent the Archbishop of Avignon, with
      the title of Nuncio Extraordinary, on purpose to solicit my release. The
      King was in a fury, and forebade the Nuncio to pass Lyons. The Pope told
      the Abbe Charier that he was afraid to expose his and the Church's
      authority to the fury of a madman, and said, "Give me but an army, and I
      will furnish you with a legate." It was a difficult matter indeed to get
      him that army, but not impossible, if those that should have stood my
      friends had not left me in the lurch.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the meantime Noirmoutier and Bussi Lamet wrote a letter to Mazarin,
      declaring they could not help proceeding to extremities if I were detained
      any longer in prison. The Prince de Conde declared he would do anything,
      without exception, which my friends desired, for my liberty, and offered
      to march all the Spanish forces to their assistance; but the misfortune
      was that there was nobody to form the proper schemes; and Noirmoutier, who
      was the most enterprising man of them all, was hindered from action by
      Madame de Chevreuse and De Laigues, who, the Cardinal said, would be
      accountable for the actions of their friends, and that if they fired one
      pistol-shot they must expect what would follow. Therefore Noirmoutier was
      glad to elude all the propositions of the Prince de Conde, and to be
      content with only writing and speaking in my favour, and firing the cannon
      at the drinking of my health.
    </p>
    <p>
      M. de Pradello, who commanded the French and Swiss Guards in the castle,
      came one day to tell me of the happy return of Cardinal Mazarin to Paris,
      and of his magnificent reception at the Hotel de Ville; and he informed me
      that the Cardinal had sent him to assure me of his most humble services,
      and to beg of me to be persuaded that he would forget nothing that might
      be for my service. I made as if I did not heed the compliment, and was for
      talking of something else; but as he pressed me for a direct answer, I
      told him that I should have been ready at the first word to show him my
      acknowledgments were I not persuaded that the duty of a prisoner to the
      King did not permit him to explain himself in anything relating to his
      release, till his Majesty had been graciously pleased to grant it him. He
      understood my meaning, and endeavoured to persuade me to return a more
      civil answer to the Cardinal, which I declined to do.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Cardinal was so pestered with complaints from Rome, and so disturbed
      with the discontent which prevailed in Poitou and Paris, on account of my
      imprisonment, that he sent me an offer of my liberty and great advantages,
      on condition that I would resign the coadjutorship of Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      The solicitations of the chapter of Notre-Dame prevailed on the Court to
      consent that one of their body might be always with me, who, though he
      came gladly for my sake, fell into a deep melancholy. He could not,
      however, be prevailed upon to go out; and being soon after seized with a
      fever, he cut his own throat. My uncle dying soon after, possession was
      taken of the archbishopric in my name by my proxy, and Tellier, who was
      sent to Notre-Dame Church to oppose it on the part of the King, was
      mortified with the thunder of my bulls from Rome. The people were
      surprised to see all the formalities observed to a nicety, at a juncture
      when they thought there was no possibility of observing one. The cures
      waxed warmer than ever, and my friends fanned the flame. The Nuncio,
      thinking himself slighted by the Court, spoke in dignified terms, and
      threatened his censures. A little book was published, showing the
      necessity of shutting up the churches, which aroused the Cardinal's
      apprehensions, and his apprehensions naturally led him into negotiation.
      He amused me with hundreds of fine prospects of church livings,
      governments, etc., and of being restored to the good graces of the King
      and to the strictest friendship with his Prime Minister.
    </p>
    <p>
      I had more liberty than before. They always carried me up to the top of
      the donjon whenever it was fair overhead; but my friends, who did not
      doubt that all the Court wanted was to get some expression from me of my
      inclination to resign, in order to discredit me with the public, charged
      me to guard warily my words, which advice I followed; so that when a
      captain of the Guards came from the King to discourse with me upon this
      head, who, by Mazarin's direction, talked to me more like a captain of the
      Janissaries than like an officer of the most Christian King, I desired
      leave to give him my answer in writing, expressing my contempt for all
      threats and promises, and an inviolable resolution not to give up the
      archbishopric of Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      Next day President Bellievre came to me on the part of the King, with an
      offer of seven abbeys, provided I would quit my archbishopric; but he
      opened his mind to me with entire freedom, and said he could not but think
      what a fool the Sicilian was to send him on such an errand. "Most of your
      friends," said Bellievre, "think that you need only to stand out
      resolutely, and that the Court will be glad to set you at liberty and send
      you to Rome; but it is a horrid mistake, for the Court will be satisfied
      with nothing but your resignation. When I say the Court, I mean Mazarin;
      for the Queen will not bear the thought of giving you your liberty. The
