“The father and aunt have been talking to Pecquius,” said Henry very dismally; “but they give me much pain.  They are even colder than the season, but my fire thaws them as soon as I approach.”

“P.  S.—­I am so pining away in my anguish that I am nothing but skin and bones.  Nothing gives me pleasure.  I fly from company, and if in order to comply with the law of nations I go into some assembly or other, instead of enlivening, it nearly kills me.”—­[Lettres missives de Henri vii. 834].

And the King took to his bed.  Whether from gout, fever, or the pangs of disappointed love, he became seriously ill.  Furious with every one, with Conde, the Constable, de Coeuvres, the Queen, Spinola, with the Prince of Orange, whose councillor Keeremans had been encouraging Conde in his rebellion and in going to Spain with Spinola, he was now resolved that tho war should go on.  Aerssens, cautious of saying too much on paper of this very delicate affair, always intimated to Barneveld that, if the Princess could be restored, peace was still possible, and that by moving an inch ahead of the King in the Cleve matter the States at the last moment might be left in the lurch.  He distinctly told the Advocate, on his expressing a hope that Henry might consent to the Prince’s residence in some neutral place until a reconciliation could be effected, that the pinch of the matter was not there, and that van der Myle, who knew all about it, could easily explain it.

Alluding to the project of reviving the process against the Dowager, and of divorcing the Prince and Princess, he said these steps would do much harm, as they would too much justify the true cause of the retreat of the Prince, who was not believed when he merely talked of his right of primogeniture:  “The matter weighs upon us very heavily,” he said, “but the trouble is that we don’t search for the true remedies.  The matter is so delicate that I don’t dare to discuss it to the very bottom.”

The Ambassador had a long interview with the King as he lay in his bed feverish and excited.  He was more impatient than ever for the arrival of the States’ special embassy, reluctantly acquiesced in the reasons assigned for the delay, but trusted that it would arrive soon with Barneveld at the head, and with Count Lewis William as a member for “the sword part of it.”

He railed at the Prince of Orange, not believing that Keeremans would have dared to do what he had done but with the orders of his master.  He said that the King of Spain would supply Conde with money and with everything he wanted, knowing that he could make use of him to trouble his kingdom.  It was strange, he thought, that Philip should venture to these extremities with his affairs in such condition, and when he had so much need of repose.  He recalled all his ancient grievances against Spain, his rights to the Kingdom of Navarre and the County of St. Pol violated; the conspiracy of Biron, the intrigues of Bouillon, the