LICENCED.  
July 24. 1677. Roger L'Estrange.   

THE DISORDERS OF LOVE.  
Truly expressed In the unfortunate Amours of GIURY with MADEMOISELLE de Guise.  
Made English from the French.  
LONDON, Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley, in Russel-street in Covent-Garden near the Piazza's, 1677.   

THE BOOKSELLER TO THE Courteous Reader.  
THE Gentleman that translated this Novel, for his Diversion, would not be persuaded to write a Dedication, nor a Preface to it; and I being unwilling so excellent a Piece should go into the world without a Commendation, have taken upon me to tell you, that this Book was reckoned in France as the best piece of that great Wit M. D. V D. and has had the same reception abroad, as in Holland, and in other Parts, where it hath been several times Printed. I am very confident it hath lost nothing by the translating, which makes me hope it shall have as good Fortune here. I could say much in the commendation of the Intrigue and Wit of it, but I leave you to find that diversion in reading it; which is all that is aimed at by  
Yours R. Bentley.   

Some Books Printed for James Magnes and Richard Bentley.  

PLato's Apology of Socrates, or Phedo, two Dialogues concerning the immortality of Man's Soul.  
A Natural History of the Passions.  
Country Wit.  
Sophonisba.  
Nero.  
Augustus Caesar.  
Abdellazar.  
Sir Timothy Taudery.  
Madam Fickle.  
All Mistaken.  
English Monsieur.  
Tartuff.  
Andromache.  
Calista.  
Forced Marriage.  
The Fool turned Critic.  
Fond Husband.  
Plain-Dealer.  
Moral Essays, the second Part.  
Zelinda.  
Count Brion.  
The Happy Slave. 1. and 2. Parts.  
The Happy Slave. Part. 3. in the Press, which makes the Story complete.  
The Education of a Prince, in the Press.  
The Triumphs of Love over Fortune, in the Press.   

French Novels.  
L'Heureux Esclave complete, en trois Voll.  
Princess Monferrat.  
Grand Viziers.  
Galand Escroc, ou Comte Brion.  
Memoires de Suede, 3. Voll.  
The Differences betwixt Don John and Cardinal Nitard, in French 2. Voll.  
Mercure Galand, 2. Voll.  
Le Triomphe de l'Amour sur la Destinèe.  
Le Vice-Roy de Catalogne, in the Press.    

THE Disorders of LOVE.  
THE famous Giury was descended of the House of Anglure: And till the Factions that threatened the ruin of France, divided that Kingdom against itself, the Duke of Guise (who headed the League against Henry the Third) and the Marquis d'Anglure, Givry's Father, were intimate Friends: Their Business, their Designs, their Pleasures were the same. Their Children were educated under the same Masters; and though of unequal birth, and designed for Dignities of different degrees, it was the Duke's pleasure the Princes his Children should use Giury as their Brother: Givry's Conversation was so charming that it gained him a general affection, and particularly inclined the young Princes to a ready obedience to their Father's Command. And Giury was so discreet, that the more familiar the Princes were with him, the greater respect he paid them, and seemed to have laid the foundation of an inseparable Union between the Families of Guise and Anglure. But private Friendships are seldom proof against that violence that breaks asunder the most sacred bonds. The League separated the Duke of Guise from the Royal Interest, which the Marquis d' Anglure resolved to adhere to. This sense of duty to the King, the Duke looked upon as an effect of lightness and ingratitude. And the fatal Close of the Assembly of the Estates at Blois having kindled a War in all the Provinces of France, Giury became the open and declared Enemy of those persons, for whom he had once had the highest love and esteem.  
Giury was so deeply affected with the agreeable Conversation of the young Princes of Guise, and so much admired the Charms of the Princess their Sister, that this sudden change gave him infinite trouble. But besides the favours and hopes the King made use of to secure his allegiance, the beauty of Madam Maugiron was no small attractive to win him to the Court, and fix his resolutions to be of the Royal Party.  
This Lady was a young Widow, though her Husband's Children by a former Marriage would not allow her that quality; and those of their Family deny her a place among their lawful Alliances. Count Maugiron the King's Lieutenant of the Province of Dauphine having married her for love; and it was pretended they had taken one another's words without further Ceremony to consummate the Marriage. But whether the Lady had placed too great a confidence in the promises of the Count, or was deceived by the imposture of a personated Priest instead of a real one, she had the good fortune by the credit of her Kinswoman, Madam de la Nove, to obtain protection from the King at Tours, where she was esteemed a principal Ornament of the Court.  
Giury was much taken with this Lady, nor was she insensible of his Charms. He was but one and twenty years old, an age too tender to adventure into the intrigues and mysteries of Love, had not Nature by extraordinary favours exempted Giury from the common Rule of things, and given him a privilege above the ordinary rate of men. He had before the age of eighteen performed the course of his Studies, and finished his Exercises; was Master of the Mathematics, and all other Learning requisite to the accomplishment of a Gentleman: He spoke Greek, Latin, and all the modern Languages of Europe, as well as his Mother Tongue; and in the process of my Story I shall have occasion to observe, he was made Captain of the Light-horse of France at two and twenty years of age.  
You may believe a Lover so considerable, easily made a more than ordinary progress in his Amour with a Lady, who had for him a violent inclination. She took no longer delight in the sight of any other: she did open incivilities and affronts to his Rivals: they spent whole days together in pleasant discourses and endearing Conversation. And when interrupted by the necessity of his attending the discharge of his duty, the lovely Widow writ him Letters so kind, that they supplied in a manner the pleasure of her company.  
These Letters he always carried with him, or put them up in a little Box, wherein he kept what he most valued. He read them over and over as oft as he had leisure, and took more care for the safety of that Box, than for his own life. But at a skirmish wherein the Enemy had the better of those of the King's Party commanded by Giury, among the rest of his Equipage the Box was taken. To know the deep sense he had of this loss, you must be as deeply in love as he was; and, the truth is, he had more than one reason to be troubled at it.  
The Children of Count Maugiron, by the former Wife, were in Arms for the League against the King, and Giury was afraid the Letters might come to their hands, who thinking themselves concerned to asperse the reputation of their Mother-in-Law, would be easily induced to publish the Letters. He was extremely troubled he had exposed his Mistress to that danger; and had he believed it would have taken effect, he had certainly made some rash attempt for the recovery of the Box. But being as witty as he was amorous, he came to a resolution to think no more of that accident, when News was brought him that a Trumpet from the Duke of Mayenne desired to speak with him, and brought with him a Box very like his.  
The Box indeed was in truth the very same he had lost; and when the Trumpeter delivered it him, he told him, That the Holy League intended not to manage any intrigue of Gallantry: that they had without scruple made use of such pieces of his Equipage as might be serviceable for Religion and the Public Good. But conceiving Love-Letters useless for advancement of those ends, they had faithfully sent him back all those that belonged to him.  
Giury smiled at the irony of the Compliment, and having told the Trumpet that the hearts of Heroes were large enough, to entertain at once the thoughts of love and of War, he dismissed him with a present, and locked himself up to peruse his Letters again; but was extremely surprised to find on a fold of the first Letter he looked upon, Verses written in an unknown Character, a Copy whereof follows.  
Although the tenderness of love  
Insensibly the sense improve,  
And lovers need a quick and tender sense,  
To raise their love above indifference.  
Yet oft poor Lovers ravishing sweets do prove  
Effects of humour, not of love.  
Giury very desirous to know what to apply this Maxim to, opened the Letter, which was to this effect.  
Madam de Maugiron's Letter to Giury.  
NO, Giury, I shall never be pleased with you, while I find you fully persuaded I am so. You are diligent, faithful, and passionate: But an entire confidence agrees not with the fineness and delicacy of my affection; and perfect love expects so much duty, that he is a stranger to it who thinks he has fully performed it. It must be your part to render yourself a little more capable of fear, it shall be my care to revive your courage, and settle your confidence. It is not my desire you should be ignorant of your happiness, but that I should by degrees convince you of it, as I please; and not find you convinced of it already.  
When Giury opened this Letter, he did did it rather of curiosity to see whether the Verses had been written there by chance, than out of any suspicion they contained a censure of the Letter. He loved Madam Maugiron too well to impute her affection to mere humour or fancy, or to think her humour predominant over her love; but comparing the sense of the Verses with that of the Letter, he thought it not so altogether exempt from being subject to blame, as he had formerly believed it. He asked himself whether it savoured not more of humour than love, to declare one's self unsatisfied with a person, who in the same period is acknowledged constant, diligent, faithful and passionately in love? He did not yet give sentence in favour of the Verses, but the defence he made for his Mistress against them was very weak. And tumbling over the rest of the Papers in the Box, he found on another Letter these Verses.  
Think not by long Discourses to express  
Your passions height, or tenderness:  
That love, that grief the greater is,  
Which in the heart close Prisoner lies.  
Giury reproached himself as guilty of unfaithfulness to his Mistress, for passing so favourable a judgement of these Maxims as he did: but notwithstanding this reproaah, he searched for more of them, and was glad when he found them. Upon a Letter, where Madam Maugiron applauded herself for the choice of her love, he found written 
Such is love's mighty influence,  
It spoils the judgement, and corrupts the sense;  
That often we enamoured are,  
Indifferently of foul and fair.  
Happy the man who by that power moved,  
Loves only what is worthy to be loved:  
And is reputed wise for loving that  
Which the strong impulse of his fate,  
Not his discretion, did incline him to:  
'Tis not by Choice, but Chance we woe.   
To another Letter, containing many fantastical reproaches, there was added, 
When the kind fates for Lovers choose  
The hour, each other to enjoy,  
Who would the precious minutes lose,  
In fruitless railing them t'imploy?   
The Verses on the former Letters had only persuaded Giury, that Madam Maugiron's Letters were liable to censure; but these last carried his reflections a little further: he fancied he had discovered a Lady in love, who made her advantages of all the innocent pleasures of it, and reduced all the mysteries and intrigues of it under the severity of rules, and exactness of Laws. And representing to himself the good fortune of a man who could affect a heart of that Character, he could hardly forbear envying his happiness, and permitting himself that moment to be persuaded that Madam Maugiron was not the sole person in the world capable to make him happy.  
