mercy, the one for her husband, and the other for her father.  The monarch burst into tears as he saw them at his feet.  He could not forget that the mourners thus prostrate before him were the mother and the sister of the woman whom he still loved, and as he raised them from the ground he said soothingly:  “You shall see that I am indulgent—­I will convene a council this very day.  Go, and pray to God to inspire me with right resolutions, while I proceed in my turn to mass with the same intention.” [290]

The King kept his word.  In the afternoon the Council again met, when he charged them upon their consciences to deliberate seriously before they condemned two of their fellow-creatures to an ignominious death; but they remained firm in their decision, declaring that by extending pardon to crimes of so serious a nature as those upon which judgment had just been passed, nothing but danger and disorder could ensue; and that after the execution of the Duc de Biron, individuals convicted of the same offence could not be suffered to escape with impunity without endangering by such misplaced clemency the safety of the kingdom, while a revocation of the sentence now pronounced would moreover tend to bring contempt upon the judicial authority.

Henry listened, but he would not yield; and before the close of the meeting, contrary to the advice of all his Council, he announced that he commuted the pain of death in both instances to perpetual imprisonment, and revoked the sentence that condemned the Marquise to the cloister, which he superseded by an order of exile to her own estate of Verneuil.

To express the disappointment and mortification of the Queen when this decision was announced to her would be impossible, as she instantly felt that any further attempt to destroy the influence of the favourite must prove ineffectual.  She no longer exhibited any violence, but became a prey to the deepest melancholy, weeping where she had formerly reproached, and seeking her only consolation in prayer and in the society of her chosen friends.  Upon Henry, however, the effect of his extraordinary and ill-judged leniency was far different.  Although mercy, and even indulgence, had been extended towards the Marquise without eliciting one word either of entreaty or of acknowledgment, he felt convinced that so marked an exhibition of his favour must be recompensed by a return of affection on her part; and thus he continued to participate in the gaieties of the Court with a zest which was strangely contrasted by the gloom and sadness of his royal consort, and even derived amusement from the epigrams and satires which were circulated at his expense among the people.