The Duc d’Orleans turned to me and said, as they do in Parliament, “Your opinion, M. Dean.”  I replied:  “If I must give it as Dean, there never was more occasion for the forty hours’ prayers than now.  I myself stand in need of them more than anybody, because I can give no advice but what must appear very cruel and be attended with horrid inconveniences.  If I should advise you to put up with the injurious treatment you undergo, will not the public, who always make the worst of everything, have a handle to say I betray your interest, and that my advice was but a necessary consequence of all those obstacles I threw in the Princes’ way?  And if I give it as my opinion that your Royal Highness should follow the measures which M. de Beaufort proposes, shall I not be accounted one who blows hot and cold in a breath?—­who is for peace when he thinks to gain his advantages by the treaty, but for war when he is not permitted to negotiate?—­one who is for destroying Paris with fire and sword, and for carrying the flames to the gates of the Louvre by attacking the very person of the King?  If you obey, you will be responsible to the public for all it may suffer afterwards.  I am no competent judge of what it may suffer in particular; for who can foresee events depending on the caprices of a cardinal, on the stormings of Ondedei, the impertinence of the Abbe Fouquet, and the violence of Servien?  But you will have to answer for all, because the public will be persuaded that you might have prevented it.  If you do not obey, you may go near to overturn the realm.”

Here the Duke interrupted me eagerly, and said, “This is not to the purpose; the question is whether I am in a condition, that is, if it is in my power, to disobey.”

“I believe so,” I said; “for I do not see how the Court can oblige you to obey, unless the King himself should march to Luxembourg, which would be a matter of great importance.”

“Nay,” said M. de Beaufort, “it would be impossible.”

I then perceived that the Duke began to think so too, for it fitted his humour, as he could not endure taking any pains, and, upon this supposition, resolved to stay at home with his arms folded.  I said: 

“You are able to do anything to-night and tomorrow morning, but I cannot answer how it may be in the evening.”

M. de Beaufort, who thought that I was going to argue for the offensive, fell in roundly with me to second me; but I stopped him short by telling him he mistook my meaning.

“I shall never presume,” said I, “to give advice in the condition things are now in.  The Duke himself must decide, and even propose, too, and it is our business to perform his commands.”

Then he said, “If I should resolve to brave it out, will you declare for me?”

“Yes,” I said, “it is what I ought in duty to do.  I am attached to your service, in which I shall certainly not be wanting, and you need only to command me.  But I am very much grieved that, considering the present state of affairs, an honest man cannot act the honest part, do what he may.”