THE COUNT d' Soissons.  
A Gallant NOVEL.  
Translated out of French.  
licenced, June 21. 1687.  
R. L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON, Printed by J. B. for R. Bently, and S. magnets in Russel-street in Covent-Garden, 1688.   

The Count De SOISSONS: A Gallant Novel.  
NEver was Prince made Recommendable by such a World of fine Qualities, as the Late Count de Soissons; I mean not him that died last, but him that was killed at the Battle of Sedan. All was answerable to the Grandeur of his Birth, and tho' he was, without Contest, of the first House of the World, 
The House of Bourbon  We may nevertheless say that his heart was Infinitely above his Birth. His Person had all the Perfections of Make, His face Majesty and Sweetness, His Wit, Niceness and Penetration; His Carriage was stately towards Princes of his own rank, but his Civility such towards Others, as that all People made their Court to him, not so much in Consideration of the favours they thence expected, as of the Pleasure there was in loving him. He was Liberal beyond Imagination, and tho' he had a vast Estate, and the finest Charge of the Court, 
Great Master of the Kings household  yet his never-failing Generosity often left him not a Penny in his Coffers.  
There are those that will needs have all these fine Qualities to have been tarnish'd by an Over-great Ambition. They ground their Opinion upon his having several times put the Court to the fatal Necessity of reducing him to his Duty by the Dint of Arms; But, alas! They knew not all that passed in Private. They were ignorant that it was Love that occasioned all the false steps he made, or the Power this Unhappy Passion has over the greatest Hearts. He was more submissive than any Man to the Kings Orders, He was thereunto obliged both in the Quality of Subject and of Relation, since he had the honour to wear the August Name of Bourbon: But it being his ill fate to have his Princes Minister for his Rival, it is not to be wondered, if the World has often to Dis-obedience imputed the things he was prompted to by the fear of a man that had little Less Power then the King himself. The Relation I am going to give, will unfold this Better than all I might be able to say here; wherefore without dwelling longer up his Justification, I imagine it will be sufficient to red this History to be persuaded, that if he was not altogether Exempt from Crime, he was at least more unfortunate than Culpable.  
We cannot say that Gallantry did at that time publicly obtain in the Court of France. The King being a Prince extremely Pious, expressed so much aversion for such sort of Weaknesses, that whoever lay under such failings, used his utmost Endeavours not only to conceal them from his Eyes, but also from the Whole Court. Beauties were, nevertheless, as Common there as at this day, there were Montbasons, Hautesorts, and several other Ladies, whose Merit was Capable of making a thousand Conquests. Nay, and their fetters were but the stronger; the reason is that Men made a Mystery of declaring their Love to them, Not but that they were very willing as well as now adays, to ease themselves of so heavy a Burden, as is a Concern of that Nature; but because they were afraid of becoming ungrateful to the King, who, as I have newly said, disapproved of all that had the name of Love.  
But the Power of Kings does not extend so far as to force Peoples inclinations, principally in this matter, wherein most commonly we have no Power upon ourselves. The Cardinal de Richelieu does sufficiently justify what I here assert; He, who was more than any man obliged to study to please the King, and who, besides, had important amuzements, that a man would never have said that he had time to make Love, did, nevertheless, find the liesure to cast his Eyes upon the duchess of Elboeuf, and as she was a Princess of a Most Extraordinary Beauty, he made her quickly sensible, that neither the Purple, nor the Quality of Chief Minister were a secure defence against her Merit.  
This Cardinal was under great Obligations to Nature, that had allotted him such infinite Parts, that he passed for the Principal Genius of the Age. If he had had as much occasion to pride himself for Advantages of Body, he would have been the first Man of the Universe. But there wanting much of th' One's being answerable to th' Other; tho' he was pretty well shaped, yet there was nothing graceful in his Deportment; Besides he was so strangely unprovided of that Majesty, so much to be desired in the Countenance, that if People had not known the station to which the King had called him, they would never have said by his Physiognomy he ought to possess so advantageous a Place. However tho' he knew it to be one of the Qualities the most necessary to please Ladies, yet either that he knew not himself, the Case of many Persons, or, in short, that he thought his Wit and Fortune were capable of repairing that Defect, he resolved no longer to languish in expectation of what he was to hope. Wherefore after having several times let her know as well by his looks, as by the most singular favours he had granted her, that he distinguished her from all the Persons of her sex, he entreated that he might see her in Private, and used as a Pretence an affair her husband had at Court.  
Madam d' Elboeuf, who had hitherto interpnted as good Breeding all he had done in her Behalf, still thinking him to be animated with the same Sentiments, she highly extolled his Carriage, so far as to say in a Numerous Company, that she knew not how this Minister came to have Enemies, since nothing could be added to his Civility. Upon this Ground she granted him the Rendezvous he required, and as he was in Possession of making no Visits, she went to his own House. As soon as he knew of her coming he went out to meet her; But with such a ruffled look, that had she minded him in the least, she might easily have guessed, that he had not his wonted serenity of mind. After he had caused a Chair to be reached her, and bid all their Attendants withdraw, Madam de Elboeuf going about to discourse upon the concern that had brought her thither; That's needless Madam, he made her answer, and what I am to tell you, is, that hitherto I have ever thought that the Place I stand possessed of, was the thing in the World the most heavy and Ungratefull. The Important solicitudes with which a mind is fretted from Morning to Evening, the repose of the Night, disturbed by affairs that arise, the fear of an ill success, which the Master most commonly lays at the Ministers Door, tho he has done his best, the jealousy of the Grandees, the Odium of the Pe ple. What more shall I say, in short, the Difficulty of giving every body content? All this I say is an ample matter to cause a Man to make reflection, that is in such a Post as mine. Nay, and I own that these Considerations had so pawl'd me, that if the King had not several times expressed to me that he desired I would continue him my services, I should infallibly have given way to the Temptation I was under of beseeching him to get another to supply my Place. But, Madam, may I dare to tell it you, the pleasure there is in sometimes having the Occasion of doing you service is so great a Blessing, that all the annoyances I have newly instanced are nothing in Comparison. Having such Sentiments it is needless for you to give me a long account of your Concerns, I make 'em my own, and in this, as in all Other things you shall see, that I value My Lady duchess of Elboeuf above all Persons in the World.  
These Words were too significative▪ to leave that ●ad● 〈…〉 to doubt of what he thereby meant. But suppose her Mind so otherwise diverted as not to apprehended their Sense, she needed only to have looked upon him to have guessed with what sentiments he was animated. His Eyes Sparkled, and the Purple he had on was not brighter than the Colour that was painted on his face. Tho' Madam de Elboeuf had an infinite stock of Wit, she had it not so ready as immediately to determine upon the answer it best became her to make. She seemed Nonpluss'd, and this Minister being in no wise sorry for that, seeing it to be occasioned only by her having penetrated into his most secret Sentiments. Wherefore thinking it behoved him to finish what he had begun; I must explain myself better Madam, he renewed, and since you are come to attack my Liberty in my very Closet, why should I conceal from you that it was a Miracle only due to the most Lovely Person Living.  
As the duchess had appeared perplexed, when she might as yet make semblanee of being unacquainted with his Passion, her Disorder was strangely augmented when she saw it to be past all Remedy. One while her spirit advised her to put him in Mind of what was owing to a Person of her Rank, another she thought convenient to dissemble on the score of the need her Husband had of him; but judging that Indulgence might be as prejudicial to her as a scornful statelyness, She took a Medium, which was to turn what he said into Raillery. Your Eminency, she made him answer, Courts your Diversion at my Cost, I never had any of these Gallantries from any other than my Lord the Cardinal, and I am so little used t'em, as that I must have been very easy of Belief, if I took the least notice of what he says to me in that matter.  
The Cardinal fearing a sharper answer, was overjoyed at this, which he interpnted to his advantage. And imagining that he had nothing more then her Incredulity to combat; Would to God, Madam, said he to her, that what you say were true; But I know the Contrary. The Duke your Husband loved you before you were his Wife, and I am much afraid that in giving yourself to him, you rather Consulted your Inclination than your Duty. Nor yet is this all I dread, those fervencies have had time to cool, that are no longer valued from the Moment that they no longer cost any trouble. I should much rather fear some happy Rival, and I am very much mistaken, if I know not one much more formidable than your Husband.  
