In the evening, when all was almost over, and the company ready

to break up, so it was for the misfortune of the State, that the
King would needs break another lance; he sent orders to the Count

de Montgomery, who was a very dextrous combatant, to appear in
the lists. The Count begged the King to excuse him, and alleged

all the reasons for it he could think of; but the King, almost
angry, sent him word he absolutely commanded him to do it. The

Queen conjured the King not to run any more, told him he had
performed so well that he ought to be satisfied, and desired him

to go with her to her apartments; he made answer, it was for her
sake that he would run again; and entered the barrier; she sent

the Duke of Savoy to him to entreat him a second time to return,
but to no purpose; he ran; the lances were broke, and a splinter

of the Count de Montgomery's lance hit the King's eye, and stuck
there. The King fell; his gentlemen and Monsieur de Montmorency,

who was one of the Mareschals of the field, ran to him; they were
astonished to see him wounded, but the King was not at all

disheartened; he said, that it was but a slight hurt, and that he
forgave the Count de Montgomery. One may imagine what sorrow and

affliction so fatal an accident occasioned on a day set apart to
mirth and joy. The King was carried to bed, and the surgeons

having examined his wound found it very considerable. The
Constable immediately called to mind the prediction which had

been told the King, that he should be killed in single fight; and
he made no doubt but the prediction would be now accomplished.

The King of Spain, who was then at Brussels, being advertised of
this accident, sent his physician, who was a man of great

reputation, but that physician judged the King past hope.
A Court so divided, and filled with so many opposite interests,

could not but be in great agitation on the breaking out of so
grand an event; nevertheless all things were kept quiet, and

nothing was seen but a general anxiety for the King's health.
The Queens, the Princes and Princesses hardly ever went out of

his anti-chamber.
Madam de Cleves, knowing that she was obliged to be there, that

she should see there the Duke de Nemours, and that she could not
conceal from her husband the disorder she should be in upon

seeing him, and being sensible also that the mere presence of
that Prince would justify him in her eyes and destroy all her

resolutions, thought proper to feign herself ill. The Court was
too busy to give attention to her conduct, or to enquire whether

her illness was real or counterfeit; her husband alone was able
to come at the truth of the matter, but she was not at all averse

to his knowing it. Thus she continued at home, altogether
heedless of the great change that was soon expected, and full of

her own thoughts, which she was at full liberty to give herself
up to. Everyone went to Court to enquire after the King's

health, and Monsieur de Cleves came home at certain times to give
her an account of it; he behaved himself to her in the same

manner he used to do, except when they were alone, and then there
appeared something of coldness and reserve: he had not spoke to

her again concerning what had passed, nor had she power, nor did
she think it convenient to resume the discourse of it.

The Duke de Nemours, who had waited for an opportunity of
speaking to Madam de Cleves, was surprised and afflicted not to

have had so much as the pleasure to see her. The King's illness
increased so much, that the seventh day he was given over by the

physicians; he received the news of the certainty of his death
with an uncommonfirmness of mind; which was the more to be

admired, considering that he lost his life by so unfortunate an
accident, that he died in the flower of his age, happy, adored by

his people, and beloved by a mistress he was desperately in love
with. The evening before his death he caused Madame his sister

to be married to the Duke of Savoy without ceremony. One may
judge what condition the Duchess of Valentinois was in; the Queen

would not permit her to see the King, but sent to demand of her
the King's signets, and the jewels of the crown which she had in

her custody. The Duchess enquired if the King was dead, and
being answered, "No"; "I have then as yet no other matter,"

said she, "and nobody can oblige me to restore what he has
trusted in my hands." As soon as the King expired at Chateau de

Toumelles, the Duke of Ferrara, the Duke of Guise, and the Duke
de Nemours conducted the Queen-Mother, the New King and the

Queen-Consort to the Louvre. The Duke de Nemours led the
Queen-Mother. As they began to march, she stepped back a little,

and told the Queen her daughter-in-law, it was her place to go
first; but it was easy to see, that there was more of spleen than

decorum in this compliment.
IV

The Queen-mother was now wholly governed by the Cardinal of
Loraine; the Viscount de Chartres had no interest with her, and

the passion he had for Madam de Martigues and for liberty
hindered him from feeling this loss as it deserved to be felt.

The Cardinal, during the ten days' illness of the King, was at
leisure to form his designs, and lead the Queen into resolutions

agreeable to what he had projected; so that the King was no
sooner dead but the Queen ordered the Constable to stay at

Tournelles with the corpse of the deceased King in order to
perform the usual ceremonies. This commission kept him at a

distance and out of the scene of action; for this reason the
Constable dispatched a courier to the King of Navarre, to hasten

him to Court that they might join their interest to oppose the
great rise of the House of Guise. The command of the Army was

given to the Duke of Guise and the care of the finances to the
Cardinal of Loraine. The Duchess of Valentinois was driven from

Court; the Cardinal de Tournon, the Constable's declared enemy,
and the Chancellor Olivier, the declared enemy of the Duchess of

Valentinois, were both recalled. In a word, the complexion of
the Court was entirely changed; the Duke of Guise took the same

rank as the Princes of the blood, in carrying the King's mantle
at the funeral ceremonies: He and his brothers carried all before

them at Court, not only by reason of the Cardinal's power with
the Queen-Mother, but because she thought it in her power to

remove them should they give her umbrage; whereas she could not
so easily remove the Constable, who was supported by the Princes

of the blood.
When the ceremonial of the mourning was over, the Constable came

to the Louvre, and was very coldly received by the King; he
desired to speak with him in private, but the King called for

Messieurs de Guise, and told him before them, that he advised him
to live at ease; that the finances and the command of the Army

were disposed of, and that when he had occasion for his advice,
he would send for him to Court. The Queen received him in a yet

colder manner than the King, and she even reproached him for
having told the late King, that his children by her did not

resemble him. The King of Navarre arrived, and was no better
received; the Prince of Conde, more impatient than his brother,

complained aloud, but to no purpose: he was removed from Court,
under pretence of being sent to Flanders to sign the ratification

of the peace. They showed the King of Navarre a forged letter
from the King of Spain, which charged him with a design of

seizing that King's fortresses; they put him in fear for his
dominions, and made him take a resolution to go to Bearn; the

Queen furnished him with an opportunity, by appointing him to
conduct Madam Elizabeth, and obliged him to set out before her,

so that there remained nobody at Court that could balance the
power of the House of Guise.

Though it was a mortifying circumstance for Monsieur de Cleves
not to conduct Madam Elizabeth, yet he could not complain of it,

by reason of the greatness of the person preferred before him; he