      chief thing that determines Mazarin to think of your liberty is his fear
      of the Nuncio, the chapter, the cures, and the people. But I dare affirm
      that the Nuncio will threaten mightily, but do nothing; the chapter may
      perhaps make remonstrances, but to no purpose; the cures will preach, and
      that is all; the people will clamour, but take up no arms. The consequence
      will be your removal to Brest or Havre-de-Grace, and leaving you in the
      hands of your enemies, who will use you as they please. I know that
      Mazarin is not bloodthirsty, but I tremble to think of what Noailles has
      told you, that they are resolved to make haste and take such methods as
      other States have furnished examples of. You may, perhaps, infer from my
      remarks that I would have you resign. By no means. I have come to tell you
      that if you resign you will do a dishonourable thing, and that it behooves
      you on this occasion to answer the great expectation the world is now in
      on your account, even to the hazarding of your life, and of your liberty,
      which I am persuaded you value more than life itself. Now is the time for
      you to put forward more than ever those maxims for which we have so much
      combated you: 'I dread no poison nor sword! Nothing can hurt me but what
      is within me! It matters not where one dies!' Thus you ought to answer
      those who speak to you about your resignation."
    </p>
    <p>
      I was carried from Vincennes, under guard, to Nantes, where I had numerous
      visits and diversions, and was entertained with a comedy almost every
      night, and the company of the ladies, particularly the charming
      Mademoiselle de La Vergne, who in good truth did not approve of me, either
      because she had no inclination for me, or else because her friends had set
      her against me by telling her of my inconstancy and different amours. I
      endured her cruelty with my natural indifference, and the full liberty
      Marechal de La Meilleraye allowed me with the city ladies gave me
      abundance of comfort; nevertheless I was kept under a very strict guard.
      As I had stipulated with Mazarin that I should have my liberty on
      condition that I would resign my archbishopric at Vincennes, which I knew
      would not be valid, I was surprised to hear that the Pope refused to
      ratify it; because, though it would not have made my resignation a jot
      more binding, yet it would have procured my liberty. I proposed expedients
      to the Holy See by which the Court might do it with honour, but the Pope
      was inflexible. He thought it would damage his reputation to consent to a
      violence so injurious to the whole Church, and said to my friends, who
      begged his consent with tears in their eyes, that he could never consent
      to a resignation extorted from a prisoner by force.
    </p>
    <p>
      After several consultations with my friends how to make my escape, I
      effected it on August the 8th, at five o'clock in the evening. I let
      myself down to the bottom of the bastion, which was forty feet high, with
      a rope, while my valet de chambre treated the guards with as much liquor
      as they could drink. Their attention, was, moreover, taken up with looking
      at a Jacobin friar who happened to be drowned as he was bathing. A
      sentinel, seeing me, was taking up his musket to fire, but dropped it upon
      my threatening to have him hanged; and he said, upon examination, that he
      believed Marechal de La Meilleraye was in concert with me. Two pages who
      were washing themselves, saw me also, and called out, but were not heard.
      My four gentlemen waited for me at the bottom of the ravelin, on pretence
      of watering their horses, so that I was on horseback before the least
      notice was taken; and, having forty fresh horses planted on the road, I
      might have reached Paris very soon if my horse had not fallen and caused
      me to break my shoulder bone, the pain of which was so extreme that I
      nearly fainted several times. Not being able to continue my journey, I was
      lodged, with only one of my gentlemen, in a great haystack, while MM. de
      Brissac and Joly went straight to Beaupreau, to assemble the nobility,
      there, in order to rescue me. I lay hid there for over seven hours in
      inexpressible misery, for the pain from my injury threw me into a fever,
      during which my thirst was much augmented by the smell of the new hay;
      but, though we were by a riverside, we durst not venture out for water,
      because there was nobody to put the stack in order again, which would very
      probably have occasioned suspicion and a search in consequence. We heard
      nothing but horsemen riding by, who, we were afterwards informed, were
      Marechal de La Meilleraye's scouts. About two o'clock in the morning I was
      fetched out of the stack by a Parisian of quality sent by my friend De
      Brissac, and carried on a hand-barrow to a barn, where I was again buried
      alive, as it were, in hay for seven or eight hours, when M. de Brisac and
      his lady came, with fifteen or twenty horse, and carried me to Beaupreau.
      From thence we proceeded, almost in eight of Nantes, to Machecoul, in the
      country of Retz, after having had an encounter with some of Marechal de La
      Meilleraye's guards, when we repulsed them to the very barrier.
    </p>
    <p>
      Marechal de La Meilleraye was so amazed at my escape that he threatened to
      destroy the whole country with fire and sword, for which reason I was an
      unwelcome guest to Madame de Retz and her father, who rallied me very
      uncharitably on my disobedience to the King. We therefore thought fit to
      leave the country, and went aboard a ship for Belle Isle, whence, after a
