Madam de Cleves kneeled at her bedside, and, very luckily for her, withher face from the light: "You know," said the Queen, "how desirous wehave been to find out what had caused so great a change in the Duke deNemours; I believe I know it, and it is what will surprise you; he isdesperately in love with, and as much beloved by, one of the finestladies of the Court." It is easy to imagine the grief Madam de Clevesfelt upon hearing these words, which she could not apply to herself,since she thought nobody knew anything of her passion for the Duke; "Isee nothing extraordinary in that," replied she, "considering how youngand handsome a man the Duke de Nemours is." "No," replied theQueen-Dauphin, "there is nothing extraordinary in it; but what willsurprise you is, that this lady, who is in love with the Duke deNemours, has never given him any mark of it, and that the fear she wasin lest she should not always be mistress of her passion, has made herconfess it to her husband, that he may take her away from Court; and itis the Duke de Nemours himself who has related what I tell you."
If Madam de Cleves was grieved at first through the thought that shehad no concern in this adventure, the Queen-Dauphin's last words threwher into an agony, by making it certain she had too much in it; shecould not answer, but continued leaning her head on the bed; meanwhilethe Queen went on, and was so intent on what she was saying, that shetook no notice of her embarrassment. When Madam de Cleves was a littlecome to herself, "This story, Madam," says she, "does not seem veryprobable to me, and I should be glad to know who told it you." "It wasMadam de Martigues," replied the Queen-Dauphin, "and she heard it fromthe Viscount de Chartres; you know the Viscount is in love with her; heentrusted this matter to her as a secret, and he was told it by theDuke de Nemours himself; it is true the Duke did not tell the lady'sname, nor acknowledge that he was the person she was in love with, butthe Viscount makes no manner of question of it." When theQueen-Dauphin had done speaking, somebody came up to the bed; Madam deCleves was so placed that she could not see who it was, but she waspresently convinced, when the Queen-Dauphin cried out with an air ofgaiety and surprise, "Here he is himself, I'll ask him what there is init." Madam de Cleves knew very well it was the Duke de Nemours,without turning herself, as it really was; upon which she went uphastily to the Queen-Dauphin, and told her softly, that she ought to becautious of speaking to him of this adventure, which he had entrustedto the Viscount de Chartres as a secret, and that it was a thing whichmight create a quarrel between them. "You are too wise," said theQueen-Dauphin smiling, and turned to the Duke de Nemours. He wasdressed for the evening assembly, and taking up the discourse with thatgrace which was natural to him, "I believe, Madam," says he, "I mayventure to think you were speaking of me as I came in, that you had adesign to ask me something, and that Madam de Cleves is against it.""It is true," replied the Queen-Dauphin, "but I shall not be socomplaisant to her on this occasion as I was used to be; I would knowof you, whether a story I have been told is true, and whether you arenot the person who is in love with, and beloved by a lady of the Court,who endeavours to conceal her passion from you, and has confessed it toher husband."
The concern and confusion Madam de Cleves was in was above all that canbe imagined, and if death itself could have drawn her out of thiscondition, she would have gladly embraced it; but the Duke de Nemourswas yet more embarrassed if possible: the discourse of theQueen-Dauphin, by whom he had reason to believe he was not hated, inthe presence of Madam de Cleves, who was confided in by her more thananybody of the Court, and who confided more in her, threw him into suchconfusion and extravagance of thought, that it was impossible for himto be master of his countenance: the concern he saw Madam de Cleves inthrough his fault, and the thought of having given her just cause tohate him, so shocked him he could not speak a word. The Queen-Dauphin,seeing how thunderstruck she was, "Look upon him, look upon him," saidshe to Madam de Cleves, "and judge if this adventure be not his own."