Giury was then at Amboise, where part of the Troops under his Command were quartered. The Marquis de Bellegard, Master of the Horse to the King, in his return from the Army at Soulogne, passed through that Town partly to see Giury: They were intimate friends, and had no reserve for each other. Giury acquainted him with the adventure of the Box; which they sent for, that they might view it together; the Marquis de Bellegard had scarce cast his Eye on the Character of the Verses, but he thought he knew it, and told his Friend he was very much mistaken if it was not the hand of Mademoiselle de Guise. Of Mademoiselle de Guise, says Giury! Yes, replies the Master of the Horse, I knew at Piedmont where I was bred with my Unele, a Daughter of the Baron de Vins, whom he married, and to whom Mademoiselle de Guise writ very often: I have seen some of those Letters, and dare swear the Verses you have showed me were written by the same hand. Giury was a great admirer of Mademoiselle de Guise, when a Child, and easily imagined what a height of perfection her Charms were by this time arrived to. And what sweeter temptation for a man of one and twenty years of age, than to see a great and beautiful Princess begin to him in Gallantry, and encourage him to come on, by advancing first towards him. He asked the Marquis what he thought of the meaning of those Verses, whether without vanity he might not look on them as a favour, and expect a good issue? What good can you expest from them, answered the Marquis? a person engaged as you are, should rather fear than wish for good fortune in this kind; there is nothing more trouble some; nor can the pleasure be great which is derived from a happiness that reaches not the heart. Do you think then, replied Giury, that favourable prevention from Mademoiselle de Guise cannot reach my heart? I believe you in love with Madam Maugiron, answered the Marquis, and were I so, another Lady's favour would be but a trouble to me. I own myself in love with Madam Maugiron, says Giury, and unwilling to sacrifice my passion to a few Verses, the design whereof I know not: but if Mademoiselle de Guise intended them as a favour, it is not Madam Maugiron shall hinder me from being sensible of it. I am young and ambitious, and Mademoiselle de Guise is one of the most beautiful Princesses of the world. You would much question my wit, if having it in my power to be engaged in an intrigue of love with her, I should let slip the opportunity. I do not say the occasion is offered me, for you may be mistaken in the Character of the Verses; and though she had writ them, it cannot be doubted but she did it in merriment. But supposing she intended to make me disgust my Mistress, and show me that another might render me more happy, I should be loath to give her the displeasure of finding herself mistaken. Nor am I of opinion, that because at 21 years old I have had kind thoughts for Madam Maugiron, I must therefore look upon all other Ladies with the Eyes of an Hermit. Ah! poor Madam Maugiron, says the Marquis smiling, what a condition are you in? if you love Giury in earnest, you are to be pitied.  
Though Giury thought her not yet in any such danger, yet he fancied the Verses he had read expressed as much tenderness as gallantry, and could readily remember, that Mademoiselle de Guise was one of the finest Children in the world. He pleasantly flattered himself with a conceit, that she had vouchsafed to correct the Love-Letters that belonged to him, and had sent him the amendments under her hand. But all this was dubious; and if it had not been so, yet he received from Madam Maugiron those marks of tenderness, and expressions of kindness, he durst not once hope for from Mademoiselle de Guise: He had not yet resolved to quit a real happiness for a chimerical hope; and therefore returned to Court with Monsieur de Bellegard, to seek, said Giury, in Madam Maugiron's Eyes a preservative from the Evils that threaten her.  
They found the King full of joy at News he had lately received: The King of Navarre as he was putting his Army into quarters, met a flying Camp of the Leaguers Army, he fought them and gave them a total rout: many considerable Prisoners were taken, and among the rest the Baron of Vins, whose Daughter the Marquis de Bellegard mentioned in his discourse of the Verses in the Box. This Baron was one of the faithfullest Creatures of the House of Guise, and one of the ablest Councillors of the League. The King of Navarre sent him to the King, that he might by good usage endeavour to win him to his Party; and he came to Court the very moment that Bellegard and Giury arrived there. Giury was strangely moved at the sight and name of the Prisoner, and was more impatiently desirous to speak with him, than to see Madam Maugiron; and assoon as he found the opportunity to speak freely to him, Will you not suspect me, Monsieur le Baron, says Giury, or may I hope that the memory of my infancy will distinguish me in your affection from the rest of the Royalists? You have distinguished yourself hitherto, by actions so mischievous to our Party, answered Vins, that I should do you wrong to mix you with the multitude: This is not the way to express a remembrance of that infancy you put me in mind of; and I assure myself when the late Duke of Guise so highly commended your courage and address, he never thought you would one day employ them against the Princes his Children. I am engaged to it in duty (replies Giury) which the Duke of Guise would never have advised me to be wanting to. I was born a subject of the King I serve, and before I was of years of discretion, care was taken to inspire me with a blind submission to the Law of Allegiance I own him. But, Sir, let others less engaged than you and I judge of these things, and tell me, I beseeeh you, some News of the young Princes and Princess their Sister: Do they perform at age, what their infancy promised? and is Mademoiselle de Guise so beautiful at eighteen, as she gave us hope for when she was ten or twelve years of Age. The Princes, answered Vins, are worthy Heirs of the bravery and magnificence of their Family: He whom in your time they called the Duke de Joyease, who did since make his escape from the Castle of Loches, where he was Prisoner, is wise, stayed, and every way fit to bear the title of the eldest Son of his Father. The Prince of Joinville will be one of the handsomest Men on Earth: And the young Chevalier de Guise hath that height of Wit and Courage that add Lustre to the least of his actions. But the Princess their Sister is infinitely beyond any thing can be said of her, she hath a thousand Charms proper to herself, not to be found elsewhere, and parts so far excelling those of her Sex, that it may be affirmed, the most accomplished beauty under Heaven is the least of her good qualities. You have seen, adds he smiling, an Essay of her parts, in some Verses that were brought you by the Duke of Mayenne's Trumpeter, which I am persuaded raised in you no less curiosity than admiration: What, cries Giury, was it Mademoiselle de Guise made those Verses? is it possible she should take care to play the Critic on my Letters and send me them? It was she did it, I assure you, and charged me to deliver the Box to you, said the Baron, it fell into the hands of young Maugiron, who with great diligence makes his Court to our Princes. He shown them the Letters written to you, not knowing how far he was concerned in them: And when his Governor knew the Character, and would have paraphrased upon the intrigue, Mademoiselle de Guise (whom the Princes her Brothers had acquainted with the business) forbade him, and said, she reserved too much kindness for the memory of your Infancy, to permit a Lady you loved to be evil spoken of. It was generously done, replied Giury, and like a Princess of the House of Guise. But, Sir, have not the Verses something in them extraordinary? cannot you tell me what induced her to write them? and whether they were made in private, or in company? I cannot well inform you of that particular, said Vins, I was not present when the Verses were made; and when Mademoiselle de Guise shown them me, she told me only, she would let the Court Ladies see, that those of the league exceeded them both in delicacy of affection, and in fineness of wit. But dear Giury, added the Baron, fixing his Eye on him, you have been bred among us, and may go yourself to ask the Princess what she thought when she wrote them. Do not you blush to think you should learn it by a third hand? Or can you imagine the Princes of the holy Union are not able to offer you as good Employments as those you aspire to with the King of Navarr? For 'tis he is the soul of your Party, and the King's name is but the colour you make use of to authorise your protecting of Heresy. I have told you already, replied Giury, rising up, we are too far engaged in contrary Parties to expect belief from one another, of what we can say to the advantage of the several Interests we have espoused: A Peace, or an absolute Victory, will unite us better than our discourses: if in the mean time you are permitted to write to the Princes and Mademoiselle de Guise, I conjure you to assure them, that all the good offices a Man can do in their favour, without rendering himself unworthy of their esteem, they may always expect and promise themselves from Giury.  
With that he went out, and passing to the King's Lodgings met there the Marquis de Bellegard, and went with him to take a turn in the Malle at Tours, where he told his Friend the discourse newly had with the Baron de Vins. I could have sufficiently assured you, said the Marquis, that these Verses were Mademoiselle de Guise's; and I believe I am not much more mistaken in the Judgement I passed on the Adventure. You will withdraw your love from Madam Maugiron, and feed yourself with fancies about Mademoiselle de Guise; and I know by the air of your Countenance in speaking to me, that part of my Prophecy is already fulfilled. But, my dear Friend, yield not at the first onset, rally your Forces if you find them disordered; remember that Mademoiselle de Guise is among a party not ready to be vanquished: 'tis possible you may not see her while you live. But could you flatter yourself with the hopes of a peace, or such an absolute victory that might gain you the convenience of seeing her, she is the Daughter of an imperious House, and will have a Sovereign stranger, or a Prince of the Blood to her Husband. Never think she will forego these hopes in complaisance to you; and consider what a miserable case it is for a Person accustomed to the kindest endearments of his Mistress, to tyre himself out with making love to one who only feeds him with fancies.  
Giury had reflected on all these particulars before he heard them from his Friend; but by a fate he could not avoid, he mused incessantly of Mademoiselle de Guise, and scarce thought any more of Madam de Maugiron: He resolved, without the least scruple, to conceal from her the recovery of the Box; and no longer thought her Conversation charming as formerly. When she spoke kindly to him, he remembered the Maxim in Verse, where Mademoiselle de Guise found fault with expressions that are strong, and became clearly of opinion he should have had more love for his Mistress, had she not too much assured him of his happiness: he was displeased to find it so publicly known, and fancied that a more private intrigue would have been more pleasant. And when to all this he added the conceit of being allowed, by a great and beautiful Princess, to pretend a right grounded on what had already past from her, to entertain her with the discourses of Love, and perhaps make her forget that Tyranny her high Blood seemed to oblige her to, against inferior Lovers, he gave himself up to be entirely possessed with fancies and illusions he could never get rid of.  
It was long  Madam Maugiron apprehended the mischief that threatened her. Giury made constant visits to no other Lady, and if at any time she found him melancholy and discomposed, she imputed it to his ambition of Glory and Renown. But the season being come for opening the Campagne; and Giury at parting entertaining his Mistress with no other discourse than of clearing the Loire, and reducing to the obedience of the King all the Towns the League possessed upon that River. Have you no other discourse to entertain me with, Giury, says she? or can you think me not otherwise concerned at your departure, than to be told only what Conquests you design for the King? He blushed at this reproach, but not being able to confess he deserved it, he excused himself by telling her, his discourse proceeded from his earnest desire to render himself more worthy of her. 'Tis not enough for so charming a beauty as yours, says he, that your Servant be deeply in Love, but his Love must be such you need not be ashamed of, and that his reputation of being a great Captain may countenance and support his pretensions of Love. Ah, Giury, cries Madam Maugiron, it is a noble ambition, but unseasonable here: it may afford a Lover some comfort against troubles absence produces, but is not a fit subject of discourse at parting, if there be true Love in the case: the Love you have had for me I see is at an end; and whether any displeasure you have taken against me, or your immoderate desire of glory hath possessed your heart, I find myself now wholly excluded it.  
Giury was not yet fully assured, whether Madam Maugiron were in the right: Love at the beginning appears in disguise, and though his thoughts for Mademoiselle de Guise might well be called Love, his mind could not yet yield them that Character. He did all in his power to persuade Madam Maugiron her suspicions were ill-grounded, and having great power over her, left her somewhat better satisfied.  
Having left Madam Maugiron, he went to the Baron de Vins, whom by the advice of Bellegard he visited seldomer than he could have wished. The Baron passionately devoted to the service of the House of Guise, incessantly pressed Giury to join again with that Family. The Marquis de Bellegard from whom he concealed nothing, observing the great progress Mademoiselle de Guise made in Givry's affections, was not a little afraid lest Vins should debauch Giury from his allegiance; but not thinking it fit to make the discovery of so offensive a doubt, he told him that his frequent interviews with the Prisoner gave those who envied him great advantage against him, that he would do well to forbear them. Giury had for some time followed the advice; but being ready to take the Field, and not knowing but an exchange of Prisoners, or some fatal blow might deprive him for ever of an opportunity to see the Baron a-again, he resolved to take leave of him.  
