The King repaired to the chamber at mid-day.  His speech was followed by plaudits which lasted several minutes.  After the signing of the constitutional act all sat down.  The President rose to deliver his speech; but after he had begun, perceiving that the King did not rise to hear him, he sat down again.  His speech made a powerful impression; the sentence with which it concluded excited fresh acclamations, cries of “Bravo!” and “Vive le Roi!”—­“Sire,” said he, “how important in our eyes, and how dear to our hearts—­how sublime a feature in our history—­must be the epoch of that regeneration which gives citizens to France, and a country to Frenchmen,—­to you, as a king, a new title of greatness and glory, and, as a man, a source of new enjoyment.”  The whole Assembly accompanied the King on his return, amidst the people’s cries of happiness, military music, and salvoes of artillery.

At length I hoped to see a return of that tranquillity which had so long vanished from the countenances of my august master and mistress.  Their suite left them in the salon; the Queen hastily saluted the ladies, and returned much affected; the King followed her, and, throwing himself into an armchair, put his handkerchief to his eyes.  “Ah!  Madame,” cried he, his voice choked by tears, “why were you present at this sitting? to witness—­” these words were interrupted by sobs.  The Queen threw herself upon her knees before him, and pressed him in her arms.  I remained with them, not from any blamable curiosity, but from a stupefaction which rendered me incapable of determining what I ought to do.  The Queen said to me, “Oh! go, go!” with an accent which expressed, “Do not remain to see the dejection and despair of your sovereign!” I withdrew, struck with the contrast between the shouts of joy without the palace and the profound grief which oppressed the sovereigns within.  Half an hour afterwards the Queen sent for me.  She desired to see M. de Goguelat, to announce to him his departure on that very night for Vienna.  The renewed attacks upon the dignity of the throne which had been made during the sitting; the spirit of an Assembly worse than the former; the monarch put upon a level with the President, without any deference to the throne,—­all this proclaimed but too loudly that the sovereignty itself was aimed at.  The Queen no longer saw any ground for hope from the Provinces.  The King wrote to the Emperor; she told me that she would herself, at midnight, bring the letter which M. de Goguelat was to bear to the Emperor, to my room.

During all the remainder of the day the Chateau and the Tuileries were crowded; the illuminations were magnificent.  The King and Queen were requested to take an airing in their carriage in the Champs-Elysees, escorted by the aides-decamp, and leaders of the Parisian army, the Constitutional Guard not being at the time organised.  Many shouts of “Vive le Roi!” were heard; but as often as they ceased, one of the mob, who never quitted the door of the King’s carriage for a single instant, exclaimed with a stentorian voice, “No, don’t believe them!  Vive la Nation!” This ill-omened cry struck terror into the Queen.