The duchess blushed at these words, and the Cardinal interpreting this Action to the Confusion she was under at her having been detected; I have hit the Mark to a hair, he added, and is it not true, Madam, that you love your Husband far less then the Count de— He paused without thinking fit to name him, and the duchess, who had only blushed, for that she saw her self obliged to listen to another Conversation than that on whose account she came, being no longer able to endure he should thus wrong her Virtue; Proceed, said she to him, and inform me of what I know not myself, tho' I ought to know it better than any body. You'd be cautious how ye owned it to me, the Cardinal immediately retorted, a Secr●t of that Consequence is not easily communicated,& especially to a Person so much concerned in't as I. But no matter, I shall know it, in spite of all the Precautions that either of ye may take, and if the World thinks me able to penetrate into the very Cabinets of the Princes of Europe, when the King my Master's Interest is only concerned, what would I not do in an occasion that concerns my whole repose.  
Now it was somewhat an extraordinary thing, that such a Declaration as this, should at the same time be accompanied with threats. A Lover, commonly, vails his humour at the first; and that Course might, principally, be expected from his Eminency, who so well knew how to Counterfeit in all sorts of occasions. But as it is the Property of Love to lay Reason aside, it is not to be wond'red if his Conduct was so surprising. Madam d' Elboeuf knew not how to reconcile her self to this his Carriage, and though he stood upon such a Level as debarred Expostulation, she quickly changed the Resolution she had taken of Husbanding him. I stand in need of you, she said to him, but not any Consideration shall ever hinder me from causing those regards to be paid me that are my due, and it's a very pleasant business to see a man of your Character become an Inamorato, nay and of a Person of my Quality. But what I find most extrrordinary is, that you dare to offend me upon so ridiculous a Prepossession, which only you can admit into ones Imagination.  
The Cardinal was extremely surprised to see the Disdain with which she uttered these words. He used his utmost Endeavours to mollify what he had said to her, giving her to understand, that it was only thro' an excess of Love. But she proved to be as little tractable upon that word, as upon his jealousy; Insomuch that after having said several disobliging things to him, she went away without vouchsafing to harken any longer to his Justifications. The way between his Eminency's Palace and Elboeuf-Hall gave her time to recover her self from the Disorder this business had put her in. She found the Count de Soissons with her Husband, and as the latter had  told the former of her being gone to the Cardinal's Palace upon a matter of Moment to him, the first Question they both put to her, was whether she was satisfied with the Minister. Not over-well, Madam d' Elboeuf made 'em answer, and I am very much mistaken if our Concern does not miscarry. They asked her the Reason, and as she did not think convenient to boast of what was befallen her, she studied an Evasion, which she presently caused to pass currant with' em. This is strange, the Count de Soissons said, he seems to make it his whole Delight to disoblige all People, and whereas he ought to Court the Amity of Persons of our Quality, he only contrives how to injure them. He thereupon  told an occasion or two wherein himself had reason to complain of him, and the Duke d' Elboeuf was of his opinion. While they were upon this topic, word was brought the Duke d' Elboeuf that a Person asked to speak with him, and being free with the Count de Soissons, he entreated him to stay with his Wife, till he had dispatched the Concern in hand.  
The Duke being gone, the Count fell again to talk of the Cardinal, and while they were both saying several things that were not overmuch to his Advantage, a Message came to my Lady duchess d' Elboeuf that a Gentleman asked to speak with her from the Cardinal. She gave order for his being introduced, and going to meet him, that she might know what he had to say to her, he presented her a Paper, telling her, that by it she would find, that the Business was done she came upon to his Eminency. As she was not willing the Count should know the least of what had passed between 'em; Be pleased to tell him, said she to this Gentleman, that I am v●ry much obliged to him, and that Mr. d'Elboeuf and I will come to make him our acknowledgements. The Count de Soissons to make his Court to the duchess; tell his Eminency also, said he to the Gentleman, that you found me here, and that I so far espouse the Concerns of Mr. and Madam d'Elboeuf, that if I had thought I could have been useful to them in joining my Entreaties to theirs, I would have gone with 'em to solicit the favour he has newly granted them.  
The Gentleman withdrew, after having made his Leg, and the Count de Soissons who had no good opinion of the Cardinal, Let's see Madam, said he to the duchess d' Elboeuf, if matters go according to your Desire; but for my part I must own t'ye, that as he does not willingly oblige, I believe him no farther than I see him. At these words he took the Paper out of her hands that was sealed, and having broken open the Seal, without her hindering him from so doing, not thinking it contained any thing but what he might see, he found two Papers in the Cover much of the same bigness He opened the first at hand, and the first thing he red was his own Name; Insomuch that thinking he was mistaken, he viewed it more fixedly; but in short, after having red it over and over, he plainly perceived that he was more concerned in the matter than he expected. After that he had not the Curiosity to red the other, which, indeed, was not worth the trouble, since it was only the Expedition of the Affair before-mentioned: And contenting himself with this, Truly Madam, said he to this Princess, the Cardinal is much more my Friend than I imagined. You may here if you please see a thing which I should never have dared to have spoken to you of, so very powerful over my Soul was the Respect I shall ever have for you; but since the occasion is so seasonably offered, give me leave to tell you that it is impossible but that you must have taken notice of the Love I have for you, since he that is not half so much concerned in't does positively declare to you that I love you. This is a piece of Service, he added, which I shall never forget, and tho' the Passion he expresses for you himself in the same Letter ought to alarum me, I must own to you that he has freed me out of so perplexing a business for me, that to take all I bear him more good than ill will.  
In saying that, he presented the Letter to the duchess; but beside, as what had passed between his Eminency& her, made her Conjecture what he had been capable of Writing to her, he had newly  told her sufficient, as to render needless her shrifting any farther into it's Contents; I thought you, said she, so much my Friend as with me to have laughed at the Cardinal's Passion, and in case of need to have offered me your assistance against him, supposing he should make use of his Power, so as to revenge himself for the Contempt, with which I pretend to reward him. But by what I perceive, you th●nk me so silly, as to give Credit to your Discourse, as if I knew not how to discern what departs from Truth and what from Raillery. I Railly you, Madam, the Count replied; You whom I consider as the Person in the World, that in all kinds merits the most Distinction: My past Actions do they give you that Idea of me? And if you would vouchsafe to recall 'em to mind, would you not be the first to say, that you must have been very blind, if you have not been sensible that they had another source than the Amity I have for My Lord Duke your Husband? I have sucked with my Milk that the greatest Enemies we had to our Family were the Princes of his. Nevertheless I have admitted him my Confident, and I may say that I have no Secret that is so to him, unless it be that I have concealed the Passion from him that I have ever been sensible of for you But what did I say? Would to God I had ever loved you, he should never have had you, or he should first have had my Life. But you know Love has not the start of Knowledge, and that having only seen you after your Marriage, my Affection could only bear date from that time. To what then do you attribute this Reunion that was impossible without you, but you occasion much more difficult things, and after having in spite of me, made me be silent, what is there that you are not capable of bringing about?  
He would have enlarged much in his Discourse, had not the Duke return'd. His Wife, who was mightily disordered, that she might not give him time to observe her, nor the Count, who was in the like condition, presented him one of the Papers she had received from the Cardinal, and suppressed that which it was not convenient he should be informed of. He stood at gaze to see what it contained, after what his Wife had  told him a moment before, and not being able to conceal his surprise. Did not you tell me, Madam, said he to her, that we had nothing to hope, and how can so sudden a change have come about in so short a time? The Count de Soissons pretended to strike in with his Amazement, and after having reasoned thereupon, he  told him, he needed not to care how the thing came about, since he had what he demanded.  