I am going, says Giury smiling to the Baron, to add new Crimes to those you have reproached me with; and if I die not in the first rencontre, there shall few Actions pass this Campagne but I will have a small share in them; but I hope this part of my duty may be consistent with the rest of it; and that if upon the general occasion I am forced to bear the Character of an Enemy to the League, I may in particular occurrences assume that of a faithful Servant of the House of Guise. I know not whether fare will permit you to assure them thus much, but if it be in your power I conjure you to do it; and particularly to tell Mademoiselle de Guise, that the duty which retains me on the King's side is no small Chain upon my affection, that all I do is more liable to complaint than blame; and that if she could read what is written in my heart, she should discover there more respect, and more zeal for her, than the Troops of the League shall find contrary appearances in my Actions. Though the Baron had used all his endeavours to seduce Giury, and in the first transports of his affection for the League, was displeased with him for being so firm to the royal interest, he could not forbear esteeming him the more for it. He embraced him with a great deal of kindness, and promised to do him all the good Offices he could. Giury having thanked him, took his leave and went to take possession of the Charge the King had given him, of Campmaster General of the Light-horse of France.  
The King's Army made great progress this Campagne; the King of Navarre, in whom the King began to place the confidence he ought, had inspired him with a desire to fight in the head of his Troops, and the two Kings having joined Forces at Soulogne, the place of general Rendezvous, led them along the Loire, where they found not one Town in Rebellion but it submitted to them. The King took Gergeau, Gien, La Chaute, and made himself Master of all the Bridges above and below Ordeaus; Piviers, Estampes, and Dourdan had the like fate: And the Kings having past the Seyne at Poissybridge, were met there by the Duke de Montpensier, who led their Forces from Normandy, and by the Sieur de Harlay-sancy, who had made brave Levies in Switzerland. The King's Army being thus put into the condition he wished it, for besieging of Paris, he laid Siege to it in July, 1589.  
Giury in former Sieges had given signal proof of his Courage and good Conduct. Not a Sally had been made but he bravely repulsed: he had cut of all succours, and got the advantage in all Skirmishes that happened; the safety of the Army depended on his care. The King of Navarr charmed by so many brave Actions, and seeing Givry's Person as amiable as his name was illustrious, honoured him with a particular kindness; and till a more considerable Government should fall procured him that of Brie.  
Giury was scarce in possession of it, when he surprised six thousand Bushels of Corn which they endeavoured to convey into Paris, by the help of a counterfeit Pass. Giury caused it to be seized at Pont de Samois, and was giving orders for carrying it to Corbeil where the King's Magazine was; but having cast his Eyes on the Man who had the Convoy in charge, he thought he knew him, a Officer of the late Duke de Guise.  
He was not mistaken. The Man being a principal Officer of the Duke's Household, and knowing Giury. Is it possible, says he, that you should hinder the carrying this Corn into Paris, and that a Person so dear to the late Duke my Master should reduce the Princess his Wife, and the Princess his Daughter to the danger of being in want? How in want, says Giury in great heat, are those Ladies exposed to share the miseries of the people? Yes doubtless, says the Master of the Convoy; and the Duke de Mayenne to let the besieged see they suffer no more than he does, hath made so small a reserve of Corn for himself, that all his House, and particularly that of Madam de Guise, was upon the point of being in want when I left them. They shall not want it, replies Giury; and you may assure Madam and Mademoiselle de Guise, that they shall never receive from me any Personal displeasure. With that, consulting only his growing passion, he made him a good Pass, and gave him a Guard to bring him without danger to the first Retrenchments.  
This Action was too public not to be discovered: The King was informed of it. And those who envied the merit of Giury represented it as much to his disadvantage as possible: it was really of great importance. Upon the reducing or resistance of Paris depended absolutely the Peace, or the War: That Town was the seat and support of the Rebellion. To take Paris from the League, was to blow up the very Foundations of the League; and to send in thither the least refreshment could not but appear a Crime highly punishable. And some Prisoners taken at a Sally informed, that if that Convoy had been stayed one day longer, the Citizens were resolved to open their Gates; that it was not in the Duke of Mayenne's power to keep them longer from doing it; and that nothing but the sight of that Corn, and promises of more to be brought in the same way, could have appeased the people. This Circumstance so highly aggravated Givry's fault, that the King was in extreme wrath against him, which the credit of all his Friends could not appease; so that the King of Navarr was forced to send for him to come in Person to justify himself. His excuse had been excellent, had he been to clear himself before the King of Navarre, from whom all faults of Love had their pardon of course. But besides that the King was not of that temper, Giury could not resolve to lay open his folly, and made so pitiful a defence, that his best Friends and Protectors were ready to condemn him. The King of Navarre sent him word of it, and having told him from the King, That he must justify himself better, or stand convicted of Intelligence with the Enemy; he let him know there was no mean to be found betwixt these extremes; so that Giury was forced to make the King of Navarre a clear confession of the secret motive of his Fault.  
This Prince who feared to find Giury more criminal, was mightily pleased with the Relation, and running to inform the King of the truth, persuaded him the fault was pardonable in a young Man, and that in case he could be more circumspect for the future, this first fault deserved only a reprimand. The King gave him a very severe one, and it was the last from the Mouth of that poor Prince, who was traitorously assassainated on the morrow. On this lamentable occasion Giury expressed his real ackowledgements of those marks of esteem he had received from the King of Navarre: He was the first that saluted him King of France, and persuaded the Marquis de Bellegard, and several others, to do the like; and expressed so much constancy and resolution against those who would not join with him, that it may be truly affirmed, the new King received from him the establishment and tranquillity of the beginning of his Reign. Not but that the Crown did of right belong to him, but that the Law had declared him incapable, upon the account of his Religion. There was then so great a Force in arms against him, that had certainly taken the Crown from him, if those foreign oppositions had been seconded by any domestic disorders. Giury alone appeased the Seditious and encouraged the Fearful. The new King being sensible of it, thanked him in expressions so tender and kind, that the Court looked upon Giury as a declared Favourite.  
The first troubles occasioned by the change, being somewhat appeased, the King took his Quarters at Meudon, where he received the Deputies of his Parliament and Uuniversity of Paris, who conjured him to render his Religion consistent with his Rights. A Conference was agreed to be held for that purpose; and that things might be debated with the greater freedom, he granted a Cestation of Arms for fifteen days.  
Giury received the news from the King's mouth, as he came out of the Council; the King added, smiling, That, during the Truce, he might go and receive thanks for the succours he had sent Mademoiselle de Guise: This was licence enough for a young Man of his Curiosity; a curiosity that well might be called a passionate Love.  
He went from Meudon the same instant with his Friend Rellegard, who would not let him go alone, and mingling themselves with the Guard appointed the Deputies; they were received together with them into the Town. They went immediately to the Hostel de Guise, to discover where the young Princess usually walked, that they might see her without being taken notice of. They were told she was at the Tuilleries, with the rest of the Princesses of of the Family, to know the success of the Deputies journey, who were to have Audience there.  
The two Adventurers got thither, and were so fortunate to learn from the first Livery-men they asked, That Mademoiselle de Guise, being apparently too young to enter into deliberations of State, was walking alone in the Garden: Thither they went, and had not walked thirthy paces, but they perceived her coming towards them; they drew off at some distance, that they might look upon her with more liberty. Giury thought her then a thousand times more charming than the Baron de Vins had described her. The Marquis de Bellegarde had never seen her before. He had met his Uncle at the Expedition of the Marquisate of Saluces, followed him to his death, and came not to Court till after the death of the late Duke of Guise, who had removed all his Family thence. He was surprised at the Beauty and Majesty of this Princess, and confessed that Madam de Maugiron was not to be compared to her.  
Giury was but too much confirmed in the same opinion; the sight of the Princess had now perfected, what the Verses and the Descriptions of Vins had but begun. Giury was seized with a strange heat of affection: he looked on Princess with so much attention that he could not hear Monsieur Bellegarde. And both advancing to see her at a nearer distance, they were observed, and gave her the curiosity to inquire who they were that appeared so handsome and of so haughty a mien. She sent a Gentleman to ask them if they came to engage in a Party? and whether they wanted one to present them to the General, the Duke of Mayenne her Uncle?  
We are not now to engage in a Party for the War, Mademoiselle, (says Giury approaching her) but should esteem ourselves happy, if protection were offered us to engage here in a Party of Love: Whatever we see at Paris invites us to such an Engagement: The Ladies here are admirable, and the Conjuncture of the Siege furnishes frequent occasions to do them service: But there are so many Competitors ambitious of this Honour, that as for me I fear I have spoken too late, and am not likely to find any place void.  
Mademoiselle de Guise knew Giury as soon as he spoke, but resolved for her diversion, to use him as an Adventurer unknown. Those of your Age (says she) are seldom exposed to want of Employment: they engage and disengage with so much ease, that Love never fails to find them business: at the worst they may list themselves Volunteers, which is not the worst Employment in the Militia of Love. The Employment of a Volunteer hath not business enough for a Soul like mine, Mademoiselle, (replied Giury) I have more experience than my age promiseth, and I must take it as an injury, if Love allow me not a place among his tried Soldiers. The experience you may have gained elsewhere, says Mademoiselle, will perhaps not be valued among the Ladies of the League: they possibly may be afraid the mysteries of Love are altered among you, as those of Religion; and that being accustomed to maintain the Party of Heresy, they may not find in you a Faith so pure as they expect in their Servants.  
The Marquis de Bellegarde had hitherto been silent, having given his Friend the honour of speaking first. But hearing the Lovers of the Royal Party taxed of Heresy, he thought himself obliged to defend them. We are very willing to make proof of our faithfulness against the Lovers of the League, Mademoiselle, said he; and this kind of Combat would be more advantageous for us than Combats of War: it being more easy to be perfectly in Love with the Ladies of the League, than to conquer the Princes of that Party.  
As Monsieur de Bellegarde was saying that word, Madam de Guise came to them; and with her, Madam de Nemours, her Mother in-Law, Madam the Duchess of Mayenne, the Lady marchioness Villars, her Daughter by a former Husband; Madam d'Aumale, formerly Mademoiselle d'Elhoeuf, and several other Ladies, who came from the Audience of the Deputies to take the Air in the Garden.  
They all knew Giury, and Madam de Guise having the Story of the Convoy, and Givry's Compliment fresh in her memory, ran to him with open Arms, and embraced him, as if he had been then (as formerly he was) her children's Companion in the Exercises of their Youth. She beckoned to Mademoiselle, her Daughter, to do the like; and the young Princess not expecting a second Command, Think not, (said she saluting him,) that I knew you not till my Mother's arrival, you were not so much out of my memory: But, adds she, leaning towards his Ear, you serve a Mistress so delicate, that I held myself obliged to be cautious.  
Giury could not answer these obliging expressions, being prevented by the Questions and Caresses of the other Ladies. One asked him if he came to render himself up to his old Friends, another reproached him for having forsaken them. He returned his Answer in deep Reverences made to them, or in ambiguous terms; and letting them know that his Friend there present was the Marquis de Bellegarde, Master of the Horse to the King, they acquainted the Ladies that their Visit was a Fruit of the Truce; and that it should not be their fault, if they should not be allowed by a good Peace to wait on them oftener.  