In the meantime the Duke de Nemours, finding of what importance it wasto him to extricate himself out of so dangerous a difficulty, recoveredhimself from his first surprise, and became at once master of his witand looks. "I acknowledge, Madam," said he, "it is impossible to bemore surprised and concerned than I was at the treachery of theViscount de Chartres, in relating an adventure of a friend of mine,which I had in confidence imparted to him. I know how to be revengedof him," continued he, smiling with a calm air, which removed thesuspicions the Queen-Dauphin had entertained of him: "He has entrustedme with things of no very small importance; but I don't know, Madam,why you do me the honour to make me a party in this affair. TheViscount can't say I am concerned in it, for I told him the contrary; Imay very well be taken to be a man in love, but I cannot believe,Madam, you will think me of the number of those who are loved again."The Duke was glad to say anything to the Queen-Dauphin, which alludedto the inclination he had expressed for her formerly, in order todivert her thoughts from the subject in question. She imagined sheunderstood well enough the drift of what he said, but without makingany answer to it, she continued to rally him upon the embarrassment hewas in. "I was concerned, Madam," said he, "for the interest of myfriend, and on account of the just reproaches he might make me forhaving told a secret which is dearer to him than life. He hasnevertheless entrusted me but with one half of it, and has not told methe name of the person he loves; all I know is, that he's the mostdeeply in love of any man in the world, and has the most reason tocomplain." "Do you think he has reason to complain," replied theQueen-Dauphin, "when he is loved again?" "Do you believe he is,Madam," replied he, "and that a person who had a real passion coulddiscover it to her husband? That lady, doubtless, is not acquaintedwith love, and has mistaken for it a slight acknowledgment of thefondness her lover had for her. My friend can't flatter himself withthe lent hopes; but, unfortunate as he is, he thinks himself happy atleast in having made her afraid of falling in love with him, and hewould not change his condition for that of the happiest lover in theworld." "Your friend has a passion very easy to be satisfied," saidthe Queen-Dauphin, "and I begin to believe it is not yourself you arespeaking of; I am almost," continued she, "of the opinion of Madam deCleves, who maintains that this story cannot be true." "I don't reallybelieve it can be true," answered Madam de Cleves, who had been silenthitherto; "and though it were possible to be true, how should it havebeen known? It is very unlikely that a woman, capable of soextraordinary a resolution, would have the weakness to publish it; andsurely her husband would not have told it neither, or he must be ahusband very unworthy to have been dealt with in so generous a manner."The Duke de Nemours, who perceived the suspicions Madam de Cleves hadof her husband, was glad to confirm her in them, knowing he was themost formidable rival he had to overcome. "Jealousy," said he, "and acuriosity perhaps of knowing more than a wife has thought fit todiscover, may make a husband do a great many imprudent things."
Madam de Cleves was put to the last proof of her power and courage, andnot being able to endure the conversation any longer, she was going tosay she was not well, when by good fortune for her the Duchess ofValentinois came in, and told the Queen-Dauphin that the King was justcoming; the Queen-Dauphin went into the closet to dress herself, andthe Duke de Nemours came up to Madam de Cleves as she was followingher. "I would give my life, Madam," said he, "to have a moment'sconversation with you; but though I have a world of important things tosay to you, I think nothing is more so, than to entreat you to believe,that if I have said anything in which the Queen-Dauphin may seemconcerned, I did it for reasons which do not relate to her." Madam deCleves pretended not to hear him, and left him without giving him alook, and went towards the King, who was just come in. As there wereabundance of people there, she trod upon her gown, and made a falsestep, which served her as an excuse to go out of a place she had notthe power to stay in, and so pretending to have received some hurt shewent home.