In the mean while the Gentleman the Cardinal had sent to this duchess, being return'd to his Master, he informed him how he had found her with the Count de Soissons, and of the compliment made him by that Prince. This was no small matter of vexation to his Eminency, who had no mind he should Interest himself so far in the Dutchesses Concerns, whence he Prognosticated ill Consequences for himself. I knew very well, said he to himself, that he loved her, but I knew not that she made him the like returns. This is but too true, otherwise he would have let her make her compliments by her self, without meddling in the Matter. I have mighty Occasion, forsooth, for his acknowledgements, and why may not I resent the Obstacle he interposes to my desires.  
Nevertheless as he was less proper to make Complaints, than to contrive his ease, his lasted not long, and his whole drift was to free himself of so dangerous a Rival. Two means he fancied he had to bring this about, One to dispatch him out of the way, under Colour of giving him an Employ, th' Other of marrying him so advantageously, and with a Person so accomplished in Body and Mind, as might be capable of making him forget the duchess. However Policy thwarted both these ways. The Count, who had so great a heart, that never would buckle under him, as the rest of the Kingdom had done, made him presume that since his Conduct was such in his Present Circumstances, he would be much more haughty, when he had attained to a greater degree of Power. On another side he was not willing to give matter of jealousy to the Prince of Conde, who would not have failed to have fomented the discontent of several who boar envy to his Fortune, If be had seen him advance a Prince, who properly speaking was the greatest enemy he had. And indeed he expostulated him the Quality of Prince of the Blood, for reasons that are sufficiently known in History, and which it would be superfluous to insert in this Place.  
Thus not knowing on what to determine, he let some time slip, during which the Count de Soissons used his utmost Endeavours to see the duchess again. But she shunned him with that Care, that few People but took notice on't. Only her Husband relying, calmly, upon her Conduct, made not any reflection upon this her Carriage; On the Contrary he often brought the Count to Eat at his House, but as often as he did so, she pretended indisposition; Insomuch that the hopes vanished he had of seeing her. The Cardinal, who in matter of Love, as well as of Policy, thought there was nothing like having good spies, being informed by one he had about the duchess, that far from making returns to the Count's Passion, she avoided him with a most inconceivable Care, was in some manner solac'd for the anxious hours she made him pass himself. However experience having taught him that there is nothing impossible to a Lover that does not desist, he resolved to deliver himself out of fear, by a Proposition that seemed very advantageous for the Count, but which in the bottom, instead of advancing him, would have covered him with infamy. He had a Niece, Madam de Comballet, by Name, and who since has worn the Title of duchess d' Aiguillon. She was a Person of a singular Beauty, and if we may believe Detraction, he himself had not been able to resist her Charms, tho' nearness of Blood did forbid him to look otherwise on her than as a Relation. The scandalising Chronicle adds further, that on this account he had unwedded her from her Husband, under Colour of Impotency, and that the desire of enjoying her himself alone, had made him employ his Credit to break off that marriage. But whether all this was Detraction, or else that Enjoyment had pawl'd his Appetite, as is usual, it was upon her he cast his Eyes, to put the Change upon the Count. For this purpose he resolved to annex such great advantages to her Person, as might dazzle him, notwithstanding the vast Difference of their Births, nay& the dis-advantageous rumours that ran about to the Prejudice of her Reputation. The greatest he could annex was to make him gain the Process he had depending against the Prince of Conde, whom he pretended to have declared a Bastard, and in Consequence cause himself to be declared the First Prince of the Blood, that is to say for Presumtive Heir of the Crown, since neither the King nor the Duke of Orleans had then any Children capacitated to supply that Place.  
Such a Proposition as this was something so engaging as that he did not doubt but that it would be an Infallible Bait. Yet as the best concerns become ill in the hands of certain Persons, that know not how to manage 'em, The Cardinal gained Seneterre, the Intendant of this Princes household, a man, naturally able, and who, besides, after having acquired some Credit with his Master by several years services, let him understand, that what he could not speed in, it was not for Others to meddle withall. And indeed expecting to be received with open arms: Good News, cried he, as soon as he saw the Count, and this Prince asking him what he meant; Why, answered he, your Process, if you please yourself is Won, and what is more, I bring you tidings of a beautiful Wife, and of a support that cannot fail you upon Occasion. The Count hearing him talk at this rate, imagined he had Letters to deliver him from some foreign Prince that desired his alliance,& full of Impatience to know from whom it might be, he named certain Princes to him, that were' of the Number of his friends. We have no need of going so far, then Seneterre said to him, and when you find all this in Cardinal Richelieus alliance, why should you think of People that at most can only give you fine Promises, and when it shall come to Execution, cannot be in a Condition to perform them. But for his part, added he, can he promise you any thing, but what he can do a thousand fold more? He need only speak to the Parliament, to make it pass an Arrest in your favour: Besides he holds all the Forces of the Kingdom in his Power, Insomuch that when you shall have occasion for them, nothing will fail you. In fine, what shall I say to you? the Crown, if you please, is at your Disposal, and all that he requires, is, that you would mary Madam de Comballet, that he may be, henceforward, assured of your being his Friend. I mary Madam de Comballet, the Count answered all in amaze, and all in a rage at the same time! What the Mistress of her own Uncle, the Mistress of a Priest, a Sacrilegious, an Incestuous Wretch, and in a word, the shane of the whole Realm, and of all human kind! I say nothing of her Birth, the one makes me omit the other, but my greatest subject of amazement is, that Seneterre, whom I thought mine, should be such a traitor as to make me such a Proposal. Seneterre would have replied, nay and make him apprehended that he would find his Advantage in the Overture he made him; but the Count losing Patience, commanded him to hold his peace. And for that he would, nevertheless, continue speaking, he gave him some blows with his Cane, and then turned him out of his Family.  
This business made a great noise in the World, those that knew the Count's great heart, imputed it to his high Spirit, and to tell the truth it was in some manner, the occasion. But for all that, the Love he had for the duchess contributed more thereunto than all other things. It's needless to say how angry the Cardinal was at him, it is easy to apprehended, that he that saw all the Grandees buckle under his Will, did, impatiently, bear such Instances of Contempt. Yet tho' he had such a mighty flock of Vanity, and must for that reason have been terribly mortified, we may, however, assert, that jealousy was the thing that created him the most trouble. He imagined, and not without ground, that the duchess shared deep in this refusal, and tho' he could not reconcile this thought, with the account continually given him by his Spies, that he stood not in overgood terms with her, it, nevertheless, made deep impressions in his mind.  
For surplusage of Misfortune he intercepted a Letter the Count writ her, wherein he gave her an exact account of the Conversation he had had with Seneterre, and wherein he did not omit to repre-present the offers that had been made him, of causing him to be declared not only First Prince of the blood, but, likewise, to give him what share he pleased in the Administration of the Kingdom, of which the Minister obliged himself to cause him to be owned as Presumptive Heir by all the Grandees, nay and by all the Parliaments. Yet for the Love of her, would he not in any wise close hands with such alluring Offers. That, true indeed, he had used as a pretext, Madam de Comballets ill reputation, of whom, perhaps, all the Stories that had gone about were only Calumny, but which he was willing, nevertheless, to make pass for as many Truths, that so he might have his Ears no longer dinn'd with an Affa●r to which he could not harken, as he had hinted, for her sake. Furthermore that he thought her too shrewd a Person to believe that tho' he were persuaded of the Ladies Debauchery, it would have been capable of making him refuse her. That a thousand Princes before him had shew'd him the way, and among those crwoned Heads; So true it is that Ambition serves for an excuse to the greatest Defects. That nothing but Love could have done this Miracle, a Miracle so much the greater, as that the matter in agitation was not a mere Establishment, but the greatest Crown in the Universe.  
Such were the Contents of this Letter, upon which it is easy to guess the excess of the Personages jealousy. He sent for the Spy he had about the duchess, and making him red it: You see now, said he to him immediately. if I ought not to have thee hanged for the false accounts thou giv'st me. Thou hast hitherto assured me that he got no ground with her, and yet he makes her a Sacrifice of his Refusals. What greater token can there be of their Refusals? and must not I be the most Unfortunate of all men? The Spy did what he could to excuse himself, and wanted not good Reasons. He said that by this Letter, it was plain that the Count endeavoured to insinuate into the duchess, that it was for her sake he had refused so fair a Fortune; but that this did not imply that the Sacrifice was grateful to her: That the worst used Lovers were those that were to study the best reasons to gain the Confidence of their Mistresses; but that once obtained, it was not seen that their Letters entertained 'em with such riff-raff stuff: That if the Count stood as well with the duchess as his Eminency pretended; his Letter would have been quiter in another style: That it would have been made up of Raillery, in lieu of those Amorous terms, and if any such had been let fall, they would have been only by the by.  