These Discourses held till Sunset. Giury had a desire to continue them longer, and to lie that night at Paris: but Bellegarde, though charmed with the sight and Conversation of Mademoiselle de Guise, thought it not fit to hazard so long a stay, without particular leave from his Majesty. He drew his Friend as it were from the Garden, where he stayed above an hour after the Ladies were gone; and taking the way to the King's Quarters, they had no other Discourse as they went, but of the Beauty and Charms of Mademoiselle de Guise. Giury had till this time observed some measure of civility towards Madam de Maugiron: He was sensible he loved her not as he had formerly done; yet he made some scruple of betraying the hopes of a Lady in Love with him, who never gave him any cause of complaint: She stayed at Chinon with Queen Lovise, and writ to Giury by every Courier; and he as punctually answered her Letters. He had gained her the protection of the new King, and loved her still as an obliging acquaintance; but with so much indifference, the Love he retained for her could not disturb the peace of his spirits. Yet the sight of Mademoiselle de Guise had utterly destroyed those small Relics of Kindness for Madam de Maugiron. At his return from Paris he found at his Quarters a Letter from Madam Maugiron, and forgot to read it; two or three more had the same fortune. Mademoiselle de Guise had so entirely possessed both his affection and fancy. What Charms she has! says he to the Marquis de Belleogarde, what a mixture of Majesty and sweetness appears in her? How quick, yet how pleasing and agreeable she is! Did you ever see a Physiognomy so witty, and so open and clear as hers is? Her Eyes have a Lustre ours can hardly endure to behold it. Smiles seem to dwell on her Lips; and what can be more delicate and easy, than her Conversation? She is, I fear, answers Bellegarde, every way too perfect for your repose; and your Friends could have wished the Baron of Vins had not drawn her Picture so much to the Life.  
Giury stirred not out of his Quarters the night he returned from Paris. His spirits were in disorder, and his affections in too great a heat to be adventured into the company of Persons unconcerned; and one night's reflection was little enough to put him into a condition to appear at Court. The King no sooner saw him but he took him aside, and with the familiarity which gained him so many hearts; Well, Giury, says he, have you seen Mademoiselle de Guise, and do you find her worthy of what she made you do against the interests of your Party? Mademoiselle de Guise, Sir, replies Grury, is a Person of so admirable perfections, that your Majesty shall permit me, if you please, to forbear the description. I know your heart susceptible of amorous impressions; and mine is so inflamed, I should certainly die, should any accident cross my desire. Fear no such accident from me, says the King; you are more than one way sufficiently Guarded on that side. I have kindness for you, and understand very well what Love can do in a Man of your temper. As for me, I am so prepossessed with another Object, that all other Beauties in the World cannot reach my affection. With that, as a new evidence of his favour, he trusted him with the secret of his passion for Gabrielle d'Estree, afterwards Duchess of Beaufort. This Amour of the Kings was then in its first heat, and he spoke of his Mistress to Giury with such transport, that Giury could no longer suspect danger on that side; but made the King a faithful relation of all the passages at Paris: To which he added an humble Petition, that the King would allow him the liberty to make his advantage of the conveniences of the Truce. The King left him absolute Master of his actions, so that he went back the same day to Paris, where Mademoiselle de Guise expressed a desire to see the King's Camp; which they agreed should be done on the morrow. Mademoiselle de Guise came in company of the Princess her Mother; and Giury, having received them at the foot of the Retrenchments, conducted them under certain Tents adorned with Flowers, and with Greene's. He treated them there at a magnificent Collation, served in by Boys in the habits of Slaves: The Collation being over, Giury brought the Ladies to a little Plain, where, with the King's leave, he had caused some Troops to be drawn up in Battalia, and Exercised them before the Ladies. The Princesses were very much delighted with the sight, and in their return to Paris were attended by a Company of Germane Trumpeters, who made an excellent Consort of Military Music, and led them as triumphant to the Walls of the City.  
The Marquis de Bellegarde, who, under pretence of seconding the intentions of his Friend, was glad of the occasion to make his Court to Mademoiselle de Guise, entertained the Ladies of the League with a false attack of a Fort.  
The King was not displeased at these Entertainments, in hopes they might conduce to sweetening and mollifying the spirits exasperated, and improve the Truce into a lasting Peace: But these hopes soon vanished, for the Duke of Mayenne had proposed the Truce for no other end, than to give the Duke of Parma (who had promised him aid) the convenience of advancing to the relief of Paris; and as soon as he knew the Duke of Parma was on his March, he briskly broke off all further Conference, and the War became more obstinate than ever.  
The King was extremely incensed at this Juggle, and Giury was no less afflicted. He had discoursed several times, to his great satisfaction, with Mademoiselle de Guise, but had not declared to her his passion. He had the sense to think more time and more services necessary, to make way for so high an attempt; but conceived he had observed in the young Princess, that freedom of spirit that gave cause to believe she would be more taken with beight of merit, supported with excess of affection, than with height of birth void of qualities suitable: They had often spoken of Madam Maugiron; Giury assured the young Princess, that the Verses she had sent him, had dissipated those mists of affection that blinded him; and that ever since, he looked on that Lady with a great deal of indifference. Mademoiselle de Guise took pleasure in making him repeat this protestation; and the day before the Conferrences were broken of, she carried on this discourse so far, as to tell Giury he deserved better Fortune, than to be the Knight-Errant of a Provincial Dame. Had he desired her to explain herself, 'tis possible, he had found she spoke this at random. But he was so willing to be deceived, that he found matter in her general and ambiguous expressions, to flatter himself into hopes his reason declared groundless; however he thought he could never be angry enough with the Duke of mayenne, for hindering him to clear his doubts, by so sudden and unexpected a Rupture.  
He hoped to have done it at parting with the Princess, and ran towards Paris to take his leave of her, but found all further Communication already prohibited by Proclamation, and returned much troubled to the King's Quarters; and after a few days marched away with the King to meet the Duke of Parma. This March set Paris at liberty, and no less troubled than angered the Royalists, thus forced to raise the Siege: But there was no remedy, and it was of importance to fight the Enemy before he should have taken his advantage: the King advanced for that purpose to Cheles, where the Armies lay six days in sight of each other, and the Kings not able to force the other to fight. The Duke of Parma was made believe that the King's Troops were but few, and not in good order: but when the Duke had from a little Hill taken a view of them in Battalia, he found himself not in a condition to hazard a Battle; and drawing off in a thick Fog that risen one of those mornings, he contented himself with surprising Lagny, within a League of his Camp. The King did what he could to secure the Town; but the design of taking it was so closely laid, that his Majesty perceived it not until it was too late to prevent it.  
This exploit of the Duke of Parma, having assured to the Parifians the freedom of the River Marne, set their City at full liberty from the inconveniences of the Siege: but this relief came so late, it did them little good. The bodies of the Citizens had been so dried up in the Dearth, that they could not bear a plentiful feed: The change of Food became as mortal as the Famine at Paris; and the King's Army was now as necessitous as the Leagues had been. The taking of Lagny had blocked up the River Marne, the Garrisons of the League in several Towns in the heart of France intercepted his Convoys; and during the Siege of Paris, the Country about it was laid so desolate it had neither Corn nor Forage: This forced the King to send the greatest part of his Soldiers to refresh themselves at their respective homes. The Duke of Parma having had the glory of setting Paris at liberty, was willing to secure it by besieging Gorbeil: The Town held out a month, and was not taken but by a General assault.  
The brave Giury still deeply resenting the Duke of Parma's arrival, which broke off the Conferences and removed the hopes of Peace, could not with patience see him enjoy that Conquest. He got together the Garrisons of his Government of Brie, andegged on by a courage which seemed more than Natural, retook in one night by Scalado, a Town before which one of the greatest Captains of his time laid Siege a whole Month.  
The Duke of Parma had so little foresight of this Action, that part of his baggage was at Corbeil when retaken; and particularly many rare Essences, whereof some were necessary for his health, and others excellent for delicate smells. Giury sent them all to Mademoiselle de Guise to dispose of at her pleasure, and sent her word by the Gentleman who had the Passport for conveying them, That he esteemed himself so happy, in having been once able to give passage to the Corn designed for her service, that he was extremely desirous to improve that advantage; that the Convoys she should be concerned in should no more be stayed at Corbeil than they had been at Pont Samois, but that he was too jealous of the opportunities of doing her service, to permit that this liberty should depend upon the Duke of Parma.  
The Compliment was civil, and the freedom Mademoiselle de Guise used towards Giury during the Truce, might have encouraged him to some higher piece of Gallantry. But the Answer she gave Givry's Messenger was, That she would receive neither Message nor Present from his Master; that he should carry him back the Essences he had sent, and tell him, the familiarity she had vouchsafed to use towards him hindered, her not to be Mademoiselle de Guise, nor him from being, as he was, Giury.  
He was so much surprised at this Answer, that he made the Gentleman repeat what he had said to her; and finding nothing in his expressions that might occasion a return of so much scorn and contempt, would have put all at stake to know the meaning. But the King gave him no leisure for it, having commanded him to attend him presently with his Forces, to fall upon the Duke of Parma in his retreat for Flanders. The King gauled him in his March, and having pursued him as far as the Tree of Guise, came to refresh himself at St. Quentin. There he received News that the Marquis d'Humieres had taken Corby from the League. The King expressed his satisfaction at this News by public rejoices, wherein he was pleased the Ladies at St. Quentin, and the Parts thereabouts, should have their share. He ordered several divertisements to be given them, and expected that Giury who was no less gallant than brave, should according to his custom, bear a principal part there; but he was so fretted and vexed at the usage he had received from Mademoiselle de Guise, that occasions of joy became a very torment to him.  
He begged the King's leave to return to his Government, where he used many endeavours to appease the wrath of Mademoiselle de Guise; and to discover the cause of it. He made inroads to the very Gates of Paris, took several Prisoners, and sending them to the Princess, acquainted her by them, that he would not submit to the prohibitions he had received, till she would make known to him by what Crime he had occasioned them. But notwithstanding all the evidences he could give her of respect and zeal, she persisted in a scornful silence; or if at any time she broke it, it was to return him harsher Answers than those his Gentleman had brought him. He passed a whole Winter in this grievous condition; and to increase his vexsation and sorrow, every day produced new reproaches from Madam Maugiron.  
She called him perjured, light, inconstant, ingrate; and threatened a thousand extravagances he thought himself obliged, in civility, to prevent. He had for some time neglected answering her Letters, in hopes by this means to discourage her from writing: But finding to the contrary, that this did but make her more prolix and impetuous in her stile, he sent her word plainly he had no more love for her, that he was sorry for't, and wished he could have loved her all his Life; but that Man is not Master of his affections; and he prayed her to forget an ungrateful Person unworthy to possess a place in her thoughts. This terrible Letter was so far from wakening her anger, and effecting her cure by a generous disdain, that it produced only solemn protestations of an unalterable Constancy.  
There needs but an ordinary Love, writeth she to him, to make us love him that loves us. My Affection being a great deal more perfect, can produce greater effects; and I will love you scornful and ingrate, as I loved you when I thought you faithful and kind.  
