anynoise would be heard by the Prince de Montpensier whose rooms lookedout onto the same flower-garden, and that all the subsequent disorderwould fall on the head of the one he loved most. He calmed himself andled the Duc to the presence of the Princess. Although the Princesssignaled that she would like him to stay in the room during theinterview, he was unwilling to do so, and retired to a little passagewhich ran alongside the Princess's apartment, a prey to the saddestthoughts which could afflict a disappointed lover.
Now, although they had made very little noise while crossing thebridge, the Prince de Montpensier was awake and heard it. He made oneof his servants get up and go to see what it was. The servant put hishead out of the window and in the darkness he could make out that thedrawbridge was lowered. He told his master who then ordered him to gointo the park and find out what was going on. A moment later he got uphimself, being disturbed by what he thought he had heard, that is,footsteps on the bridge leading to his wife's quarters.
As he was going towards the little passage where the Comte was waiting,the Princess who was somewhat embarrassed at being alone with the Ducde Guise, asked the latter several times to come into the room. Herefused to do so and as she continued to press him and as he wasfuriously angry he answered her so loudly that he was heard by thePrince de Montpensier, but so indistinctly that the Prince heard only aman's voice without being able to recognise it as that of the Comte.
These events would have infuriated a character more placid and lessjealous than the Prince de Montpensier. He hurled himself against thedoor, calling for it to be opened, and cruelly surprising the Princess,the Duc de Guise and the Comte de Chabannes. This last, hearing thePrince's voice, saw immediately that it was impossible to prevent himfrom believing that there was someone in his wife's room, and that hewas in such a state that if he found that it was the Duc de Guise hemight kill him before the eyes of the Princess and that even her lifemight be at risk. He decided, in an act of extraordinary generosity, tosacrifice himself to save a successful rival and an ungrateful mistress.
While the Prince was battering on the door, he went to the Duc, who hadno idea what to do, put him in the care of the woman who had arrangedhis entry by the bridge and told her to show him the way out. Scarcelyhad he left when the Prince having broken down the door entered theroom like a man possessed. However when he saw only the Comte deChabannes, motionless, leaning on a table with a look of infinitesadness on his face, he stopped short. The astonishment of finding hisbest friend alone at night in his wife's room deprived him of speech.The Princess had collapsed onto some cushions and never perhaps hasfate put three people in a more unhappy position. At last the Princemade an attempt to make sense of the chaos before his eyes. Headdressed the Comte in a tone of voice which still had somefriendliness, "What is this I see?" he said, "Is it possible that a manI love so dearly has chosen among all other women to seduce my wife?And you, Madame," he said, turning to his wife, "Was it not enough todeprive me of your love and my honour without depriving me of the oneman who could have consoled me in such circumstances? Answer me, one ofyou," he said to them, "And explain this affair, which I cannot believeis what it seems." The Princess was incapable of replying and the Comteopened his mouth once or twice but was unable to speak.
"You see me as a criminal," he said at last. "And unworthy of thefriendship you have shown me; but the situation is not what you maythink it is. I am more unhappy than you and more despairing. I do notknow how to tell you more than that. My death would avenge you, and ifyou were to kill me now you would be doing me a favour." These words,spoken with an air of the deepest sorrow, and in a manner whichdeclared his innocence instead of enlightening the Prince confirmed himin the view that something mysterious was going on which he did notunderstand. His unhappiness was increased by this uncertainty. "Kill meyourself," he said. "Or give me some explanation of your words for Ican understand nothing. You owe it to my friendship, you owe it to myrestraint, for anyone but me would have already taken your life toavenge such an affront."
"The appearances are wholly misleading," interrupted the Comte.