Monsieur de Cleves came to the Louvre, and was surprised not to findhis wife there; they told him of the accident that had befallen her,and he went immediately
home to enquire after her; he found her in bed,and perceived her hurt was not considerable. When he had been some timewith her, he found her so excessive melancholy that he was surprised atit; "What ails you, Madam?" says he; "you seem to have some other griefthan that which you complain of." "I feel the most sensible grief Ican ever experience," answered she; "what use have you made of thatextraordinary, or rather foolish confidence which I placed in you? Didnot I deserve to have my secret kept? and though I had not deserved it,did not your own interest engage you to it? Should your curiosity toknow a name it was not reasonable for me to tell you have obliged youto make a confidant to assist you in the discovery? Nothing but thatcuriosity could have made you guilty of so cruel an indiscretion theconsequences of it are as bad as they possibly can be. This adventureis known, and I have been told it by those who are not aware that I amprincipally concerned in it." "What do you say, Madam?" answered he;"you accuse me of having told what passed between you and me, and youinform me that the thing is known; I don't go about to clear myselffrom this charge, you can't think me guilty of it; without doubt youhave applied to yourself what was told you of some other." "Ah! Sir,"replied she, "the world has not an adventure like mine, there is notanother woman capable of such a thing. The story I have heard couldnot have been invented by chance; nobody could imagine any like it; anaction of this nature never entered any thoughts but mine. TheQueen-Dauphin has just told me the story; she had it from the Viscountde Chartres, and the Viscount from the Duke de Nemours." "The Duke deNemours!" cried Monsieur de Cleves, like a man transported anddesperate: "How! does the Duke de Nemours know that you are in lovewith him, and that I am acquainted with it?" "You are always forsingling out the Duke de Nemours rather than any other," replied she;"I have told you I will never answer you concerning your suspicions: Iam ignorant whether the Duke de Nemours knows the part I have in thisadventure, and that which you have ascribed to him; but he told it tothe Viscount de Chartres, and said he had it from one of his friends,who did not name the lady: this friend of the Duke de Nemours mustneeds be one of yours, whom you entrusted the secret to, in order toclear up your suspicions." "Can one have a friend in the world, inwhom one would repose such a confidence," replied Monsieur de Cleves,"and would a man clear his suspicions at the price of informing anotherwith what one would wish to conceal from oneself? Think rather, Madam,to whom you have spoken; it is more probable this secret should haveescaped from you than from me; you was not able alone to support thetrouble you found yourself in, and you endeavoured to comfort yourselfby complaining to some confidant who has betrayed you."
"Do not wholly destroy me," cried she, "and be not so hard-hearted asto accuse me of a fault you have committed yourself: can you suspect meof it? and do you think, because I was capable of informing you of thismatter, I was therefore capable of informing another?"
The confession which Madam de Cleves had made to her husband was sogreat a mark of her sincerity, and she so strongly denied that she hadentrusted it to any other, that Monsieur de Cleves did not know what tothink. On the other hand he was sure he had never said anything of it;it was a thing that could not have been guessed, and yet it was known;it must therefore come from one of them two; but what grieved him mostwas to know that this secret was in the hands of somebody else, andthat in all probability it would be soon divulged.
Madam de Cleves thought much after the same manner; she found itequally impossible that her husband should, or should not have spokenof it. What the Duke de Nemours had said to her, that curiosity mightmake a husband do indiscreet things, seemed so justly applicable toMonsieur de Cleves's condition, that she could not think he said it bychance, and the probability of this made her conclude that Monsieur deCleves had abused the confidence she had placed in him. They were sotaken up, the one and the other, with their respective thoughts, thatthey continued silent a great while; and when they broke from thissilence, they only repeated the same things they had already said veryoften; their hearts and affections grew more and more estranged fromeach other.
It is easy to imagine how they passed the night; Monsieur de Clevescould no longer sustain the misfortune of seeing a woman whom he adoredin love with another; he grew quite heartless, and thought he hadreason to be so in an affair where his honour and reputation were sodeeply wounded: he knew not what to think of his wife, and was at aloss what conduct he should prescribe to her, or what he should followhimself; he saw nothing on all sides but precipices and rocks; at last,after having been long tossed to and fro in suspense, he considered hewas soon to set out for Spain, and resolved to do nothing which mightincrease the suspicion or knowledge of his unfortunate condition. Hewent to his wife, and told her that what they had to do was not todebate between themselves who had discovered the secret; but to make itappear that the story which was got abroad was a business in which shehad no concern; that it depended upon her to convince the Duke deNemours and others of it; that she had nothing to do but to behaveherself to him with that coldness and reserve which she ought to havefor a man who professed love to her; that by this proceeding she wouldeasily remove the opinion he entertained of her being in love with him;and therefore she needed not to trouble herself as to what he mighthitherto have thought, since if for the future she discovered noweakness, his former thoughts would vanish of themselves; and thatespecially she ought to frequent the Louvre and the assemblies as usual.
