and assurances they received, the advisers of the crown thought no longer of anything but getting speedily rid of the presence of the estates, so as to be free from the trouble of maintaining the discussion with them.  The deputies saw through the device; their speeches were stifled, and the necessity of replying was eluded.  “My lord chancellor,” said they, at an interview on the 2d of March, 1484, “if we are not to have a hearing, why are we here?  Why have you summoned us?  Let us withdraw.  If you behave thus, you do not require our presence.  We did not at all expect to see the fruits of our vigils, and the decisions adopted after so much trouble by so illustrious an assembly rejected so carelessly.”  The complaints were not always so temperate.  A theologian, whom Masselin quotes without giving his name, “a bold and fiery partisan of the people,” says he, added these almost insulting words:  “As soon as our consent had been obtained for raising the money, there is no doubt but that we have been cajoled, that everything has been treated with contempt, the demands set down in our memorials, our final resolutions, and the limits we fixed.  Speak we of the money.  On this point, our decisions have been conformed to only so far as to tell us, ’This impost shall no longer be called talliage; it shall be a free grant.’  Is it in words, pray, and not in things, that our labor and the well-being of the state consist?  Verily, we would rather still call this impost talliage, and even blackmail (maltote), or give it a still viler name, if there be any, than see it increasing immeasurably and crushing the people.  The curse of God and the execration of men upon those whose deeds and plots have caused such woes!  They are the most dangerous foes of the people and of the commonwealth.”  “The theologian burned with a desire to continue,” adds Masselin; “but though he had not wandered far from the truth, many deputies chid him and constrained him to be silent. . . .  Already lethargy had fallen upon the most notable amongst us; glutted with favors and promises, they no longer possessed that ardor of will which had animated them at first; when we were prosecuting our business, they remained motionless at home; when we spoke before them, they held their peace or added but a few feeble words.  We were wasting our time.”

On the 12th of March, 1484, the deputies from Normandy, twenty-five in number, happened to hold a meeting at Montils-les-Tours.  The Bishop of Coutances told them that there was no occasion for the estates to hold any more meetings; that it would be enough if each of the six sections appointed three or four delegates to follow the course of affairs; and that, moreover, the compensation granted to all the deputies of the estates would cease on the 14th of March, and after that would be granted only to their delegates.  This compensation had already, amongst the estates, been the subject of a long discussion.  The clergy