In February, 1652, I was made a cardinal, and was to receive the hat, as all French cardinals do, from the King.  My enemies, who thought to ruin my credit with the Duc d’Orleans, gave out that I had been obliged to the Court for my dignity, attacked me in form as a secret favourer of Mazarin, and, while their emissaries gained over such of the dregs of the people as they could corrupt by money, they were supported by all the intrigues of the Cabinet.  But the Duke, who knew better, only laughed at them; so that they confirmed me in his good opinion, instead of supplanting me, because in cases of slander every reflection that does not hurt the person attacked does him service.  I said to the Duke that I wondered he was not wearied out with the silly stories that were told him every day against me, since they all harped upon one string; but he said, “Do you take no account of the pleasure one takes every morning in hearing how wicked men are under the cloak of religious zeal, and every night how silly they are under the mask of politicians?”

The servants of the Prince de Conde gave out such stories against me among the populace as were likely to have done me much more mischief.  They had a pack of brawling fellows in their pay who were more troublesome to me now than formerly, when they did not dare to appear before the numerous retinue of gentlemen and liverymen that accompanied me, for as I had not yet had the hat, I was obliged, wherever I went, to go incognito, according to the rules of the ceremonial.  Those fellows said that I had betrayed the Duc d’Orleans, and that they would be the death of me.  I told the Duke, who was afraid they would murder me, that he should soon see how little those hired mobs ought to be regarded.  He offered me his guards, but though Marechal d’Estampes fell on his knees in my way to stop me, I went down-stairs with only two persons in company, and made directly towards the ruffians, demanding who was their leader.  Upon which a beggarly fellow, with an old yellow feather in his hat, answered me, insolently, “I am.”  Then I called out to the guards at the gate, saying, “Let me have this rascal hanged up at these grates.”  Thereupon he made me a very low bow, and said that he did not mean to affront me; that he only came with his comrades to tell me of the report that I designed to carry the Duc d’Orleans to Court, and reconcile him with Mazarin; that they did not believe it; that they were at my service, and ready to venture their lives for me, provided I would but promise them to be always an honest Frondeur.

The Duc d’Orleans took such delight in conversing with me that, on De Goulas, one of his secretaries, telling him that all the foreign officers took mighty umbrage at it, he pulled him up very sharply, and said, “Go to the devil, you and your foreign officers.  If they were as good Frondeurs as Cardinal de Retz, they would be at their posts, and not tippling in the taverns of Paris.”  There was such a