Having said this, Monsieur de Cleves left his wife without waiting heranswer; she thought what he said very reasonable, and the resentmentshe had against the Duke de Nemours made her believe she should be ableto comply with it with a great deal of ease; but it seemed a hard taskto her to appear at the marriage with that freedom and tranquillity ofspirit as the occasion required. Nevertheless as she was to carry theQueen-Dauphin's train, and had been distinguished with that honour inpreference to a great many other Princesses, it was impossible toexcuse herself from it without making a great deal of noise and puttingpeople upon enquiring into the reasons of it. She resolved thereforeto do her utmost, and employed the rest of the day in preparing herselffor it, and in endeavouring to forget the thoughts that gave her somuch uneasiness; and to this purpose she locked herself up in hercloset. Of all her griefs the most violent was that she had reason tocomplain of the Duke de Nemours, and could find no excuse to urge inhis favour; she could not doubt but he had related this adventure tothe Viscount de Chartres; he had owned it himself, nor could she anymore doubt from his manner of speaking of it, but that he knew theadventure related to her; how could she excuse so great an imprudence?and what was become of that extreme discretion which she had so muchadmired in this Prince? "He was discreet," said she, "while he wasunhappy; but the thought of being happy, though on uncertain grounds,has put an end to his discretion he could not consider that he wasbeloved, without desiring to have it known; he said everything he couldsay; I never acknowledged it was he I was in love with; he suspectedit, and has declared his suspicions; if he had been sure of it, hemight have acted as he has; I was to blame for thinking him a mancapable of concealing what flattered his vanity; and yet it is for thisman, whom I thought so different from other men, that I am become likeother women, who was so unlike them before. I have lost the heart andesteem of a husband who ought to have been my happiness; I shall soonbe looked upon by all the world as a person led away by an idle andviolent passion he for whom I entertain this passion is no longerignorant of it; and it was to avoid these misfortunes that I hazardedmy quiet, and even my life." These sad reflections were followed by atorrent of tears; but however great her grief was, she plainlyperceived she should be able to support it, were she but satisfied inthe Duke de Nemours.
The Duke was no less uneasy than she; the indiscretion he had beenguilty of in telling what he did to the Viscount de Chartres, and themischievous consequences of it, vexed him to the heart; he could notrepresent to himself the affliction and sorrow he had seen Madam deCleves in without being pierced with anguish; he was inconsolable forhaving s
aid things to her about this adventure, which, though gallantenough in themselves, seemed on this occasion too gross and impolite,since they gave Madam de Cleves to understand he was not ignorant thatshe was the woman who had that violent passion, and that he was theobject of it. It was before the utmost of his wishes to have aconversation with her, but now he found he ought rather to fear thandesire it. "What should I say to her!" says he; "should I go todiscover further to her what I have made her too sensible of already!Shall I tell how I know she loves me; I, who have never dared to say Iloved her? Shall I begin with speaking openly of my passion, that shemay see my hopes have inspired me with boldness? Can I even think ofapproaching her, and of giving her the trouble to endure my sight?Which way could I justify myself? I have no excuse, I am unworthy ofthe least regard from Madam de Cleves, and I even despair of her everlooking upon me: I have given her by my own fault better means ofdefending herself against me than any she was searching for, andperhaps searching for to no purpose. I lose by my imprudence the gloryand happiness of being loved by the most beautiful and deserving ladyin the world; but if I had lost this happiness, without involving herin the most extreme grief and sufferings at the same time, I shouldhave had some comfort; for at this moment I am more sensible of theharm I have done her, than of that I have done myself in forfeiting herfavour."
