court-yard.  The chancellor, followed by the whole body, went to receive the princess. . . .  As soon as she entered the room, she went off-hand, according to her habit, and sat down in her chair; and, at the same moment, without any order given us, we also sat down.  The princess, seeing that we were at some little distance from the table, told us that we could draw up close to it.  There was some little drawing up, but not as if it were a dinner-party. . . .  Several pieces were read; and then the director, who was M. de la Chambre, told the queen that the ordinary exercise of the society was to work at the Dictionary, and that, if it were agreeable to her Majesty, a sheet should be read.  ‘By all means,’ said she.  M. de Mezeray, accordingly, read the word Jeux, under which, amongst other proverbial expressions, there was, ’Jeux de princes, qui ne plaisent qu’a ceux qui les font.’ (Princes’ jokes, which amuse only those who make them.) She burst out laughing.  The word, which was in fair copy, was finished.  It would have been better to read a word which had to be weeded, because then we should all have spoken; but people were taken by surprise—­the French always are. . . .  After about an hour, the princess rose, made a courtesy to the company, and went away as she had come.  Here is really what passed at this famous interview, which, no doubt, does great honor to the Academy.—­The Duke of Anjou talks of coming to it, and the zealous are quite transported with this bit of glory.” [OEuvres diverses de Patru, t. ii. p. 512.]

Queen Christina returned the next year and passed some time at Fontainebleau.  It was there, in a gallery that King Louis Philippe caused to be turned into apartments, which M. Guizot at one time occupied, that she had her first equerry, Monaldeschi, whom she accused of having betrayed her, assassinated almost before her own eyes; and she considered it astonishing, and very bad taste, that the court of France should be shocked at such an execution.  “This barbarous princess,” says Madame de Motteville, “after so cruel an action as that, remained in her room laughing and chatting as easily as if she had done something of no consequence or very praiseworthy.  The queen-mother, a perfect Christian, who had met with so many enemies whom she might have punished, but who had received from her nothing but marks of kindness, was scandalized by it.  The king and Monsieur blamed her, and the minister, who was not a cruel man, was astounded.”

The queen-mother had other reasons for being less satisfied than she had been at the first trip of Queen Christina of Sweden.  The young king testified much inclination for Mary de Mancini, Cardinal Mazarin’s niece, a bold and impassioned creature, whose sister Olympia had already found favor in his eyes before her marriage with the Count of Soissons.  The eldest of all had married the Duke of Mercceur, son of the Duke of Vendome; the other two were destined