Giury had the honesty to reproach himself for the ingratitude he was forced to, and would have given all he was worth to see Madam Maugirons affection cool to an indifference. But when he reflected on the rigours of Mademoiselle de Guise, it heightened his sense of them, and the right he conceived he had to complain of the strangeness of his Fortune.  
In the mean time the season was come for taking the Field, and the hopes of Peace appearing every day more remote; the King designed to besiege Rouen, as a place whose situation and importance appeared of moment towards the reduction of Paris. This Siege is mentioned in History as one of the hottest during these Wars. Queen Elizabeth of England had sent the King a powerful Fleet, which blocked up the City toward the Sea: His Majesty's Troops, which he commanded in Person, begird it on the Land side: And the Marquis Villars, Son-in-Law to the Duchess of Mayenne, defended it. He possessed himself of the Fort St. Katherine, where he had Batteries which fired continually. The besieged made furious Sallies, and scarce a day passed without Skirmishes which deserved the name of bloody Fights. In one of these Giury was dangerously wounded in the Shoulder; and the sorrow he lay under on the account of Mademoiselle de Guise, increasing the dang●● 〈…〉 his Wound, the Chyr●rg●●● 〈◊〉 thought him at the 〈…〉 death. The King had a 〈◊〉 affection for this young Ma● 〈◊〉 doubted whether he had in his Army a Person capable to supply his place; and declared this doubt so publicly, that many were displeased at it: but he slighted their murmurs, and being informed of some expressions Giury had let fall, that he hated his Life, and was glad to see himself in danger to lose it; his Majesty went to the Village they had carried him to, and earnestly conjured him to tell him what cast him into this despair.  
Giury was too much charmed with the goodness of his Master, to hid from him a secret he had expressed so great a curiosity to know: He told him what had happened at Corbeil, and the relation having so disturbed him, that he thought his life at an end: I perceive, says he, I shall die without knowing the cause of my misfortune. I confess I might look on my rashness as cause sufficient, but having never declared it but by my looks, which Mademoiselle de Guise hath no reason to pretend she understood, I cannot fancy it is she hath cast me into this calamity. I beseech your Majesty, by that goodness whereof I have received so many evidences, and which makes you bear so tender a part in the extravagances of an unfortunate Lover, that you will cause a request to be made to Mademoiselle de Guise, when I am dead, not to abhor my memory as she appears to do my Person; but to believe this Petition had not come so late, could I have justly roproached myself with the least desire might justly offend her.  
The King was so affected with Givry's discourse, that he could not forbear letting fall some tears. He prayed him to do all in his power to help the Surgeons in the Cure; and having communicated to him a design, he thought proper to give him some comfort; as soon as he left him he put it in execution.  
The Chevalier d'Oise, Brother to the Marquis Villars, had been taken Prisoner at a Sally; and being allied to an Uncle of Mademoiselle de Guise, was very well acquainted with her: the King gave him his liberty, on condition he should know of the Princess wherein Giury had displeased her, and should give him an account of it.  
The Prisoner acquitted himself faithfully of his Charge, and hastening to Paris, did as hastily inform his Majesty, that Mademoiselle de Guise complained of a Letter which Giury had written, and discoursed in it of Love to her; that she was highly offended at the liberty he had taken, and would have punished him with immortal scorn, but that his Majesty's generosity to the Chevalier d'Oise merited her gratitude and thankful acknowledgements, which moved her to promise his Majesty she would forget this fault of Givry's.  
This promise gave him a little comfort, but withal troubled him with new doubts and perplexities. He had not written to Mademoiselle de Guise, and could not imagine who had forged the Letter. He knew not whether he was to grieve or rejoice, that his secret was thus revealed; but all things considered, as it is of greater advantage for a Lover to be known such, than to burn unperceived; he took heart again, and recovered his courage by degrees, which added to his good temper, quickly dissipated the fears conceived of his Life.  
His Life became every day more necessary for the Progress of the King's Arms, which his sickness had visibly retarded. The Officers of the Cavalry, who had an entire confidence in the Bravery of Giury, who had gained their hearts by his civility and kindness, did that under his Conduct they did not under any other. Ever since his hurt they were always defeated; the King durst not put them on any vigorous Enterprise under any other Chief. And the Duke of Parma, coming the second time in aid of the Leaguers, forced his Majesty to raise his Siege from before Rouen, as he had forced him to raise that from before Paris.   

The Second Part.  
THE King used his utmost endeavours to repair the disadvantages the Duke of Parma's first Expedition had put him to: he advanced to encounter him by the way; he long kept the Duke of Mayenne (who had taken the Field) from joining him. And when at length they were joined, he invested them at Yvetot, and at Caudebec; and had there finished the War, had not some of his Generals preferred their particular interests before the public tranquillity. The Duke of Parma was dangerously wounded at Caudebec, and in few months after died of that wound. The death of so formidable an Enemy made the King some amends for the miscarriage of his Enterprise against Rouen. He sent his Army into Winter Quarters, and taking his own at guysor's, sent for the fair Gabrielle, for whom his Passion was now grown so violent, he could no longer conceal it.  
Giury had not been at any of these Expeditions, having continued at his Government of Brie, where he endeavoured to put himself in a condition to clear the Mysteries of his Adventure. The more he thought upon it, the more perplexed it appeared. In the midst of these reflections, when he began to look abroad, with design to take the Field, as he was entering Melun, they brought him a Gentleman belonging to Madam de Guise, who conjured him by that Messenger to grant her a Pass to go visit the Duchess, her Mother-in-Law, who was fallen sick at Nemours in her return from Bourhon, where she had been taking the Waters.  
Giury stayed not for the Kings leave to satisfy her request, but presuming on his Master's goodness, and confidently undertaking for it, he sent Madam de Guise a Passport as large and effectual as she could wish; and went to receive her at the entry of his Government, and Conucted her to Melun, where she lodged one night. Mademoiselle de Guise accompanied her Mother this Journey; and as soon as Giury had a sight of her, he endeavoured to gather from her looks his good, or bad fortune; but discovered only a civility so very indifferent, he could not ground any judgement upon it.  
Madam de Guise that evening dispatched a Courier to Nemours, to inform the old Duchess of the hour she thought to arrive there. And while she was writing in a Closet, near her Chamber, Mademoiselle de Guise having taken her station  a Glass, to mend something she disliked in her dress, Giury followed her, and with a tone that sufficiently evidenced his fear and his trouble, said, Mademoiselle, may the Letter of my Lady Duchess, your Mother, be as favourable to me as another was unfortunate? and will it afford me the occasion and means to know the particulars of my mishap? Let's talk no more of it, answers Mademoiselle de Guise interupting him, I declare myself guilty of having occasioned your rashness. I thought we had not yet past the time of our Infancy, when the greatest familiarities are innocent; but you were not of that opinion, but looked on that as a favour which was only an effect of gaiety and mirth, and thought you were allowed to write a Love-Letter to one who had been so free with you as to send you Verses of Love: I have sacrificed the resentment of that injury to the liberty of the Chevalier d'Oyse, and promised the King to think no more of it. Why should you mind me of it? But, Mademoiselle, replies Giury, if I never had the presumption to write to you, and truth may merit from you what you have already granted due to the liberty of the Chevalier d'Oyse, ought you not to hear my defence? or will you deny me the justice of pleading for myself? How? did not you write to me? says Madedemoiselle de Guise; the Letter was delivered me as yours, hath your Name subscribed to it, and two or three messages have confirmed the boldness whereof it is full. Having never seen it, answers Giury coldly, I know not what boldness you condemn in it; but know very well Inever writ it: and thought I had a desire to do it, yet I mastered it; and it is impossible that the Letter you mention should have my Name in it of my writing.  
This Adventure appeared so strange to Mademoiselle de Guise, that she resolved to know the bottom of it; she remembered that as she was going to fling that Letter in the Fire, one of her Maids for whom she had no reserve, having seen that Declaration of Love, and found it handsomely written, had heaped her from burning it: she called for the Maid, and having asked what was become of that Paper, the Maid answered she had it in a Box they had brought with them to Nemours. Mademoiselle de Guise promised Giury a sight of it that evening; and when the Duchess, her Mother, was withdrawn, Giury having waited the young Princess to her Apartment, she kept her word with him. But how was he surprised to find this Declaration of Love of the hand-wrighting of the Marquis de Bellegard?  
'Tis true he might have writ it, says Giury, having read it, but he should have asked my leave; and this doubtless conceals a Mystery I am afraid to discover. Whence comes the Mystery, answers Mademoiselle de Guise, who could have imposed on you sentiments of such extravagant presumption? 'Tis not that I complain of Mademoiseelle, says Giury, the passion the Marquis de Bellegard attributes to me is too glorious to be denied: But 'tis he hath written to you in my Name; and though it be true it was impossible for me to see you without adoring you, yet I would have died rather than have told you so: and the Marquis hath been false to the friendship between us, in discovering a secret I gave him no leave to reveal. But alas, adds he with a sight, is this all the falsehood he is guilty of? did he not write to you in my Name, to sound your thoughts for himself?  
Love is full of fancies and capricious extravagances. mademoiselle de Guise was highly incensed at the presumption she charged von Giury; and what displeased her from him, she had equal reason to be displeased with from any Gentleman of his Quality in the Kingdom. There was not a comelier Person in France, nor any in so fair a way for the highest Preferments. Not to mention those grounds and reasons Mademoiselle de Guise had to own an esteem and some kindness for him. However, following an humour not to be paralleled but in the extravagances of Love, she looked on this Action of the Marquis as singular, and entertained a more than ordinary curiosity to know what could move him to it. She asked Giury several Questions, to discover whether Bellegard had only spoken for his Friend, or wrote with an intention to know whether she would receive the Love of any but a Prince. This last surmise pleased her better than the first; and though she appeared haughty, and feigned herself willing to find out Bellegard's Crime, for no other end but to punish it, 'tis certain the rarity of the Adventure made her look upon it with a more favourable Eye, than she had done the Letter at first.  
Giury preceiv'd nothing of this, scarce daring to cast his Eyes on the Princess; and though her looks might have given him some cause of suspicion, the sense he had of her haughtiness obliged him to believe the contrary. Sometimes she appeared highly provoked at his presumption, and sometimes did but laugh at it. Though she equally mortified Givry's hopes either way; yet the thoughts of his having made a Personal discovery of his Love to Mademoiselle de Guise gave him some comfort; and the night after this discourse was the pleasantest he had since the Adventure of Corbeil.  
Madam de Guise parted on the morrow betimes; and Giury having accompanied her as far as he could, left the care of his Government to his Lieutenant de Roy, and went to guysor's, where he was sure to find the Marquis de Bellegard. He had not seen him since the business of Corbeil; and at that time he was gone to meet the succours sent the King by the Protestant Princes of Almain, under the Conduct of Prince Casimir, who was already come into France with the Prince of Conde. The King fearing the Forces of the League might lay an Ambush for them, had sent the Marquis de Bellegard to scour the ways; and at his return Giury was wounded, and gone to Brie. He was impatient for a sight of him, to ask him the meaning of the Letter; and found him honoured with a new Dignity, the King having made him Duke and Peer, for which he was receiving the Compliments of his Friends, as Giury arrived.  