      very short stay there, we escaped to San Sebastian.
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon my arrival there I sent a letter to the King of Spain requesting
      leave to pass through his dominions to Rome. The messenger was received at
      Court with civilities beyond expression, and sent back next day with the
      present of a gold chain worth 800 crowns. I had also one of the King's
      litters sent me, and an invitation to go to Madrid, but I desired to be
      excused; and though I also refused immense offers if I would but go to
      Flanders and treat with the Prince de Conde, etc., for the service of
      Spain, yet I had a velvet coffer sent me with 40,000 crowns in it, which I
      likewise thought fit to refuse. As I had neither linen nor apparel, either
      for myself or servants, and as the 400 crowns which we got by the sale of
      pilchards on board the barque in which we came from Belle Isle were almost
      all spent, I borrowed 400 crowns of the Baron de Vateville, who commanded
      for the King of Spain in Guipuzcoa, and faithfully repaid him.
    </p>
    <p>
      From San Sebastian I travelled incognito to Tudela, where I was met by the
      King's mule drivers and waited on by the alcade, who left his wand at my
      chamber door and at his, entrance knelt and kissed the hem of my garment.
      From thence I was conducted to Comes by fifty musketeers riding upon
      asses, who were sent me by the Governor of Navarre. At Saragossa I was
      taken for the King of England, and a large number of ladies, in over two
      hundred carriages, came to pay me their respects. Thence I proceeded to
      Vivaros, where I had rich presents from the Governor of Valencia. And
      thence I sailed to Majorca, whose Governor met me with above one hundred
      coaches of the Spanish nobility, and carried me to mass at the Cathedral,
      where I saw thirty or forty ladies of quality of more than common charms;
      and, to speak the truth, the women there in general are of rare beauty,
      having a graceful tincture both of the lily and the rose, and wear a
      head-dress which is exceedingly pretty. The Governor, after having treated
      me with a magnificent dinner under a tent of gold brocade near the
      seaside, carried me to a concert of music in a convent, where I found the
      nuns not inferior in beauty to the ladies of the town. The Governor
      carried me to see his lady, who was as ugly as a witch, and was seated
      under a great canopy sparkling with precious stones, which gave a
      wonderful lustre to about sixty ladies with her, who were the handsomest
      in the whole town. I was reconducted on board my galley with music and a
      discharge of the artillery, and sailed to Port Mahon, and thence through
      the Gulf of Lyons to the canal between Corsica and Sardinia, where our
      ship was very nearly cast away upon a sandbank; but with great difficulty
      we got her off and reached Porto Longone. There we quitted the galley, and
      went by land to Piombino.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <a name="book5" id="book5"></a>
    </p>
    <h1>
      BOOK V.
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I travelled from Piombino to Florence, where I had great honours and vast
      offers from the Grand Duke, though Mazarin had threatened him, in the
      King's name, with a rupture if he granted me passage through his
      dominions; but the Grand Duke sent to desire the Cardinal to let him know
      whether there was any possibility of refusing it without disobliging the
      Pope and the Sacred College. As I was travelling through the Duke's
      country, my mules, being frightened by a clap of thunder, ran with my
      litter into a brook, where I narrowly escaped being drowned.
    </p>
    <p>
      As soon as I arrived at Rome the Pope sent me 4,000 crowns in gold. I was
      immediately informed that a strong faction was formed there against me by
      the Court of France; that the Cardinal d'Est, representative of that
      nation, had terrible orders from the King; and that they were resolved to
      send me packing from Rome, cost what it would. I had my old scruples upon
      me, and said I would die a thousand deaths rather than make resistance;
      but I thought it would be too disrespectful in a cardinal to come so near
      the Pope and to go away without kissing his feet, and I resolved to leave
      the rest to the providence of God.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Pope having ordered his guards to be ready, in case the French faction
      should offer to rise, the Cardinal d'Est was so good as to let me alone.
      His Holiness gave me an audience of four hours, condescended to beg my
      forgiveness for not having acted with more vigour for my liberty; and
      said, with tears in his eyes: "God forgive those who delayed to give me
      timely notice of your imprisonment, and who made us believe that you had
      been guilty, of an attempt upon the King's person. The Sacred College took
      fire at the news; but the French Ambassador being at liberty, to give out
      what he chose, because nobody, appeared here on your part to contradict
      him, Mazarin extinguished it, and half the Sacred College thought you were
      abandoned by the whole kingdom." In short, the Pope was so well disposed
      to me that he thought of adopting me as his nephew, but he sickened soon
      after and died.
    </p>
    <p>
      The conclave chose Cardinal Chigi (who was called Alexander VIII.) for his
      successor, in whose election I had such a share that when it came to my
      turn, at the adoration of the cardinals, to kiss his feet, he embraced me,
      saying, "Signor Cardinal de Retz, 'ecce opus manuum tuarum'" ("Behold the
      work of your own hands"). I went home accompanied with one hundred and