These Reasons would have been good to any man that had had his mind at liberty enough as to apprehended them; But the Cardinal walking hastily as if he had received some Currier that had brought him the News of the loss of some great battle: Ah! if he had not been afraid of furnishing matter of talk to his Enemies, he would have done much more. But in short, the care of ones repute is a thing more perplexing than many do imagine. How many People are there that are thereby kept within bounds, and who in the bottom of their Soul do not think the less? It is upon this bottom, that Moliere raised his Tartuff, and if he had been upon the Scene at the time I speak of, perhaps he would not have waited so long.  
In the mean while the Spy was dismissed, and far from causing him to be hanged, as he had at first threatened to do, he made him a large Present that he might continue him his Service. Then went he directly to the King, whither he was called by an Affair of Moment: and as he was full of his Passion; Yes, Sir, he said to him, you must make him lose his Process, and if your Majesty should proceed to Declare in his favour, he would afterwards drive you from off your Throne. The King understood well enough that he meant the Count de Soissons; but as far from having said any thing that had relation to his Person, they had quiter another matter in hand, he was mightily surprised at this sally. The Cardinal plainly perceived by the Kings Countenance that some Novelty was depending, and the Words I have repeated, having started from him, without his making the least reflection, he asked him what he revolved in his mind. It's for me to ask you, the King made him answer, what you revolve in yours, whence it comes that you interrupt our Discourse to speak of the Count de Soissons. I, I thought not of him, the Cardinal answered, and your Majesty must needs be mistaken. I am not mistaken, the King retorted, and if you have received any Advertisement of Consequence, why d'ye any longer defer imparting it to me? The Cardinal still retrencht himself upon the Negative, and as he was taxed with having little Vertigo's ever and anon, during which he was wont not to appear in public, the King imputed all this to their coming upon him, and dismissed him sooner than he would otherwise have done.  
In the mean time Mr. d'Elboeuf had all he desired of him, and those that were not informed of the end of things, could not apprehended whence he acquired so much favour. The Cardinal did several times invite him to come and see his fine House of rule, and bid him bring his Wife along, and his Children too that it seemed as if he would take his whole Family into his Protection. If Madam d'Elboeuf had dared, she would have desired her Husband to have dispensed her from going; but that not being to be done, without letting him know, what it's fit a Husband should ever be a Sranger to, she suffered her self to be lead along to that Stately House, where they met with the best Entertainment imaginable from the Cardinal. His Eminency had also invited thither the Sieur Desnoiers Secretary of State, the Person that after him had the greatest share in the Affairs of the Kingdom. Not that he meant to regule him, or had any thing of Moment to impart to him; But you must know that the Duke of Elboeuf had a Concern in the Council, of which it was convenient that Mr. Desnoiers should be thoroughly informed, and as he was commonly overwhelmed with Affairs, the Duke had not yet been able to find the means of discoursing him particularly upon that matter. Now as the Cardinal had his Designs, he started the business, and as it was a matter of long Discussion, he bid Mr. Desnoiers go into a Closet where he would find a Pen and Ink, to make an Extract of all Mr. d' Elboeuf had to say to him. This Prince took as a mark of goodness, what was nevertheless only the effect of a self-Interested Lover. Madam d' Elboeuf plainly perceived the meaning of this, and would, perhaps, have contrived to parry the blow, by following her Husband: but he prevented her Design, by telling Mr. d'Elboeuf, that while he was Closetted up with Mr. Desnoiers he would play a Game at Chess with his Lady. Mr. d'Elboeuf, who made a scruple of leaving him all alone, was overjoyed that he himself proposed him the means of not being uncivil, and having shut himself up with Mr. Desnoiers, he left him all the freedom he desired.  
Madam d'Elboeuf seeing her self all alone with him( for he had nodded to his People to go out after having set the Chess-men upon the Table) became as read as fire, which the Cardinal perceiving, Certainly, Madam, he said to her, you must needs hate me, as much as I love you, since you are as much in pain in being with me, as I have pleasure in being with you. Nevertheless I had ever heard say, that Hatred was not the fruit of Amity, and that on the contrary the means to render one's self agreeable, was to have for a Person the Sentiments I have for you. But, by what I perceive, my Unhappyness is such, that what is the Lot of others, is not mine; and that Nature must first run Counter before that I can be happy. If you make your happiness consist, Madam d Elboeuf answered him faintly, in being beloved by me, I frankly own that you never will be happy. Nay and it is strange you dare to offend me in this Case, you who know my Duty, and by Consequence cannot invite me to fail in it, at least without showing the little Consideration you have for me. What, Madam, you n●●●●proch me withal, is no Crime, he answered, or at least, if it be one, it is so on the account of its being annexed to my Person. If it were the Count of Soissons that held you the like discourses, the thing would change its Nature. We know very well that you are not altogether so Cruel to him; Yet, if I durst say it, it is an effect of your little judgement: I can do as much as he, tho' I am no Prince, and in Case you were in any wise wedded to Ambition, I should much more than he turn to your account. But what do I say, I am not so happy as to have any Consideration enter into the Love you bear him. If you love him, it is only because he seems lovely to you, whereas it is my ill luck to have you hate me, because you think me the Most Odious of all Men.  
Madam d'Elboeuf who had only hitherto looked with indifference upon the Count de Soissons was terribly scandalized that he dared to tell her to her Face that she loved any other then her Husband. She put on her serious looks, but he to whom jealousy represented as so many Truths all that whirled his fancy. Be angry, Madam, or not angry, he said to her, that shall not make me believe the more or less. I have good Proofs in my Pocket of what I now say, and when matters stand so, would you have me belie such certain. Testimonies as those, for Words that you think yourself obliged to say for your Reputation. A discourse of this Nature was still aggravating his Offence; and indeed it having scandalized Madam d' Elboeuf still more then before; This is too much, said she to him all in anger, and pray'e, tell me what you mean by those Proofs you have in your Pocket. A Letter Madam, the Cardinal replied, since you will needs know it, but a Letter that speaks and against which you have nothing to allege. She presently imagined he meant to accuse her of having written it, and as she well knew the Contrary, If you show me that, she said to him, I'll allow of all you please, but that as I know that cannot be, I think it very strange, you should make use of this Imposture, in all probability to force my secret from me, supposing I had one. This is no Imposture, Madam, the Cardinal replied, 'tis matter of Fact, and of which you yourself are going to be a Witness. I have the Letter as I  told you in my Pocket, and there needs no more then my taking it out. The duchess without affording her self the time to see it, thinking that he meant that it was she that had writ it, It must be forged then, she retorted, and as I know you capable of such a forgery, you must not take it ill if I tell you that my Suspicions only center in your Person.  
These words, which let the Cardinal see, the little esteem she had for him, had like to have made him mad. I use not, Madam, said he to her, any of those sort of Tricks, and my Misfortune is but too real and too True. At these Words he presented her the Letter, we have been talking of, and the duchess seeing it a hand very different from hers. What's the meaning of all this? said she to him, and did you not tell me that your were a going to show me a Letter of mine: I said no such thing, the Cardinal made answer, but that I would show you a Love-Letter that was written to you. Do but open it, he added, and you will see, that it is not Love that you Shun, but the Persons that Love you, when they are so dis-agreeable to you as I am. Tho' nothing could be more dis-obliging then this reproach, the duchess nevertheless, was much less sensible to it, then to the pleasure of seeing that she was under Cover from those forgeries, which as gross as they were, do however sometimes create trouble. Lets see, said she to him, in much colder blood, than in Probability she was like to be in, whence this Love-Letter comes to us, for my part I know not who can have Written it to me,& still less, who can have made use of a style, by which one may guess of our good Correspondence. At these words she opened t●●●●●ter, whose hand she was a stranger to, but she could not disown it to be from the Count de Soissons, which was manifest from the Signing, which was really his.  