The Duke de Nemours continued turning the same thoughts over and over,and tormenting himself a great while; the desire he had to speak toMadam de Cleves came constantly into his mind; he thought of the meansto do it; he thought of writing to her; but at last he found,considering the fault he had committed and the temper she was in, hisbest way was to show her a profound respect by his affliction and hissilence, to let her see he durst not present himself before her, and towait for what time, chance, and the inclination she had for him mightproduce to his advantage. He resolved also not to reproach theViscount de Chartres for his unfaithfulness, for fear of confirming hissuspicions.
The preparations for the espousals and marriage of Madame on the nextday so entirely took up the thoughts of the Court, that Madam de Clevesand the Duke de Nemours easily concealed from the public their griefand uneasiness. The Queen-Dauphin spoke but slightly to Madam deCleves of the conversation they had had with the Duke de Nemours; andMonsieur de Cleves industriously shunned speaking to his wife of whatwas past; so that she did not find herself under so much embarrassmentas she had imagined.
The espousals were solemnised at the Louvre; and after the feast andball all the Royal family went to lie at the Bishop's Palace, accordingto custom. In the morning, the Duke of Alva, who always had appearedvery plainly dressed, put on a habit of cloth of gold, mixed withflame-colour, yellow and black, all covered over with jewels, and worea close crown on his head. The Prince of Orange very richly dressedalso, with his liveries, and all the Spaniards with theirs, came toattend the Duke of Alva from the Hotel de Villeroy where he lodged, andset out, marching four by four, till they came to the Bishop's Palace.As soon as he was arrived, they went in order to the Church; the Kingled Madame, who wore also a close crown, her train being borne byMademoiselles de Montpensier and Longueville; the Queen came next, butwithout a crown; after her followed the Queen-Dauphin, Madame theKing's sister, the Duchess of Loraine, and the Queen of Navarre, theirtrains being home by the Princesses; the Queens and the Princesses wereall of them attended with their maids of honour, who were richlydressed in the same colour which they wore themselves; so that it wasknown by the colour of their habits whose maids they were: they mountedthe place that was prepared in the Church, and there the marriageceremonies were performed; they returned afterwards to dine at theBishop's Palace, and went from thence about five o'clock to the Palacewhere the feast was, and where the Parliament, the Sovereign Courts,and the Corporation of the City were desired to assist. The King, theQueens, the Princes and Princesses sat at the marble table in the greathall of the Palace; the Duke of Alva sat near the new Queen of Spain,below the steps of the marble table, and at the King's right hand was atable for the ambassadors, the archbishops, and the Knights of theOrder, and on the other side one for the Parliament.
The Duke of Guise, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold frieze, servedthe King as Great Chamberlain; the Prince of Conde as Steward of theHousehold, and the Duke de Nemours as Cup-bearer. After the tables wereremoved the ball began, and was interrupted by interludes and a greatdeal of extraordinary machinery; then the ball was resumed, and aftermidnight the King and the whole Court returned to the Louvre. Howeverfull of grief Madam de Cleves was, she appeared in the eyes of allbeholders, and particularly in those of the Duke de Nemours,incomparably beautiful. He durst not speak to her, though the hurry ofthe ceremony gave him frequent opportunities; but he expressed so muchsorrow and so respectful a fear of approaching her, that she no longerthought him to blame, though he had said nothing in his justificationhis conduct was the same the following days, and wrought the sameeffect on the heart of Madam de Cleves.
At last the day of the tournament came; the Queens were placed in thegalleries that were prepared for them; the four champions appeared atthe end of the lists with a number of horses and liveries, the mostmagnificent sight that ever was seen in France.