"Ah! It is too much. I must be avenged and clear things up later," saidthe Prince, advancing towards the Comte like a man carried away byrage. The Princess, fearing bloodshed, (which was not possible as herhusband did not have a sword) placed herself between the two of themand fell fainting at her husband's feet. The Prince was even moreaffected by this than he was by the calmness of the Comte when heconfronted him, and as if he could no longer bear the sight of thosetwo people who had caused him such distress, he turned away and fell onhis wife's bed, overcome by grief. The Comte de Chabannes, filled withremorse at having abused the friendship of which he had had so manymarks, and believing that he could never atone for what he had done,left the room abruptly and passing through the Princess's apartmentwhere he found all the doors open, he went down to the courtyard. Hehad a horse brought to him and rode off into the country led only byhis feelings of hopelessness. The Prince de Montpensier, seeing thathis wife did not recover from her faint, left her to her women andretired to his own quarters greatly disturbed.
The Duc de Guise having got out of the park, hardly knowing what he wasdoing being in such a state of turmoil, put several leagues betweenhimself and Champigny, but could go no further without news of thePrincess. He stopped in the forest and sent his squire to find out fromthe Comte de Chabannes what had happened. The squire found no trace ofChabannes but was told by others that the Princess was seriously ill.The Duc's inquietude was increased by what the squire had told him, butas he could do nothing he was constrained to go back to his uncle's inorder not to raise suspicions by too long an absence.
The Duc's squire had been correct when he said that the Princess wasseriously ill, for as soon as her women had put her to bed she wasseized by a violent fever with horrible phantasies, so that by thesecond day her life was despaired of. The Prince pretended that hehimself was ill so that no one should be surprised that he did notvisit his wife's room. The order which he received to return to theCourt, to which all the Catholic princes were being recalled inpreparation for the massacre of the Huguenots, relieved him of hisembarrassment. He went off to Paris without knowing what he had to hopeor fear about his wife's illness. He had hardly arrived there when theassault on the Huguenots was signalised by the attack on admiral deChatillon. Two days later came the disgraceful massacre, now so wellknown throughout Europe.
The poor Comte de Chabannes who had gone to hide himself away in one ofthe outer suburbs of Paris to abandon himself to his misery was caughtup in the ruin of the Huguenots. The people to whose house he hadretired, having recognised him, and having recalled that he had oncebeen suspected of being of that persuasion, murdered him on the samenight which was fatal to so many people. The next day the Prince deMontpensier, who was in that area on duty, passed along the streetwhere the body of the Comte lay. He was at first shocked by thispitiful sight and, recalling his past friendship, was grieved; but thenthe memory of the offence, which he believed the Comte had committed,made him feel pleased that he had been avenged by the hand of chance.
The Duc de Guise who had used the opportunity of the massacre to takeample revenge for the death of his father, gradually took less and lessinterest in the condition of the Princess of Montpensier; and havingmet the Marquise de Noirmoutier, a woman of wit and beauty, and one whopromised more than the Princess de Montpensier, he attached himself toher, an attachment which lasted a lifetime.
The Princess's illness reached a crisis and then began to remit. Sherecovered her senses and was somewhat relieved by the absence of herhusband. She was expected to live, but her health recovered very slowlybecause of her low spirits, which were further depressed by therealisation that she had received no news of the Duc de Guise duringall her illness. She asked her women if they had not seen anyone, ifthey had not had any letters, and finding that there had been nothing,she saw herself as the most wretched of women, one who had risked allfor a man who had abandoned her. A fr
esh blow was the news of the deathof the Comte de Chabannes, which her husband made sure she heard aboutas soon as possible. The ingratitude of the Duc de Guise made her feeleven more deeply the loss of a man whose fidelity she knew so well.These disappointments weighed heavily upon her and reduced her to astate as serious as that from which she had recently recovered. Madamede Noirmoutier was a woman who took as much care to publicise heraffairs as others do to conceal them. Her relations with the Duc deGuise were so open that, even though far away and ill, the Princessheard so much about it that she was left in no doubt. This was thefinal straw. She had lost the regard of her husband, the heart of herlover, and the most loyal of her friends. She took to her bed, and diednot long after in the flower of her youth. She was one of the loveliestof women and could have been one of the