This was the Letter, I before mentioned. Thus it would be needless to renew what it contained, since I acquitted myself of that before. This I may say, that it was fatal to the Cardinal to serve his Rival instead of injuring him. I said before that he it was that had occasioned his having dared to declare his Passion to Madam d' Elboeuf. It was also he, who by obliging that Lady to red this letter, caused her to make reflection that this Prince must needs be in love to refuse the Advantages that were offered him by the Marriage of Madam de Comballet. Tho' she was in the Presence of a jealous Man, who examined her, as I may say, to the bottom of her soul, she in a moment  told her self a thousand things to the Count's advantage, and it so much the more startled her, as that she was wont to make a scruple of those that would not have been of any Consequence for Others. However not being so far sunk into these sorts of reflections, but that she had the Judgement left to see that she was to answer the Cardinal upon this Letter, she let him see the injustice of his Accusation, since if it had been true, that she had been in as good terms with the Count as he had supposed, he would have written to her in other terms than he did.  
Two or three hours slipped away in this and the like Altercations, with which the Cardinal had no greater reason to be satisfied. At the end of that time, the Duke d'Elboeuf, who had given his Memoirs to Mr. Desnoiers, return'd, and thus changed the Conversation. If that Prince had had the least suspicions, he had needed only to have eyed either of them, to see that they had Concerns in their heads; but being far from any such thought, he proposed to the Cardinal the going to see the Water-works Play, and his Eminence fearing he might discover his Disorder in Conversation, was overjoyed that he had this Curiosity, that so he might come off from that bad step.  
Then the Duke return'd to Paris with his wife, and some days after the duchess of Savoy sent a courier to the King to entreat him to sand her the Queens Picture in Miniature, with that of all the Ladys of the Court. She meant to put them in a Cabinet, which she had caused to be made on purpose in one of the Duke of Savoys Country-houses; and she had made the like Request at all the Courts of Europe, that so without stirring from her own home, she might see all that was beautiful in Europe. The King was far from denying the duchess this. A Painter came from Italy, who drew all these ladies, and their portraits being finished, the King took a view of them, then put 'em into the couriers hands, who was come to Paris on purpose to fetch' em. All the Princes and Grandees of the Court, found not any handsomer than that of Madam D'Elboeuf, and that princess added a Box of Diamonds thereunto, which she was very willing to make a Present of to the duchess of Savoy. The Count De Soissons and the Cardinal who had done all they had been able with the Painter to get him draw a Second by it, but which he had excused himself from, upon his not drawing any Copies, and that Madam D' Elboeuf would not consent that he should draw two Originals, they resolve to have it at any rate whatever. The Cardinal, who was all full of finesse, invented a means for that purpose, which he thought indubitable, which was to have the courier robbed, when he was passing through a Wood. For this purpose he sent Spies abroad and they were to wait his coming in the forest of Fontainebleau.  
As concerning the Count de Soissons, he managed his design with less artifice, on the evening before the couriers Departure, he went to him incognito,  told him it should be his own fault if he did not make his fortune, and to shorten matters he offered him ten Thousand Crowns ready Cash, if he would give him Madam D'Elboeufs Picture. Such offers are very capable of tempting a Miserable courier, he said he was willing, and resolved to say when once arrived in Savoy, that he had been robbed on the way. This Bargain being thus struck, the courier departed the next day, and when he was in the forest of Fontainbleau, four Horse-men surrounded him,( being those of the Cardinals) and asked to search his male. There are those that do not love such sorts of Encounters, nay and that Number must be reduced to very few, since all People are of this Opinion; but this man having his reasons not to be of the taste of all others, opened his Male with mighty Satisfaction, letting them see that he carried neither Gold nor Silver, but things indeed of greater value. They examined Every portrait in its turn, and not finding that they sought for: Where is then that of Madam D'Elboeufs they asked him? He perceived by this Question by Whom they had been sent, and as he was afraid of Violence, he made them answer that they came too late, if they only sought for that: That he had met with such Other Sparks as themselves, in the Plain of Song-boiou that has seized on it, on which account he had been upon the point of returning to Paris to make his Complaint. In the mean while that he knew very well why so many People were so fond of that Picture, that it was on the account of the Box, which, however, those that had taken it might repent of; since such things, commonly discovered such like Persons.  
If the courier had had to do with real Robbers, he would have been Cautious how he had talked in this manner; but as he knew those to whom he spoken, he was willing to give a loose to his Wit, which they were much less concerned at, than at their having sped so ill in the Commission that had been given them. In the mean while, they really believed all that he  told them of the loss of the Picture, remaining Persuaded that it was the Box that occasioned his being robbed. Full of this Imagination they return'd back to give an Account to the Cardinal; but this Minister being cunninger then they,  told 'em they were fools, and that if the Courier had really lost the Picture, he would not have failed to have return'd to Paris, tho' it were only for the sake of the Box. Thereupon he caused a Person to be called in in whom he put great Confidence, bid him take the Best of his Horses, go instantly in pursuit of the courier, and if he could overtake him, to clap a Pistol to his throat, to make him Confess what he had done with the Picture. This Person departed immediately, and Spurring his Horse at the first, he went Thirty Leagues in Six hours time; which was an Extraordinary Expedition; and which he must have fallen much short of, had he taken Post. But at length his Horse being not able to go any further, he was obliged to take Post, and leave him in an Inn.  
However the time which the others had spent in returning to Paris, having afforded the Courier a great advance, he arrived at lions Six hours before the other could get thither, and as when one is got thither it requires but little time to get out of the Kingdom, He that the Cardinal had dispatched stopped there judging it then too late to pursue the other. As much as he had been fed with hopes in his going, as full was he of sadness in returning; for, in short, he knew the Cardinal, who without doing any justice, would have those he employed to remain responsible for Unhappy Events. And indeed, he was no sooner arrived, but that his Eminency having known that he had missed his aim, he commanded him never to come more into his sight, as if it had been his fault. Every One was curious to know of this Man, what occasioned his Disgrace; but as he was still in hopes of being re-instated, he was cautious of blabbing, after which he had been lost past recovery.  
The duchess of Savoys Courier being return'd to her, this Princess, who had received a Letter of Civility from Madam D' Elboeuf upon the Pourtraict-Box she sent her, asked him what was become of it, as well as the Picture. To which the Courier made answer, that he had been robbed of both in the forest of Fountaine-Bleau, and that he had Witnesses of it. These Witnesses were People that had passed, when he was stopped, and these having in their passing seen how he was made to open his Mail, he had run after them, when he was again at Liberty, that they might give their Evidence upon time, and Occasion. The duchess of Savoy was much vexed at this Adventure, not so much, however, in Consideration of the Box, as of the Picture. Nevertheless as the thing might be retrieved, she gave Madam D, Elboeuf notice of the Couriers b●d rencontre, entreating her that she would remedy it, by causing her self to be drawn anew. The Spy, the Cardinal had about the duchess, informed him of what passed, and his Eminency was very much surprised to hear that the Courier affirmed the portrait to have been taken from him in the forest of Fontainbleau. He sent immediately to seek out those whom he had given order to go thither, and having asked them the meaning of all this, he knew by their answer, that the Courier must needs have disposed of it himself, and that he had been glad to reject the thing upon them, for the Concealing of his Roguery. The witnesses he had called upon that Occasion, nay and whom he had caused to sign a Paper, which he had put into the duchess of Savoys hands, confirmed him strongly in this Opinion; and as he was persuaded that he had disposed of it in favour of no other than of the Count De Soissons, the first time he met that Prince; I should never have thought, said he to him, after a Drolling manner, that you would have given Occasion of Complaint to a beautiful Lady. Madam D' Elboeuf will needs have it, that you have her Picture, and she is not at all satisfied that you detain it against her will. Madam D' Elboeuf, the Count made him answer, has no such thought of me, and she rather believes it to be the Person that has discoursed her of Love, and has had the Boldn●ss to express his jealousy to her by a Letter.  