The new Duke ran to him with open Arms; and though Giury was not satisfied with his proceed, he forbore not to make his Caresses an obliging return. They fell in discourse. The Duke told his Friend, that they expected at guysor's the Princess Katherine, the King's Sister, who having been under his Majesty's displeasure, for having designed a marriage with Count Soissons, contrary to his Majesty's Command, had newly received pardon for her disobedience, and came, as was reported, to give her consent to another marriage: All the discourse at Court was of the reception prepared for her. But after this general Conversation, Giury finding himself alone with the new Duke, I have News to tell you too, says he to the Duke, Madam and Mademoiselle de Guise coming within my Province, the latter charged me with an Answer to a a Letter you had written to her. The Duke de Bellegard reddened, and Giury having observed it; I did not think, says he, I had so considerable a Person as you to my Secretary, and should have done my utmost to avoid giving you that trouble, had it been in my power to fancy you would have vouchsafed to have taken it upon you.  
Do you find my Letter did you any harm, answered the Duke, or think you it was not the Office of a Friend to put you in condition of speakiag to Mademoiselle de Guise as a declared Lover? I am not yet satisfied, replied Giury coldly, whether that Declaration was to my advantage, or prejudice: But, my Lord Duke, I know it the part of a true Friend, not to have done any thing of this nature without my consent; and I have cause to believe you were willing to make me try a dangerous Ford, rather than save me another kind of peril. This, in tuth, is ingeniously turned, says the Duke de Bellegard ironically, how many Lovers have you seen carry on their amours with the Ladies they Court, by acquainting them with the passion of their Rivals? What then did you design by it, replies Giury (confirmed in his suspicion by the trouble he saw the Duke in, being of a temper too frank and open for disguise?) What right had you to discover my secret, or what excuse can you make to the dearest of your Friends, for having drawn upon him the indignation of a Person he had confessed to you he was in Love with? When I considered, says the Duke de Bellegard, the Circumstances of your Love, I was of opinion you might long languish without knowing your destiny; and esteeming uncertainty the most miserable condition of a Lover, I was willing to bring you out of it, and persuade you to desist or pursue your Amour according to occasion: if Mademoiselle de Guise hath favourably received the Declaration of your flames, you are ungrateful to entertain my service with so much coldness; if she be really angry with you, I have left you at liberty to disavow the Letter; and you may either make use of your reason for your Cure, or continue to love her without telling her of it, as if I had not written.  
Giury was very good-natured, and a great lover of the Duke de Bellegard, he was ready to beg his pardon for having suspected him; and had done it, but that they were interrupted by a multitude of Courtiers who came pouring in upon them, and that very Evening he became sensible that his friendship blinded him, and that the Duke de Bellegard was really his Rival.  
Madam de Maugiron faithfully executed the threats she had expressed of loving Giury all her Life, whether he would or not. The slights of her Lover, and the homage she received every day from several others, could not alter her affection. She made so diligent inquiry among those that went to Moulins, whither Queen Lovise was retired upon the death of the late King, and had placed so many spies about Giury, that she made discovery of his Love for Mademoiselle de Guise: there was some discourse of it upon the setting at liberty the Chevalier d'Oyse; and the story of the Letter, which Giury averred he had not written, could not be kept so close but this jealous Lover knew something of it: And in the journey the Duchess Dowager of Nemours made to Bourbon, Madam de Maugiron, who saw her there, gained her Love so far that when Queen Lovise changed the Glories of the world for the Solitudes of a Cloister, Madam de Nemours took Madam Maugiron into her family. She was there when Madam and Mademoiselle de Guise came to Nemours. The young Princess and Madam de Maugiron looked upon one another with a great deal of Earnestness and attention, and this latter, being possessed with jealousy, was so diligent to spy out an occasion to discover the sentiments of her Rival, that she learned them from her own mouth. The sickness of Madam de Nemours was rather tedious than dangerous, and Mademoiselle de Guise being not obliged to any great appearances of sorrow, took the liberty frequently to leave the Duchess her Mother to take care of the sick Lady. Being retired timely one evening to her Chamber, and going thence to take a walk in the Garden, without other company but a Maid, who was her confident, Madam de Maugiron followed them, and having slipped in behind the Pales, heard Mademoiselle de Guise say,  
No, lafoy moth, I do not think the Master of the Horse handsomer than Giury, and I have confessed to you more than once, that I had retained such an Idea of this latter as might have inclined me to much tenderness for him, had he been of Quality suitable to mine. But whether this humour of mine were over when I saw him again, or that his friend, being a newer Object to me, had the happiness to discern better the weakness of our Sex, and make his attack with greater success, I was more attentive to him than to Giury in the Tuilleries. What he did during the Truce pleased me more than what Giury did, though I gave Giury marks of kindnesses and familiarity, I durst not have given Bellegard, without trouble and scruple. When I received the Letter you know of, I thought I had seen him that brought it in Bellegard's Train; I believed it had come from him, and was so vexed to find another Name subscribed, it angered me more against Giury than the Crime he appeared guilty of. Not that I could have been willing Bellegard should have spoken to me of Love, without resentment on my part, but that (the Rules of Respect and Decency observed) it would have pleased me better to discover Bellegard, than Giury, in Love with me: And I must confess I found in myself a more than ordinary joy, when I thought at Melun I was Mistress of his affection.  
But, Mademoiselle, says la Mothe, what assurance have you of that? the Letter was written in Givry's Name; and the Master of the Horse, being his particular Friend, had perhaps no other intention, but to discover his Love to you, without exposing him to your displeasure. Either thou hast no wit, replies Mademoiselle de Guise, or thou dost not believe as thou sayest. Call to mind the Actions of Bellegard during the Treaty: remember his looks, and the Messages he sent me every day; and those Verses of the Unknown Lover every day on my Toillette, or among my . It was not Giury that wrote them, therefore it was Bellegard. There is not one of our Party pretends any engagements, being all my Kindred or my inferiors; and either cannot, or dare not love me. Bellegard and Giury are the sole Persons of the King's Party have declared themselves engaged, the one confessing he is in Love with me, the other having written me a mysterious Letter. Whatever comes under the Character of Passion, proceeds doubtless from one of them. It is not Giury hath made the Declaration of Love to me, therefore it must be Bellegard, who had the dexterity to learn by another's experience how I might be inclined to entertain his affection.  
Mademoiselle de Guise, as she was speaking these words, came into a Walk where Madam Maugiron could not follow her without being perceived; but she had heard enough, and was impatient to let Giury know on the morrow the fruit of his unfaithfulness to her; and fearing her Letters not of force to persuade him, she pretended business at Court, and arrived there as Giury was coming out of the Duke de Bellegard's Lodgings.  
Madam de Maugiron's thoughts being all fixed on Giury, she went in search of him only and easily found him: He received a Billet from her to inform him of her arrival, and desire the favour of seeing him presently. This News troubled him, he dreaded the sight of her, and could have found in his heart to return straight to his Government; but bethinking himself how uncivil it would appear to use a Person thus, who had not given occasion for it, he mastered his reluctance, and went to the place where Madam de Maugiron had assigned him.  
Never did the appear so handsome and so fine, as that Evening; and Giury was astonished that with so many Charms and so much Love, it had not been in her power to retain him her Captive, and thinking she was come only to reproach him.  
Save yourself the trouble of telling me the occasion of your Journey, Madam, says he, I partly guests at it, and know beforehand what your just resentment may dictate to you. But, Madam, I am a Wretch that cannot enjoy favours of this kind, nor cure myself of my Apostasy, though I blame myself for it. 'Slight me as I deserve, Madam, and extend not your goodness so far as to reproach me for my inconstancy, but give me over as lost to my lukewarmness and indifference. I could really give you over to them, answered Madam de Maugiron, were they my only Rivals. 'Tis possible my affection might carry me so far, as to rejoice at your happiness, though attended with my misfortunes, and I might pardon you for being in Love with Mademoiselle de Guise, did she vouchsafe to answer it on her part; but I cannot give you up to her slights, and the treachery of your Friend Bellegard. These are the Enemies you are to provide your defence against, rather than the reproaches which the kindness I retain for you will not permit me to trouble you with.  
Giury was surprised at this discourse, and was within little of letting her see the trouble he was in: But bethinking himself, that Madam Maugiron had peradventure by some Spies discovered something of the Adventure, but knew not the whole truth, he recovered himself, and answered coldly, I cannot wonder, Madam, that a Lady of your merit should seek the cause of my indifference elsewhere than in yourself; and am sensible, that, suspecting the best of my Friends hath not sufficiently opposed the injustice I am guilty of towards you, you would revenge yourself of him by engaging us in a quarrel: But, Madam, I am not susceptible of such ill impressions; and what I know of your mistakes as to Mademoiselle de Guise, makes me think you no less mistaken as to the Duke de Bellegard. No, no, says Madam de Maugiron, you need not affect these disguises with me. I know what I say, and heard it from the Mouth of Mademoiselle de Guise. And so telling him of what passed at Bourbon and Nemours, she put him into so furious a jealousy that he could not conceal it from her.  
Pardon me, Madam, says he, confessing it, that I make you the Witness of a transport, which cannot but be troublesome to you. Had I power enough over myself to moderate it, I should have had power enough to master the cause of it; and I should love you again as ardently as formerly. If swear to you, by that which I hold most sacred, that I wish at the cost of the best part of my blood I had continued constant to my first Passion. But, Madam, Love goes not by choice, the humours of affection tyrannise over Reason: And since 'tis in vain to deny my inconstancy, I must declare I love Mademoiselle de Guise, even to madness; and am capable of the worst effects of despair, if I see her prefer before me a Rival of my Quality. Perhaps I should not grudge to see her marry some great Prince, but it will be certain death to me to see her pleased with the addresses of another Man of my Quality: if it be true she is pleased with them, you will not be long unrevenged, but shall see the effects of the unhappy News you have brought me so far.  
As he said this he went out, and having tormented himself all night, went in the morning to the Duke de Bellegard before he was awake. You have reason, says he, opening the Curtain, to sleep quietly, you may enjoy the pleasure of sound rest and repose; I must bid it farewel. But, perfidious Friend, why did you not deprive me of it the ordinary way? or what have I done to make you so treacherous as to render me the Instrument of my own torment? 'Twas by the blindness of my confidence, you had the opportunity to see the first effects of the Excellencies of Mademoiselle de Guise. 'Twas I first brought you to Paris during the Treaty: 'Twas by the permission I obtained of the King you had the convenience of treating her in the Camp: 'Tis my Name you made use of for declaring your Love: 'Twas by the mistake you engaged her in, you obliged me to tell her first that Letter was yours. Was she the only Person you could affect? or if it was impossible to see her without falling in Love with her, had you no other way to discover your love but by using my name?  
