our good understanding, for I love thee affectionately and sincerely.  I am resolved to marry her to my nephew the Prince of Conde, and keep her near my family.  That shall be the consolation and the support of the old age which is coming upon me.  I shall give my nephew, who is young and loves hunting ten thousand times better than women, a hundred thousand francs a year to pass his time, and I want no other favor from her but her affection, without looking for anything more.”

Thoroughly astounded and put out as he was, Bassompierre reflected that it was, so far as he was concerned, “an amour modified by marriage,” and that it would be better to give way to the king with a good grace:  and, “I withdraw, sir,” he said, on very good terms as regarded Mdlle. de Montmorency as well as himself.  The king embraced him, wept, promised to love him dearly, saw him again in the evening in company with Mdlle. de Montmorency, who knew nothing, and conversed a long while with the young princess.  When she retired, perceiving that Bassompierre was watching her, she shrugged her shoulders, as if to hint to him what the king had said to her.  “I lie not,” says Bassompierre:  “that single action pierced me to the heart; I spent two days in tormenting myself like one possessed, without sleeping, drinking, or eating.”  Two or three days afterwards the Prince of Conde, announced that he intended to marry Mdlle. de Montmorency.  The court and the city talked of nothing but this romance and the betrothal which immediately followed.

Henry IV. was fifty-six.  He had been given to gallantry all his life; and he had never been faithful or exacting in his attachments.  He was not one of those on whom ridicule fastens as fair prey; but he was so under the dominion of his new passion that the young Princess of Conde, who had at first exclaimed, “Jesus, my God, he is mad!” began to fancy to herself that she would be queen before long.  Mary de Medici became jealous and uneasy.  She determined to take her precautions, and demanded to be crowned before the king set out on the campaign which, it was said, he was about to commence against Austria in accordance with his grand design and in concert with the Protestant princes of Germany, his allies.  The Prince of Conde had a fit of jealousy; he carried off his wife first into Picardy; and then to Brussels, where he left her.  Henry IV., in respect, first, of going to see her, then of getting her to come back, then of threatening to go after her out of France, took some wild and puerile steps, which, being coincident with his warlike announcements and preparations, caused some strange language to be used, and were injurious to his personal weight as well as to his government’s character for steadiness.  Sully grew impatient and uneasy.  Mary de’ Medici was insisting strongly upon being crowned.  The prospect of this coronation was displeasing to Henry IV., and he did not conceal it.  “Hey! my friend,” he said to