These Words absolutely unhinged the Cardinal; he was ignorant of his having discovered his Intrigue by the Letter I mentioned while ago, and thin●ing it to be Madam D' Elboeuf that had imparted it to him: Madam D' Elboeuf has re●son, he said to him, to confided a Secret in you, and discreet as you are, it was impossible she could put it into better hands. Madam D' Elboeuf the Count made answer, does not pretend to make a Secret of that, It is only a Secret when things please, and I should loose above half of the Esteem I have for her, if she had the least taste for that I speak of.  
Then he went away and left the Cardinal so picqu'd, that he was not to be known again. And indeed, however great his wit was, it was too much at a time for him to have a Rival that slighted him in his own Presence, and a mistress by whom he thought himself sacrificed. Affairs of State went not the better, during his being in this Perturbation of mind, and as he knew himself incapable of directing them in due manner, as long as his mind was in that Scite, he counterfieted Sickness for two or three days, and would have done so much longer, if he had not been relieved by a desire of revenge which he thought in his Power to Exert. I have said that the duchess of Savoy had entreated Madam d' Elboeuf to sand her her Picture a-new, they were actually at work upon it, and he gave his spies order to give him Notice when it was sinisht, and by whom it was to be sent into Savoy. The Spy having performed his Commission, the Cardinal caused two men to be ready to take Post at the same time as he that was Encharg'd with it, and that no body might have notice of the Robbery he pretended to Commit, he commanded them to follow him to the very frontiers of Savoy. There they seized him, and that they might not give him any Occasion to believe that they only aimed at the Picture, they likewise took all his Money away. The Courier, who was a Savoyard, being arrived at the other Post, made his Complaint to the Justice, but as he had no Money to have the Robbers pursued, they return'd in all safety to Paris, where the Cardinal gave each of them a thousand Pistols, for a Reward of their Pains.  
The duchess of Savoy knowing the Accident that was again befallen the Courier, did not think Convenient to re-demand a new Picture, and the rather as being in hopes of repairing suddenly her self into Dauphine, to Confer with the King her Brother. She was then in hopes to see Madam D' Elboeuf, and acquaint her her self with what fatality she had been deprived of her hopes, entreating her to remedy it by a new Present.  
In the mean while, the Cardinal having the Picture in his hands, sent for the Man of most repute in Paris for making of Boxes, and having caused him to enter into his Closet, he  told him that he would make his fortune, if he had the Wit to do him a Service he desired of him. The Man did not fail to promise him all things, and the Cardinal being assured of his Good Will; You must then, said he to him, make me a Picture-Box, the richest you ever made, and Expose it to the Eyes of those that come to see you, until that the Count de Soissons be enform'd of it. He will, doubtless, have the curiosity to know whose it is; but have a Care how you tell it him; Excusing yourself upon it's being absolutely forbidden you, and that it belongs to a Person so Considerable, that you should be undone without recovery, if you failed in what he had Commanded you. show him only, but after several Importunities, and that he shall have Sworn to you that he will never mention it to any Body, the Picture I mean to put into it; and at the same time he gave him that of Madam D' Elboeuf.  
The Man having promised him to do all he Commanded him, he gave him to the value of two hundred thousand Crowns in Diamonds, with which he was minded the Box should be enriched, recommending to him never to cease working. The work-man laid all other business aside for this; and those that set him to work, pressing him to serve them, he  told them that it was impossible; that he had something to do for a Person, of such great Consideration, that he was obliged to work for him to the prejudice of all the World. People had the curiosity to know, what this business was, and for whom it might be, to which he answered, that it was a Box of Diamonds; but that as f●r the Person he was forbidden to name him. If the King had been a Prince Gallant, People would have believed not only by this man's Discourse; but by the worth of the Diamonds, which he shew'd to all comers, that it was for him he worked; but as that Prince lead a Life altogether retired; and that besides Kings are too much exposed to the Eyes of the public, to have any Intrigue out of the Verge of their knowledge, they were obliged to let their suspicions fall upon another. In the mean while, all Paris was quickly full of this business, and it being come to the Ears of the Count de Soissons, he fancied, that since he knew the Jeweller, and whom he commonly set to Work, that he would not be so Mysterious with him. In confidence of this, he went to him, and after having asked him to see that Rarity, which made such a noise in the World, he was himself induced to admire it, not so much on the account of the Richness of the Diamonds, as of the Miniature which was admirable. This is very fine, truly, said the Count to him, and if the Picture that is to be in it has something proportionate, We must needs own that nothing can be comparable to it. And that too is beyond all doubt; the Jeweller repartee'd; But tho' it were not so, Your Highness knows very well, that Lovers ever esteem their Mistresses. By this answer, I judge, the Count de Soissons replied, that the Lady does not merit this expense; but thou speakest very just, in saying, that what pleases us is ever the handsomest to us. I said not that, the Workman answered, with Relation to the Lady here in Question; as she appears the most Beauteous to the Eyes of him that set me to Work, she will also appear so doubtless to all those that shall see her. For my part I own that I never saw any thing that ravished me more, and if I was King, I believe he that employs me would have a dangerous Rival in me. By what I perceive, the Count retorted, you do not then work for him. I thought from the Vastness of the expense, that he only was capable of it; but since I am Mistaken, you must needs tell me for whom it is. That is impossible, the Workman made answer, I have made Oath not to reveal the least tittle; and besides, the being thereunto bound by my Conscience, it concerns no less than my Life. What, the Count repartee'd, Cannot I then secure thee, and when thou shalt say that I it was that obliged thee thereunto, dost thou not think, that they will be very Cautious, since it is not the King, how they exercise any Violence upon thee. I know Sir, the Workman replied, the respect all the World ought to have for you; but you'll be pleased to give me leave to tell you, that whatever protection you may grant me, my Life would not be in safety, if I had broken the Secret I had promised.  
The more the Workman enlarged in the like Discourse, the more it flushed the Counts Curiosity to discover this Mystery; but what augmented it the more is, that hearing him talk in this manner, he began to entertain a Suspicion that it might be the Cardinal. He thought that he only could be dreaded to such a Degree as to slight the Protection of a Prince of the Blood; joined to this, that he only could put Jewels of such great Value upon a Picture Case.  
All this Confirming him still more and more in his Opinion, he did all he could to tear the Secret from the Jeweller; but he being cautious of going beyond his orders; continuing still upon the Defensive, the Count contented himself with asking him to see the Picture. The Jeweller waved doing it for some time. At the long run, as if he had yielded partly to his entreaties, and partly to several great promises he made him, he went to fetch a little trunk that contained what he required. The Count full of impatience, snatched it out of his hands, with the key, and opening it himself, he found at the top, a Picture in a Chagreen Case. He asked the Jeweller if that was what he sought for, and the other having answered him in the affirmative, he undid two little Claps that hindered him from seeing that Picture. As soon as he had cast his eyes upon it, he had like to have let it fall, so strangely seized was he, and beginning to eye the Workman: What's this I see, said he to him, and is it possible that the Case thou art making is for the Picture I have in my hands? It is for the very same Sir, the Jeweller made answer, But whence proceeds such a surprise, since your Highness might well imagine that it was for a Person whose Condition was Equal to her Beauty.  
The Count did not think Convenient to tell him through what Motive he was so affencted; but detaining the Picture; Make me no longer any mystery of the matter, said he to the Jeweller, I know as well as thee Who set thee to work, and since it is the Cardinal, go tell him from me, that as I know him Unworthy of the favour the Duchess D' Elboeuf has done him, I do not pretend he shall enjoy it. Tell him also that he be very careful never to let this business be known, which would ruin that Princesse's Reputation; I own that after so shameful a Choice in her, she does not deserve it should be in any wise spared; but if I do it, it is perhaps, more in Consideration of her Husband than of her. After all, if he is so hardy as to do any thing to the Prejudice of what I Signify to him, he shall be answerable for it to me.  