The Duke de Bellegard might, if he had pleased, have baffled longer with Giury, the discoveries Madam Maugiron had made were not convincing. But his conscience accused him, and he confessed ingeniously to Giury, that he was in love with Mademoiselle de Guise, that he had been so from the first view he had of her in the Tuilleries, that his love increased with the time, and that to sound her affection he had written the Letter Giury had seen. Had she given you an obliging answer, I had used such endeavours to master my affections, that perhaps I should have conquered it. But since she is not preingaged in favour to you, give me leave to Court an affection you have no right to, and remember, that if any engagement could have been proof against the charms of Mademoiselle de Guise, Madam de Maugiron had saved you the trouble of another Amour.  
They had much other discourse to this purpose, and began to fall into very sharp language, which would not have permitted them to part as good friends as formerly, had not the Duke de Montpensier interrupted them. He perceived them in a heat, and observed indignation in their looks. And the transports of jealousy are commonly impetuous, so that Giury was not long, but the Duke de Montpensier from his looks and his actions might clearly conclude what he guessed at first sight, Giury named no body, and the Duke de Montpensier understood no more, but that they were fallen out about a matter of love. But the King, who presently heard of the quarrel, being throughly acquainted with Givry's affair, sent for him, and made so good use of the power he had over him, that he quieted his spirits, and calmed the disorder they were in.  
What success have you had in your addresses to Mademoiselle de Guise, says the King, that you think you self concerned to make good your right to her against a Rival. If either of you be one day so fortunate as to obtain any favour from her, I may perhaps dispense with the others despair, but till than what cause have you of dispute, or what is't you quarrel for.  
Giury was ready to tell the King he had cause to envy his Rival; but forbore out of the respect he had for Mademoiselle de Guise, and his unwillingness to declare the happiness of the Duke de Bellegard; the secret knowledge whereof sufficiently tormented him, without the addition of open publication. So that he chose rather to say no more, than barely assure his Majesty, he would not give the example of division among the Chiefs of his Party.  
The better to keep his word, he returned to his Government, where the King was to come shortly, and order was to be given for his Majesty's reception. Before he left Court he saw the Princess Catherine arrived, and prevailed with his Majesty that she should take Madam Maugiron to her, as Queen Lovise had done, and obtained a Pension for her, that she might maintain herself with more splendour at Court. And could she have contented herself with friendship from him, and a more than ordinary care for her fortune, she would have rested satisfied with Givry's proceeding: But all was nothing to her if it fell short of Love, and whatever she could do, it was impossible to kindle it again in his heart.  
They had several discourses on this subject, which deserve relation, to make out the extravagances of Love. You will come again to me one day, says she to him, and 'tis impossible but so much love and constancy as I have expressed for you will affect you at last, you will learn the difference between a Love like mine, and that of a young Lady that knows not what Love is. You will wonder you have been so long in coming to the knowledge of it. You will then be ashamed of your blindness, and willing to repair your fault, by loving again with greater ardency than at first. Never fancy it, answers Giury, Love that dies of itself, never comes to life again in a man of my age. I see clearly at this instant, all that time could discover to me. I confess you deserve a heart more faithful than mine, and that I am unjust to requite your kindness so ill. But in Love, our understanding hath no power over affection. And if I must declare the height of indifference, I verily believe I should sooner love a third person, than return again to you. This is a hard saying, yet I think it worse to amuse you with vain hopes any longer. Proceed yet further, replies Madam Maugiron with tears, and tell me thou hatest me more than ever thou lovedst me. I shall not love thee the less for it. My fatal passion can subsist without hope, and seems long since to gather new strength without it. Thou art not beholding to me for it. 'Tis no voluntary love, yet sure thou should have some pity for me, whom my Stars use with such extremity of rigour.  
He had done much, and would have done any thing to see this Lady disengaged. But it is not so easy to be cured of this disease, as to fall into it. She continued loving him in spite of him, and he returned to Melun as unjust and ungrateful, as she had found him at guysor's.  
The Voyage the King made into Brie, was a happy step towards the peace of the Kingdom. The people grew weary of the wars, and the Duke of maine was particularly concerned to put an end to it. The last Expedition the Duke of Parma made into France, he highly caressed the young Duke of Guise. The Spaniards said aloud, That a person of his age and activity was fit to head a Party against the King, than a General that grew old, and had not his health. The Duchess of maine trembled at the apprehension these discourses might take effect. She knew Madam de Guise a haughthy Princess, and one would use her accordingly, if her Son became head of the League, and she thought it better submit to the King, than see her husband commanded by a young man. She hung constantly at the Duke's Ears, to incline him to an accommodation while he was in power, and made him fear he could not make it so much to his advantage, when devested of his Authority. He relished this advice well enough; but it could not take effect, while the King continued Protestant: and his Majesty being, in that particular, of the same opinion with his Enemies, had taken a resolution to be instructed in the Popish Profession.  
A Truce was agreed upon for three Months, during which his Majesty being advanced as far as Melun, Conferences were held with more sincerity than formerly on the League's part. The Conferences were no sooner opened, but Madam, and Mademoiselle de Guise passed the second time into Brie, in their way to Paris, and carried with them the Duchess Dowager of Nemours in a Litter. They saw not the King: Madam de Guise fearing if she waited on his Majesty, the Duke of Mayenne would reproach her with it. But the King complemented her by Giury, who accompanying them to the Gates of Paris, found an opportunity as he came from Dinner to speak a few words to Mademoiselle de Guise.  
May I adventure, Mademoiselle, says he, to ask if you have at last done me the justice my innocence deserves, and defaced out of your heart those impressions of wrath a forged Letter exposed me to? You have not disowned any thing that Letter contained, answered Mademoiselle coldly; it was not the Character displeased me, but the Sense. I do, and must ever own, says Giury, I have a love for you, that extends to adoration; but I disown the boldness taken to discover it so soon. I would have kept it close with abundance of respect in my heart, until some eminent service should have in some sort authorised me to own it; and if my ill fortune would have denied me the happiness of ever being useful to you, I would have waited for death to expiate my temerity. All this might have been easily done, replies Mademoiselle, with like tone as before; had you but denied the Love you were charged with, I should not have been at any pains to convince you of it. But, Mademoiselle, says Giury, it was you spoke to me, you who are my visible Goddess. I own you the duty of a religious sincerity, and had I endeavoured to disguise it, my Eyes would have discovered it. To what end is this discourse, says the Princess, with some frowardness, I have promised the King, and promise you once more, not to think of what is past. Let me desire you, once for all, not to speak of it while we live. I thought, replies Givory, cut with grief to the heart, you gave me no such order at Melun, Mademoiselle; give me leave to tell you, you had then some curiosity which made this discourse relish better, or that you reflected on it since to my disadvantage. Mademoiselle de Guise blushed at Givory's reproach, which confirming the truth of Madam de Maugiron's report, Ha', cries he, transported with jealousy, 'tis but too true that the rashness I am so much condemned for, is excused in my Rival; and that I am the most unhappy of Lovers.  
As he was saying this, word was brought mademoiselle de Guise she must come away; and she took so little pleasure in Givry's discourse, she made not her Company stay for her. Giury brought her to the Coach, and followed it two hours after; but scarce in all that time could Madam de Guise draw four words from him. He returned to the King so troubled and melancholy, that his Majesty perceived it, and had the goodness to take him aside, and ask him what made him so sad. Ah, Sir, replies Giury, almost with tears in his eyes, Mademoiselle de Guise hates me; and if the respect I own her may allow me to say more, she loves the Duke de Bellegard. The King was willing to know what grounds he had for this opinion, and the afflicted Lover was not able to forbear the discovery. The fancies and humours of a young Person whose affection is not fixed, says the King, are as changeable as they are wild. Bellegard is no more in a condition to marry her than you are, nor can entertain any hopes but of pleasing her: And since he has no other, I will find out so many occasions you may make use of to that end, that you shall at last be the happier of the two. But, for my sake, be at peace with him, and leave the rest to me.  
This promise gave Giury some comfort, knowing it in his Majesty's power to put him in a way, to do Mademoiselle de Guise so many services, that her gratitude to him might one day overcome the favour she was prepossessed with towards Bellegard. This made him sacrifice the motions of his jealousy to the pleasure of a Master so familiar and obliging; so that there happened nothing sharper between these Lovers at Melun, than at guysor's.  
In the mean time the general Peace of the Kingdom advanced, by the King's embracing the Popish Profession; who having abjured the Protestant at St. Denys, saw the obstacle of his reception removed, and Paris opening her Gates to him as her lawful Prince.  
The Duke of Mayenne, and other Princes of his House, retired to Soissons, where they afterwards made their peace. And there remained of them at Paris only the Dowager of Nemours, being too weak for a remove; and Mademoiselle de Guise, who would not leave her. The King, to keep his word with Giury, used him his Instrument for the daily favours he did the Family of Guise; he gave him the Command of the Forces ordered for the safe Conduct of the Duke of Mayenne. And when his Majesty made his Triumphant Entry into Paris, he gave Giury leave, with a Brigade of his Archers, to Guard the House of Madam de Nemours from violence; not that there was any great cause to apprehend dangers, in a City that had made a voluntary submission to its undoubted Sovereign, but that the House of Guise having been the support of the League, it could not be expected but there might be, among the People, some ill disposed persons, who under pretence of zeal for his Majesty's interests, might endeavour to enrich themselves by pillage of a house belonging to a family so eminently engaged against the King; so that his Majesty thought it necessary to use this precaution, and committed the care and management of it to Giury. He ran in all haste to execute his orders, and acquit himself of his Charge, with all the Offers of service and kindness that might be expected from a Lover. But was extremely surprised, to see himself prevented by the Duke de Bellegard, whom he found at the head of a great Body of Volunteers, ordering a Corpse de Garde to be set at the Gate of the Hostel de Nemours.  
Who gave you order for this, says Giury all in a rage; and how comes it you presume of your own head to place Corpse de Garde in any part of the Town. I will give the King an account of what I do, says Bellegarde coldly, it belongs not to you to take notice of it. It so far belongs to me, replies Giury, that if you give them not instantly orders to draw of, I will presently fall on, and we shall see hereafter whose actions will be best approved by his Majesty. You forget the rights of our ancient friendship, says the Duke, and will make me at length forget what we have been, to mind you what we are. I will refresh your memory, says Giury laying his hand on his Sword, and 'tis because we have been too intimate friends, we are now become irreconcilable Enemies. With that, the two Rivals, forgetting the King's orders, fell upon one another with unparallelled fury, and had not long fought without leaving bloody marks of their combat, if Mademoiselle de Guise (who spied from a window the beginning of the quarrel) had not come in person to stop it. She rushed in courageously between the two Rivals, and having calmed their fury by her presence, she had no sooner commanded them to be quiet, but they laid their Swords at her feet. What, says she harshly to Giury, are you he that opposes the care taken for our safety? it was not enough for you to have fought against the children of the late Duke of Guise, but you must expose his Mother and daughter to pillage, and by this visible ingratitude hope to establish yourself in my favour. I, Mademoiselle, answers Giury passionately, am I guilty of ingratitude to you? or would I expose you to pillage? What else would you have done? replies Mademoiselle de Guise: what means what I have but now seen and heard? You have seen me jealous any other but I should do you this small service, says Giury, and to my desperate discomfort I see you angry at my hindering another to do it. I will not admit ti to be done by the one or the other of you, answers Mademoiselle de Guise; send back your men, and come not hither to give ill people and Robbers an example of impunity; we shall guard ourselves better without you, than with the assistance of two persons who have so little respect for us. This said, she imperiously commanded both Parties to draw off, and the two Chiefs were forced to give them order accordingly, but made them keep thereabouts, and stayed in person with the Princesses to secure them from outrage. They needed not this caution long, for the King was scarce entered Paris but all was calmed, and a quiet established as if there had never been any disorder there. His Majesty was safe at Nostre- Dame, and came thence to dinner at the Lovure, where the most zealous of his Subjects paid him their first homage: after dinner the King went to see March out a Garrison of Spaniards the Leaguers had taken in, and provided by the Treaty they should have a Passport from his Majesty: in the mean time the Brigadier, who accompanied Giury with the Archers of the Guard, gave his Majesty an account of what passed between the Lovers; the King sent from them, and charged them so strictly not to quarrel for the future, that they never after had the confidence to do it.  