The King's colours were white and black, which he always wore in honourof the Duchess of Valentinois, who was a widow. The Duke of Ferraraand his retinue had yellow and red. Monsieur de Guise's carnation andwhite. It was not known at first for what reason he wore thosecolours, but it was soon remembered that they were the colours of abeautiful young lady whom he had been in love with, while she was amaid, and whom he yet loved though he durst not show it. The Duke deNemours had yellow and black; why he had them could not be found out:Madam de Cleves only knew the reason of it; she remembered to have saidbefore him she loved yellow, and that she was sorry her complexion didnot suit that colour. As for the Duke, he thought he might take thatcolour without any indiscretion, since not being worn by Madam deCleves it could not be suspected to be hers.
The four champions showed the greatest address that can be imagined;though the King was the best horseman in his kingdom, it was hard tosay which of them most excelled. The Duke de Nemours had a grace inall his actions which might have inclined to his favour persons lessinterested than Madam de Cleves. She no sooner saw him appear at theend of the lists, but her heart felt uncommon emotions, and everycourse he made she could scarce hide her joy when he had successfullyfinished his career.
In the evening, when all was almost over, and the company ready tobreak up, so it was for the misfortune of the State, that the Kingwould needs break another lance; he sent orders to the Count deMontgomery, who was a very dextrous combatant, to appear in the lists.The Count begged the King to excuse him, and alleged all the reasonsfor it he could think of; but the King, almost angry, sent him word heabsolutely commanded him to do it. The Queen conjured the King not torun any more, told him he had performed so well that he ought to besatisfied, and desired him to go with her to her apartments; he madeanswer, it was for her sake that he would run again; and entered thebarrier; she sent the Duke of Savoy to him to entreat him a second timeto return, but to no purpose; he ran; the lances were broke, and asplinter of the Count de Montgomery's lance hit the King's eye, andstuck there. The King fell; his gentlemen and Monsieur de Montmorency,who was one of the Mareschals of the field, ran to him; they wereastonished to see him wounded, but the King was not at alldisheartened; he said, that it was but a slight hurt, and that heforgave the Count de Montgomery. One may imagine what sorrow andaffliction so fatal an accident occasioned on a day set apart to mirthand joy. The King was carried to bed, and the surgeons having examinedhis wound found it very considerable. The Constable immediately calledto mind the prediction which had been told the King, that he should bekilled in single fight; and he made no doubt but the prediction wouldbe now accomplished. The King of Spain, who was then at Brussels, beingadvertised of this accident, sent his physician, who was a man of greatreputation, but that
physician judged the King past hope.
A Court so divided, and filled with so many opposite interests, couldnot but be in great agitation on the breaking out of so grand an event;nevertheless all things were kept quiet, and nothing was seen but ageneral anxiety for the King's health. The Queens, the Princes andPrincesses hardly ever went out of his anti-chamber.
Madam de Cleves, knowing that she was obliged to be there, that sheshould see there the Duke de Nemours, and that she could not concealfrom her husband the disorder she should be in upon seeing him, andbeing sensible also that the mere presence of that Prince would justifyhim in her eyes and destroy all her resolutions, thought proper tofeign herself ill. The Court was too busy to give attention to herconduct, or to enquire whether her illness was real or counterfeit; herhusband alone was able to come at the truth of the matter, but she wasnot at all averse to his knowing it. Thus she continued at home,altogether heedless of the great change that was soon expected, andfull of her own thoughts, which she was at full liberty to give herselfup to. Everyone went to Court to enquire after the King's health, andMonsieur de Cleves came home at certain times to give her an account ofit; he behaved himself to her in the same manner he used to do, exceptwhen they were alone, and then there appeared something of coldness andreserve: he had not spoke to her again concerning what had passed, norhad she power, nor did she think it convenient to resume the discourseof it.