      twenty coaches of gentlemen, who did not doubt that I should govern the
      Pontificate.
    </p>
    <p>
      My friends in France, who commonly judge of other nations by their own,
      imagined that a persecuted cardinal might, nay, ought to live like a
      private man even at Rome, and advised me not to spend much money, because
      my revenues in France were all seized, and said that such exemplary
      modesty would have an admirable effect upon the clergy of Paris. But
      Cardinal Chigi talked after another manner: "When you are reestablished in
      your see you may live as you please, because you will be in a country
      where everybody will know what you are or are not able to do. You are now
      at Rome, where your enemies say every day that you have lost your credit
      in France, and you are under a necessity to make it appear that what they
      say is false. You are not a hermit, but a cardinal, and a cardinal, too,
      of the better rank. At Rome there are many people who love to tread upon
      men when they are down. Dear sir, take care you do not fall, and do but
      consider what a figure you will make in the streets with six vergers
      attending you; otherwise every pitiful citizen of Paris that meets you
      will be apt to jostle you, in order to make his court to the Cardinal
      d'Est. You ought not to have come to Rome if you had not had resolution
      and the means to support your dignity. I presume you do not make it a
      point of Christian humility to debase yourself. And let me tell you that
      I, the poor Cardinal Chigi, who have but 5,000 crowns revenue, and am one
      of the poorest in the College, and though I am sure to meet nobody in the
      streets who will be wanting in the respect due to the purple, yet I cannot
      go to my functions without four coaches in livery to attend me."
    </p>
    <p>
      Therefore I hired a palace, kept a great table, and entertained fourscore
      persons in liveries. The Cardinal d'Est, the very day after the creation
      of the new Pope, forbade all Frenchmen to give me the way in the streets,
      and charged the superiors of the French churches not to admit me. M. de
      Lionne, who resided here as a sort of private secretary to Mazarin, was so
      nettled because the new Pope had granted me the pallium for my
      archbishopric that he told him the King would never own me, insinuated
      that there would be a schism among the clergy of France, and that the Pope
      must expect to be excluded from the congress for a general peace. This so
      frightened his Holiness that he made a million of mean excuses, and said,
      with tears in his eyes, that I had imposed upon him, and that he would
      take the first opportunity to do the King justice. Upon this M. de Lionne
      sent word to the Cardinal that he hoped very shortly to acquaint him of my
      being prisoner in the Castle of Saint Angelo, and that the Cardinal would
      be no better off for his Majesty's amnesty, because the Pope said none but
      he could absolve or condemn cardinals. Meantime all my domestics who were
      subjects of the King of France were ordered to quit my service, on pain of
      being treated as rebels and traitors. I could have little hope of
      protection from the Pope, for he was become quite another man, never spoke
      one word of truth, and continually amused himself with mere trifles,
      insomuch that one day he proposed a reward for whoever found out a Latin
      word for "calash," and spent seven or eight days in examining whether
      "mosco" came from "muses," or "musts" from "mosco." All his piety
      consisted in assuming a serious air at church, in which, nevertheless,
      there was a great mixture of pride, for he was vain to the last degree,
      and envious of everybody. The work entitled "Sindicato di Alexandro VII."
      gives an account of his luxury and of several pasquinades against the said
      Pope, particularly that one day Marforio asking Pasquin what he had said
      to the cardinals upon his death-bed, Pasquin answered, "Maxima de aeipso,
      plurima de parentibus, parva de principibus, turpia de cardinalibus, pauca
      de Ecclesia, de Deo nihil." ("He said fine things of himself, a great many
      things of his kindred, some things of princes, nothing good of the
      cardinals, but little of the Church, and nothing at all of God"). His
      Holiness, in a consistory, laid claim to the merit of the conversion of
      Christina, Queen of Sweden, though everybody knew to the contrary, and
      that she had abjured heresy a year and a half before she came to Rome.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having heard that Bussiere, who is Chamberlain to the Ambassadors at Rome,
      had declared I should not have a place in Saint Louis's church on the
      festival of that saint, I was not discouraged from going thither. At my
      entrance he snatched the holy water stick from the cure just as he was
      going to sprinkle me; nevertheless, I took my place, and was resolved to
      keep up the status and dignity of a French cardinal. This was my condition
      at Rome, where it was my fate to be a refugee, persecuted by my King and
      abused by the Pope. All my revenues were seized, and the French bankers
      forbidden to serve me; nay, those who had an inclination to assist me were
      forced to promise they would not. Two of the Abbe Fouquet's bastards were
      publicly maintained out of my revenues, and no means were left untried to
      hinder the farmers from relieving me, or my creditors from harassing me
      with vexatious and expensive lawsuits.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      THE ETEXT EDITORS BOOKMARKS
    </h3>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