All the actions of Mademoiselle de Guise had confirmed Giury in the knowledge of his misfortune. She admitted more easily the Duke de Bellegard's excuses than his. All her sharp language was directed to Giury, all her good words addressed to Bellegarde: when Bellegarde fixed his eyes upon hers, she appeared pleased. Giury could meet nothing in her looks, but indignation and disorder. The displeasure this caused him, rob him of his good humour, and altered his very countenance so far, that the King was afraid he would fall dangerously ill. His Majesty who loved him entirely, and was not insensible of the torments of Love, did all in his power to comfort him. He had the goodness to visit Mademoiselle de Guise, and to speak to her in his favour. When the Duke of Mayenne made any Propositions, the King would not receive them, but by the mouth of Giury, and gave him full power to treat with the Duke of Guise, and made him sole Mediator between his Majesty and those Princes.  
But all these favours of his Majesty were ill interpreted. Mademoiselle de Guise thought Giury had begged them, and was displeased with him, as having made her the Subject of discourse for the King and the whole Court. But that was not the sole cause of her discontent, the King had thought her handsome, and she had ambition enough to carry her as high as the Throne: And they discoursed already of the dissolution of the King's Marriage with Queen Margaret, as a matter resolved. The Duke de Bellegard having many intrigues, and knowing how to make use of all his advantages, let Mademoiselle de Guise know how serviceable he might be to promote her designs, and dextrously dropped words which might make her apprehend Givry's love as an obstacle; that the King had a love for him, and probably his kindness for Giury might prevail more with him than Mademoiselle's Charms: the Duke de Bellegarde carried on his affairs by these devises so well, that Mademoiselle de Guise was scarce civil to Giury. The Princess Catherine (as well as Madam Gabrielle, and the rest of the Court) was now come to Paris, and had brought Madam Maugiron with her. This Lady used all possible endeavours to make her advantage of the rigours of Mademoiselle de Guise: But it was her fate, as well as the unfortunate Givry's, to love where they were not beloved; and were so far from being cured by the slights put upon them, that their passion was heightened thereby.  
The first two Months after Paris was reduced, the King employed in establishing the Parliament there, issuing gracious Declarations in favour of his faithful Subjects, and receiving the Deputies of Rouen, and several other Towns, returning to the obedience of the Crown: But about the end of that time the Spaniards, despairing of being able to raise more domestic broils in France, attacked it from abroad. Count Mansfield besieged La Capelle, and his Majesty foreseeing that if the Enemy made any progress in France, the rest of the Leaguers would take courage afresh, went in Person to raise the Siege, but understood by the way the Town was surrendered; and desirous to repair this loss by some Conquest, he designed to besiege Laon, being as a Fort for the remnant of the League. The Duke of Mayenne was then of the number; the Duke of Guise had made his peace, and most of the Princes of his House followed his Example: but the Duke of Mayenne had insuperable scruples, and would not acknowledge the King, till he should have absolution from Rome; and keeping the Field under that pretence, countenanced and supported the Enemies undertake. The King having advertisement that the Duke's Children were at Laon, with some other of the most obstinate Leaguers, thought the taking that place would more easily oblige the rest of the Party to implore his mercy. But to prevent the reproach of not having tried fair means before force, he let the Princesses of the House of Lorraine understand, that he was constrained to proceed with extremity against the rest of the Leaguers; and should be very glad if they could separate from the rest of the Princes of their blood. He loved Giury too well to give this Commission to any other but him. The King gave him his orders, and having commanded him to make haste, Giury was at the Hostel de Guise on the morrow before Noon. There he found Mademoiselle de Guise alone, the Duchess her Mother being gone upon a piece of service, wherein she was pleased to dispense with the attendance of her Daughter. And Giury having sent the young Princess word, he came from the King on business of importance, was admitted into her Chamber before she was out of Bed. He found her so handsome in that posture, that he was not able to master his Transport, but fell on his Knees at her Bedside, and taking one of her hands kissed it, with that ardour, that he had pressed somewhat further, if the the Princess had not thrust him back, saying to him with an imperious tone; You insolent Fellow, do you make use of the King's Name, to come hither to offend me; get you out of my Chamber, and presume not to set foot there again, till you have learned better how you ought to demean yourself towards a Princess of my Rank. These words struck Giury into such astonishment, that he stood leaning against a Window like one in a Trance; which Mademoiselle de Guise interpreting as a disobedience to her Command, she renewed her orders, and accompanied them with expressions of so much slight and contempt, that Giury could no longer endure them. Yes, Mademoiselle, says he with an accent suitable to his despair, you shall be obeyed; the presumptuous Giury shall never more enter your Chamber, and since he cannot live without seeing you, his blood shall expiate the misfortune of his having displeased you.  
With that he went out. Had the officious La Mothe been believed he should have been stayed; but Mademoiselle de Guise, for reasons known to herself, would not credit her, so that her Prayers and Remonstrances were all in vain; and all she could obtain, was that she might seek him out, and say from herself what she thought proper to comfort him.  
She found him in the Garden at the Hostel de Guise, walking as one distracted; and making up to him, What did you think on, says she, when you used towards Mademoiselle de Guise liberties so condemnable, and altogether unfit? was that your way to obtain the favour of a Princess so virtuous and haughty? or did you look upon her as a Town you were resolved to take by assault? It was not well, answers Giury faintly, I confess my transport consulted neither my respect nor my reason; but one look of Mademoiselle de Guise would have minded me of my duty, without adding that torrent of slighting expressions. A passionate action in a Man desperately in Love, is not perhaps a Crime so unpardonable as Mademoiselle de Guise hath judged it; but the reason is, that every thing is offensive that is done by a Lover disliked. 'Tis my Person, not my Love, displeases Mademoiselle de Guise; and the attempt I committed would not have been punished so severely in the Duke de Bellegard, as in me. You know it well enough, and cannot forget what Mademoiselle de Guise said to you on that account, in the Garden at the Castle of Nemours: That discourse was repeated to me, word by word; and I look on it as the source of all the rigour I have since met with. I will never speak of it to any but you, and shall turn all my resentment against myself, and never expect, but from death, any ease of my misfortunes: but, do me the favour to tell Mademoiselle de Guise, I am perfectly informed of all my disasters; and that this which reduced me to the despair I am in, could not have been so great, had not others preceded it.  
La Mothe had a particular esteem for Giury, and was really concerned for the condition he appeared in; she did all she could to give him some comfort. Sometimes denying, and sometimes qualifying what was said concerning Bellegard, so that it was not her fault he was not at better ease, but he was now become utterly incapable of any. The thought of Mademoiselle de Guise slighting, angry, and prepossessed in favour of a Rival, inspired him with a thousand desperate resolutions. He had much ado to force himself to speak to Madam de Guise and Madam de Nemours, but was so far Master of Passion, that they observed not in him any alteration. Yet that moment of constraint did but render his fury after more violent: he returned to the King whom he found encamped before Laon, and gave him a thousand thanks, from the Princesses for the compliment he had vouchsafed to send them. They would have made their advantage of it, had their advice been taken, but the Duke of Mayenne was so accustomed to Command in Chief, he resolved not to quit the Helm, but upon utmost extremity. The Town of Laon was taken, and the desperate Giury sought out so many occasions to be killed, that he succeeded in his design, he was wounded upon a breach, and died of it three or four days after. He knew this service would be hot, and being seriously resolved to die, writ to Mademoiselle de Guise, before he went to the assault, a Letter, the Original whereof I have seen, and give you here the Copy verbatim.  
YOu shall see, when you hear of my death, that I am a Man of my word, and that it was true I would live no longer than while I had the honour of your favour, for finding you changed, I have recourse to the sole remedy I can apply in the case, going to die unavoidably. Since heaven loves you too well to save those you would destroy, and must be at the expense of a Miracle to preserve me from the danger I am running into: that death I seek, and know waits for me, makes me put an end to this Letter. Farewell then, fair Princess; and by the despair my respect to you hath reduced me to, Judge of the power of your slights, and whether I deserved them.  
This Letter was not delivered to Mademoiselle de Guise; the man who had it to carry, having been taken prisoner by a Party of the Enemies, which is doubtless the reason it came to our hands. But the Princess needed not a sight of it to inform her what death the unfortunate Giury died. The King who was grieved at the heart for the accident, and scarce stirred from his Pillow those two or three days Giury lived after he was wounded, drew from his own mouth the Confession of his despair, and being returned to Paris complained grievously of it to Mademoiselle de Guise. You have killed me Giury, Mademoiselle, says he to her, and have more weakened my Troops by that piece of your cruelty, than the Duke of Mayenne with all the strength of his Arms. Had the favours I endeavoured to do your House made any impression of acknowledgement upon you, you would have had more regard for a man so dear and so necessary to me, but you are sufficiently punished by the loss you have of him. Nature produces not every day men of Givry's character, and what beauty soever you may boast of, you will hardly ever see at your devotion a person so considerable as he was: Mademoiselle de Guise, who for some time past had not looked with any favourable aspect on Giury, made not so much account of the loss of him. She did but smile at his Majesty's reproaches, and endeavouring to make him understand he was partly concerned in the exercise of that cruelty he blamed, her obliging Confessions insensibly wiped away the thoughts of Givry's death, out of his Majesty's mind. But nothing could have that power over the spirits of the too constant Madam Maugiron, who fell sick upon the News; and while Paris rung with joy for the absolution of the King, and union of the Parties, this Lady died with the Name of Giury in her Mouth, Giury no less amiable than inconstant and unfortunate.  
What Example more proper to make out the malignity of Love, and inspire into us that horror against it, it deserves? Giury was the most accomplished Person of his time, saw himself loaded with honour at six and twenty years of age, highly in favour with a great Monarch, his King; and in a fair way to obtain all the Dignities a Gentleman is capable of. An amorous despair destroyed all his hopes, and robbed the Kingdom of one of its Noblest Ornaments. The same Passion disordered, and at last destroyed a Lady, whose constancy and sincerity deserved better fortune. The like end commonly make all those, who absolutely abandon themselves to this fatal folly: if it makes but light impression, it is an in exhaustible source of perfideousness and ingratitude: if it be submitted to in good earnest, it leads into an excess of disorder and despair.  
FINIS.