The Duke de Nemours, who had waited for an opportunity of speaking toMadam de Cleves, was surprised and afflicted not to have had so much asthe pleasure to see her. The King's illness increased so much, thatthe seventh day he was given over by the physicians; he received thenews of the certainty of his death with an uncommon firmness of mind;which was the more to be admired, considering that he lost his life byso unfortunate an accident, that he died in the flower of his age,happy, adored by his people, and beloved by a mistress he wasdesperately in love with. The evening before his death he causedMadame his sister to be married to the Duke of Savoy without ceremony.One may judge what condition the Duchess of Valentinois was in; theQueen would not permit her to see the King, but sent to demand of herthe King's signets, and the jewels of the crown which she had in hercustody. The Duchess enquired if the King was dead, and beinganswered, "No"; "I have then as yet no other matter," said she, "andnobody can oblige me to restore what he has trusted in my hands." Assoon as the King expired at Chateau de Toumelles, the Duke of Ferrara,the Duke of Guise, and the Duke de Nemours conducted the Queen-Mother,the New King and the Queen-Consort to the Louvre. The Duke de Nemoursled the Queen-Mother. As they began to march, she stepped back alittle, and told the Queen her daughter-in-law, it was her place to gofirst; but it was easy to see, that there was more of spleen thandecorum in this compliment.
IV
The Queen-mother was now wholly governed by the Cardinal of Loraine;the Viscount de Chartres had no interest with her, and the passion hehad for Madam de Martigues and for liberty hindered him from feelingthis loss as it deserved to be felt. The Cardinal, during the ten days'illness of the King, was at leisure to form his designs, and lead theQueen into resolutions agreeable to what he had projected; so that theKing was no sooner dead but the Queen ordered the Constable to stay atTournelles with the corpse of the deceased King in order to perform theusual ceremonies. This commission kept him at a distance and out ofthe scene of action for this reason the Constable dispatched a courierto the King of Navarre, to hasten him to Court that they might jointheir interest to oppose the great rise of the House of Guise. Thecommand of the Army was given to the Duke of Guise and the care of thefinances to the Cardinal of Loraine. The Duchess of Valentinois wasdriven from Court; the Cardinal de Tournon, the Constable's declaredenemy, and the Chancellor Olivier, the declared enemy of the Duchess ofValentinois, were both recalled. In a word, the complexion of theCourt was entirely changed; the Duke of Guise took the same rank as thePrinces of the blood, in carrying the King's mantle at the funeralceremonies: He and his brothers carried all before them at Court, notonly by reason of the Cardinal's power with the Queen-Mother, butbecause she thought it in her power to remove them should they give herumbrage; whereas she could not so easily remove the Constable, who wassupported by the Princes of the blood.
When the ceremonial of the mourning was over, the Constable came to theLouvre, and was very coldly received by the King; he desired to speakwith him in private, but the King called for Messieurs de Guise, andtold him before them, that he advised him to live at ease; that thefinances and the command of the Army were disposed of, and that when hehad occasion for his advice, he would send for him to Court. The Queenreceived him in a yet colder manner than the King, and she evenreproached him for having told the late King, that his children by herdid not resemble him. The King of Navarre arrived, and was no betterreceived; the Prince of Conde, more impatient than his brother,complained aloud, but to no purpose: he was removed from Court, underpretence of being sent to Flanders to sign the ratification of thepeace. They showed the King of Navarre a forged letter from the Kingof Spain, which charged him with a design of seizing that King'sfortresses; they put him in fear for his dominions, and made him take aresolution to go to Bearn; the Queen furnished him with an opportunity,by appointing him to conduct Madam Elizabeth, and obliged him to setout before her, so that there remained nobody at Court that couldbalance the power of the House of Guise.
Though it was a mortifying circumstance for Monsieur de Cleves not toconduct Madam Elizabeth, yet he could not complain of it, by reason ofthe greatness of the person preferred before him; he regretted the lossof this employment not so much on account of the honour he should havereceived from it, as because it would have given him an opportunity ofremoving his wife from Court without the appearance of design in it.