The Jeweller was very much surprised when he heard him talk in this manner: He had indeed, order to show him the Picture, but not to let him take it. Thus already thinking himself undone, he threw himself at the Counts feet, conjuring him to take pity of him. But this Prince whom jealousy did not allow to grant him his request, went out at the same time, giving him no other comfort then the telling him, that he was in Security sufficient being under the Cover of his name. The Jeweller all trembling went directly to the Cardinal, acquainted him how the thing had passed, and letting him understand, that having to do with a Prince of the Blood, it was impossible for him to do in his regard, what he would have done in regard of any Other. In the mean while the Poor man was under a Mortal Apprehension how he would treat him after this, but he was as greatly surprised, when instead of seeing him burst out into menaces, he saw him burst out into a great fit of Laughter. So much the Better, the Cardinal said to him at the same time, Nothing more acceptable could have befallen me, and all I expect of thee is, thou wouldst tell the Count, that I have threatened thy Life, unless thou bring'st me back my Picture. I know very well, added he, that all Thou canst say to him will be ineffectual: but again no matter, provided he thinks me much more angry than I am.  
The Jeweller not expecting to have come off at so easy a rate, promised him all he had a mind to, and the Cardinal having instructed him more at length of what he was to do, he went to find out the Count De Soissons, and  told him, there was no safety for him, at least without bringing back the Picture. Whereupon he made all the faces and Grimaces requisite to work upon him, but the Count, who would sooner have given his Life than have restored it, made him answer, that it was all in vain he thus tormented himself; that he advised him as a friend not to insist upon it any longer, and to contrive some expedient to get himself off from the business. Nevertheless to appease him, he made him a present of a Thousand Pistols, telling him, that had he finished his work, he would not perhaps, have got so much. The workman pretended to be very much vexed, but nevertheless was not such a fool as to refuse the money. He took it however Conditionally, and repairing again to the Cardinal, he was by him recompensed still more largely than by the Count, for having acted his part so well.  
The duchess D' Elboeuf was all this while ignorant of this Comedy, which to her would have been mighty matter of Vexation, since upon the noise it might make, she was not sure but that her Husband might possibly interpret things in the worst Sense. Nevertheless, she wanted not matter of trouble, since the Cardinal had shew'd her the Letter before-mentioned. She had made such reflections upon the Counts Person and Passion, as began to Entangle her. She, who before had only looked upon him as a Person indifferent, found occasion to look upon him with more Attention. His refusal of Madam de Comballet, to whose Person so many Grandeurs were annexed, appeared to her an Instance of Love so much the more extraordinary, as that Persons of his Birth, do suffer themselves to be absolutely governed by their Ambition. Whereupon she  told her self, that for the Love of her, he not only renounced the Quality of first Prince of the blood; but likewise to the Crown, that seemed reserved for him that should possess that Quality. And, indeed, since that, as I have already said, neither the King, nor the Duke of Orleans his Brother, had any Children capable of Succeeding them, it is beyond Contest that tho' at all times it is a great advantage to be the first Prince of the blood, it was a thing of much greater Moment at that Juncture.  
Nothing is there so dangerous in a woman as the making of these sort of reflections: Tho' they do not absolutely level her Virtue, yet they so stagger it, that upon the least jog afterwards she runs a great risk of being undone. The Duchess being not ignorant of the Precipice before her, did all that was possible for her to avoid it. She set her Husbands Merit in opposition to that of her Love; and to lend her self Forces, she endeavoured to represent to her Heart that there was not so much Difference between them two, as that she ought to be susceptible of the Impressions that tormented her. Not content with thus representing her Duty to her self, she shunned such occasions as might ruin the Resolution she had taken of conserving her self wholly to her Husband. wherever she feared meeting the Count, she kept a-loof off as from a Contagious Place. She knew that what Preseryes Innocence, is avoiding the Occasion. Yet this Course was very incommode to her, and the Queen began already to complain that she no longer came to the circled with the other Ladies of her Quality.  
But how could she repair thither, unless she was minded to see the Count? He who seeing her in no place, thinking that she could not, at least, dispense her self from making her Court to the Queen, went daily to that Princess's Lodgings, where he did all that was possible to conceal the ill humour he was in, as well because he found her not there, as because since the adventure of the Picture, he was possessed that the Cardinal stood in better terms with her then any body. What still augmented his suspicion was, that Mr d' Elboeuf often obliged her to go to his Eminencies House, where he had business still depending; and tho' this Princess would have been glad to have been dispensed from going thither after what had befallen her, yet she durst not tell him the Reasons she had for such a reluctance, because that must not only have ruined the Interests of their Family, but likewise because that all those sorts of things are never grateful to a Husband. Being possessed with these Sentiments, she made her visits as short as was possible for her; But had she done no more than go in and out, the Count coming to know it, it was sufficient to sink him into Despondency: What still further confirmed him that there was a good understanding between them, was that the Cardinal granted the Duke D' Elboeuf a favour which he had long refused him, and which indeed, was not so much as justice. He at the same time imagined it to be the reward of the Compleisance the duchess had for him, and could not sufficiently admire how the Duke D' Elboeuf, who was a generous Prince, and all full of honour, did not open his eyes upon his Infamy.  
Being in this anxiety, all his hopes aimed at getting a particular Conversation with Madam D' Elboeuf wherein to reproach her with the shameful pference she gave the Cardinal to his Prejudice. It had not been so strange to him had she inviolably maintained her fidelity to her Husband; but to be faithless to him for a man of the Cardinals mein and Character, is what he could not bear. Being possessed with such like Sentiments, he redoubled his care to meet her, but being as little able to effect it as before, he imagined that she shunned him out of fear of Creating a jealousy in the Cardinal, and that if he made semblance of Loving any other than she, that he should possibly speed better in his Intentions. It was sufficient for him that he had conceived this thought to execute it; Nevertheless, as People ever flatter themselves in whatever estate they be, he would not that the Person he had in his eye to serve to his Designs, should be of the number of those that may Envy a man for being inconstant. On the Contrary he choose her with so little merit and Beauty, that it was a wonder People did not find out there was only disguise in this business. His reason was, that he was not willing that a Maid that might have a thousand good Qualities, should have Occasion to reproach him that he had made her to serve for a Laughing-stock to the whole Court: Besides that he  told himself that since the duchess might perchance, fall off from the Passion he imputed to her for the Cardinal, he ought not to bar his admittance into her heart.  
The she on whom he cast his eyes was Mademoiselle de Chaumont, Maid of honour to the Queen, a Person in truth of one of the Best Families in the Kingdom; but in whom all the other Qualitys were wanting saving Birth. First of all in respect of what was seen, she had all the reason imaginable to Complain of nature: Far from being beautiful, and well made: she had a face and a shape, that warranted her from ever being the occasion of an amorous ruin. As for the one she was short and thick; and as for the other, she rather resembled a Man then a woman. Besides she was Crimsonfac'd and Copper nosed. And yet if neatness had been her talent, One might have said that she had not been voided of all sorts of good Qualities: But as if she had delighted in being ridiculous in all things; she ever dressed her self like a Country Gentlewoman, for which her Companions rallying her one day before the whole Court, the Queen, who was one of the Best-natur'd Princesses in the world; Forbear this, Mesdemoiselles, said she to them, Chaumont ought to be so far from being your Laughing-stock, that I will have you to know that she does you honour. If you doubt it, I must tell you that she has an Advantage, which none of you will ever have, which is, that she has the honour to be related to the King.  
Such an Expression as this, and coming from the Queens own Mouth, stopped all farther Drolling, how ridiculous soever she might appear in the eyes of all People. In the mean while the Count De Soissons was not Sorry at this Circumstance, that so it might at least be said that if he did not Love a Maid of Merit, he loved one of Quality. As soon as his Designs appeared in the Eyes of the Court, not a Person was there, that was not surprised: They imagined that thinking himself above the Queens Correction, he was minded to divert himself for a day or two; and that this Intrigue would quickly be at an End: But seeing that time Expired and he still continuing to seek out Mademoiselle de Chaumont, to take her aside, and whisper in her Ear, and in short to do all that a man is wont to do when he loves a Nymph, they were obliged to shrug their Shoulders, as People commonly do, when they cannot find out the reason of what they see. And indeed, all that can be said to this is, that Wisdom being none of the Inamorato's Province, it is not to be wondered that the Count de Soissons had laid it so much aside. The thing was  told to the Queen, who had already perceived it her self, and who knowing the weakness of the Sex, would have stopped the Course of it at the same Moment, but that she was very willing to mortify her other Maids who after having slighted Chaumont so very much, were hearty vexed to see her have a Lover of that Rank.  
