The Marechal de La Meilleraye, finding that the Abbe de la Riviere and others made mere jest and banter of the insurrection, fell into a great passion, spoke very sharply, and appealed to me.  I freely gave my testimony, confirmed his account of the insurrection, and seconded him in his reflections upon the future consequences.  We had no other return from the Cardinal than a malicious sneer, but the Queen lifted up her shrill voice to the highest note of indignation, and expressed herself to this effect:  “It is a sign of disaffection to imagine that the people are capable of revolting.  These are ridiculous stories that come from persons who talk as they would have it; the King’s authority will set matters right.”

The Cardinal, perceiving that I was a little nettled, endeavoured to soothe me by this address to the Queen:  “Would to God, madame, that all men did but talk with the same sincerity as the Coadjutor of Paris.  He is greatly concerned for his flock, for the city, and for your Majesty’s authority, and though I am persuaded that the danger is not so great as he imagines, yet his scruples in this case are to be commended in him as laudable and religious.”  The Queen understood the meaning of this cant, recovered herself all of a sudden, and spoke to me very civilly; to which I answered with profound respect and so innocent a countenance that La Riviere said, whispering to Beautru, “See what it is not to be always at Court!  The Coadjutor knows the world and is a man of sense, yet takes all the Queen has said to be in earnest.”

The truth is, the Cabinet seemed to consist of persons acting the several parts of a comedy.  I played the innocent, but was not so, at least in that affair.  The Cardinal acted the part of one who thought himself secure, but was much less confident than he appeared.  The Queen affected to be good-humoured, and yet was never more ill-tempered.  M. de Longueville put on the marks of sorrow and sadness while his heart leaped for joy, for no man living took a greater pleasure than he to promote all broils.  The Duc d’Orleans personated hurry and, passion in speaking to the Queen, yet would whistle half an hour together with the utmost indolence.  The Marechal de Villeroy put on gaiety, the better to make his court to the Prime Minister, though he privately owned to me, with tears in his eyes, that he saw the State was upon the brink of ruin.  Beautru and Nogent acted the part of buffoons, and to please the Queen, personated old Broussel’s nurse (for he was eighty years of age), stirring up the people to sedition, though both of them knew well enough that their farce might perhaps soon end in a real tragedy.

The Abby de la Riviere was the only man who pretended to be fully persuaded that the insurrection of the people was but vapour, and he maintained it to the Queen, who was willing to believe him, though she had been satisfied to the contrary; and the conduct of the Queen, who had the courage of a heroine, and the temper of La Riviere, who was the most notorious poltroon of his time, furnished me with this remark:  That a blind rashness and an extravagant fear produce the same effects while the danger is unknown.