Always judged of actions by men, and never men by their actions
Always to sacrifice the little affairs to the greater
Arms which are not tempered by laws quickly become anarchy
Associating patience with activity
Assurrance often supplies the room of good sense
Blindness that make authority to consist only in force
Bounty, which, though very often secret, had the louder echo
Buckingham had been in love with three Queens
By the means of a hundred pistoles down, and vast promises
Civil war as not powerful enough to conclude a peace
Civil war is one of those complicated diseases
Clergy always great examples of slavish servitude
Confounded the most weighty with the most trifling
Contempt&mdash;the most dangerous disease of any State
Dangerous to refuse presents from one's superiors
Distinguished between bad and worse, good and better
Fading flowers, which are fragrant to-day and offensive tomorrow
False glory and false modesty
Fool in adversity and a knave in prosperity
Fools yield only when they cannot help it
Good news should be employed in providing against bad
He weighed everything, but fixed on nothing
He knew how to put a good gloss upon his failings
He had not a long view of what was beyond his reach
Help to blind the rest of mankind, and they even become blinder
His ideas were infinitely above his capacity
His wit was far inferior to his courage
Impossible for her to live without being in love with somebody
Inconvenience of popularity
Insinuation is of more service than that of persuasion
Is there a greater in the world than heading a party?
Kinds of fear only to be removed by higher degrees of terror
Laws without the protection of arms sink into contempt
Man that supposed everybody had a back door
Maxims showed not great regard for virtue
Mazarin: embezzling some nine millions of the public money
Men of irresolution are apt to catch at all overtures
More ambitious than was consistent with morality
My utmost to save other souls, though I took no care of my own
Need of caution in what we say to our friends
Neither capable of governing nor being governed
Never had woman more contempt for scruples and ceremonies
Nothing is so subject to delusion as piety
Oftener deceived by distrusting than by being overcredulous
One piece of bad news seldom comes singly
Only way to acquire them is to show that we do not value them
Passed for the author of events of which I was only the prophet
Poverty so well became him
Power commonly keeps above ridicule
Pretended to a great deal more wit than came to his share
Queen was adored much more for her troubles than for her merit
She had nothing but beauty, which cloys when it comes alone
So indiscreet as to boast of his successful amours
Strongest may safely promise to the weaker what he thinks fit
The subdivision of parties is generally the ruin of all
The wisest fool he ever saw in his life
Those who carry more sail than ballast
Thought he always stood in need of apologies
Transitory honour is mere smoke
Treated him as she did her petticoat
Useful man in a faction because of his wonderful complacency
Vanity to love to be esteemed the first author of things
Verily believed he was really the man which he affected to be
Virtue for a man to confess a fault than not to commit one
We are far more moved at the hearing of old stories
Weakening and changing the laws of the land
Who imagine the head of a party to be their master
Whose vivacity supplied the want of judgment
Wisdom in affairs of moment is nothing without courage
With a design to do good, he did evil
Yet he gave more than he promised
You must know that, with us Princes, words go for nothing

</pre>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Memoirs of Cardinal de Retz,
Complete, by Jean Francois Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARDINAL DE RETZ ***

***** This file should be named 3846-h.htm or 3846-h.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
        http://www.gutenberg.net/3/8/4/3846/

Produced by David Widger

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.



*** START: FULL LICENSE ***

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg.net/license).


Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works

1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.  See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.

1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.

1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
     License.  You must require such a user to return or
     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
     Project Gutenberg-tm works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
     of receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.

1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.


Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.


Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at http://pglaf.org

For additional contact information:
     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
     Chief Executive and Director
     gbnewby@pglaf.org


Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
donations.  To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate


Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.

Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.


Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.


Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:

     http://www.gutenberg.net

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.


</pre>
  </body>
</html>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-07-17 18:17:17 +0000