In the mean while, this Maid neither of Rock nor Brass, having taken fire at this Princes Discourses, she made some Assignations with him, wherein perchance, several things would possibly have passed, had he been minded to improve the Disposition he met withall to receive so deep an Impression in her mind. But he being far from any such thought, did in all those Occasions comport himself so secreetly, that saving the Noise it made among her Companions, she came off thence as found and as whole as she went thither. These Maids being discreet after the mode of Courtiers, did not fail to proclaim it on all Occasions, and Madam D' Elboeuf, who had already heard some talk of this Intrigue; and yet without being able to give any Credit to't, by reason of the Young Ladies little merit, was concerned to such a degree as startled her. The truth is, she knew very well that she had a Consideration for this Prince, but she did not imagine it to be so strong as to make her so uneasy. Nevertheless being not able to overcome it, whatever representations she could make to her self, she appeared sad and melancholy to her Husband, who asked her the Occasion. She was cautious, as you may imagine, of informing him in that matter, and one while imputed it to a feigned Indisposition, another while to humours that cannot be ever equalled; but seeing she could not ever put him off with such like Excuses, and that in the mean time, she continued in her drooping Condition, she entreated him to allow her to go take the Air in the country.  
The Duke D' Elboeuf found this Demand so Extraordinary that it put him into a mighty Amazement. He made her answer, that in that, she desired a thing which far from diverting her, would only serve to feed her melancholy; that she would do much better in going often to the Queen, where she would meet with opportunities of pleasantly whiling away her time. And that she might not come to be dejected by her anxiety, he induced her to go thither at that very instant. The Duchess did not stand upon much entreaty,& the easier was she prevailed upon, for that she imagined two things must needs be her security. One the Love the Count had for Chaumont, the Other the Resentment she had to see her self forgotten for such a Maid as she. For in short, tho' she was exempt from most of the weaknesses that are so usual in those of her sex, she did not differ from them in one thing, namely, that she was not vexed, that People loved her, principally when they were Persons of Merit Being come to the Queen, she received Reproaches from her Majesty, upon the account of her not seeing her, for which she contrived some sorry excuses, with which the Queen did nevertheless remain satisfied. The Count de Soissons came in a moment after, and having seated himself by the duchess, It is a miracle, Madam, laid he softly to her, to find you here, sure my Lord the Cardinal is a Coming, otherwise we should never have had the honour of seeing you in this Place.  
Madam D' Elboeuf blushed at these words, but that not making her lose a presence of mind, which she possessed in a most peculiar manner; Have a care, Sir, she made him answer, of Mademoiselle de Chaumont's perceiving you So fine a Conquest is too Dear a Purchase not to husband it; she'll be undoubtedly jealous, and the more, for that, possibly, she knows it is not long since you were upon a strain of Courtship with me. The Queen, who was this while talking to a Lady, returning then again to Madam D' Elboeuf, this Conversation was thus let fall; but tho' it was very short, yet it lead both of 'em to make great reflections.  
To what purpose these reproaches, said the Count in himself, unless she be touched at my Proceedings. Few meddle in other Peoples matters, unless set on by some self-concern. And, perhaps, I am not so indifferent as I imagine, to this Lady. The duchess entertained her thoughts much in the same manner, and while they were both busy'd in these reflections, the Count went and placed himself in a Corner, whence he might view the duchess, who on her side, ever and anon darted him a look. While he was in this Posture, in came Mademoiselle de Chaumont, and being far from imagining that he thought of any other than her, she stolen softly behind him, and gave him a tap upon the shoulder. Madam D Elboeuf having her Eyes turned that way, perceived it, and this would sensibly have vexed her, had she not perceived that the Count de Soissons, after having turned his head towards her, turned again another way, as if he had not perceived her. This Maid being downright in Love with him; This Action of his went to her very heart, and as she was not so wary in her demeanour, as another of more W●t would have been, she pulled him by the Cloak, and did all she could to get him aside, that he might give her the reason of this Contempt; but he repulsed her so Cruelly, that she went away with such an Anguish of mind, as is difficult to be expressed.  
Madam D'Elboeuf saw all this plainly, without taking the least notice, and tho' she was very glad of it in the bottom, yet it only served to augment her disquiet. True, indeed, that this disquiet was of another kind than that show as sensible of before. If she  told her self but an hour before, that she was unhappy in having an Esteem for a Man, that loved another, she did not find that she was the more happy in believing now that it was she her self he loved. And to complete her Trouble; her Husband did of late make her a thousand Caresses, even to the telling her several kind things that are seldom practised between a Husband and a Wife. Thus the least thought that intruded into her head, that was contrary to her Duty, seemed to her a Crime so horrible, that she could not support it. At her going from the Queens Lodgings, she return'd to her own home, and having found the Duke reading, she snatched away his Book, and threw her Arms about his Neck, as if she meant to make him reparation for having dared to look upon any other than himself. The Duke received her Caresses with great affection, and was so far from believing what passed, that he  told her Laughing, that they loved one another too much for Courtiers; that they ought at least to be careful not to show it so much before the World, since it might be capable of affording matter of talk. These words caused the duchess to sigh in Secret, and the Confidence her Husband did so unseasonably harbour, troubled her afresh.  
To render her self Worthy of him, she did all she could to tell her self that it was Chaumont the Prince Loved; but tho' she had been minded to abase her self any longer, it would have been impossible for her to have done it, since that this Prince broke-off with that Maid of Honour, but after a manner so disobliging, that those who thought he had really loved her, plainly perceived their Mistake. This Maid at her going out of the Queens Chamber, went to wait for him in the Anti-Chamber, her heart so piqu'd at what had befallen her, that without considering that she had Enemies that observed her Conduct, she had placed her self in a Corner, where keeping her Nose in her Handkerchief she had  shed an infinity of Tears. Nevertheless she ever and anon turned her head to watch his coming out, and having perceived him, she would needs have stopped him: But he walking on still, as if he had not taken notice of her being there, she was obliged to call out to him, Go not so fast Mr. le Count, I have a Word to say to you. This Prince was obliged to turn his head about at these words; but having other matters to do, than to speak to her; Pardon me, Mademoisselle, said he to her, if I cannot satisfy you for the present, I have something that calls me elsewhere, and it shall be for another Occasion. After this he pretended to have gone his ways; but she stoping him by the Cloak, drew him against his will to a Window, where she began to load him with so many Reproaches, that to prevent the being any longer exposed thereunto for the future, he resolved to undeceive her. But as he had the Civility not to State the Case flat and plain to her, she would by no means apprehended them. Insomuch that seeing he lost his time; This is too much, Mademoiselle, he said to her, and since you will have me speak outright, I advice you to seek for another Lover. For I can no longer love you, and without its being necessary for me to tell you why, I have my reasons to leave you. You leave me, answered Chaumont all in a rage, no, faith, but you shan't, and you must not have engaged me to love you, if you meant to have played me such a Pranck. I shall make my Complaints to the Queen, and we shall see if she will allow you should put such an affront upon a Relation of the Kings.  
This Answer gave the Count Compassion at her foolishness, and fearing she might be so silly as to do what she said, he remonstrated that no surer means were there to dishonour her self then to do as she pretended. Any Maid that had had but so much as a grain of good sense would have  told herself the same, without it's being necessary for him to have put her in mind of it; but she, notwithstanding so faithful a Counsel running only upon her own head, went and threw her self at the Queens feet, whom she besought to do her Justice. After such a Request not a Person was there but imagined that strange things had passed between 'em; and, indeed, the Queen and the whole Court were at first of the same Opinion, and Madam d' Elboeuf having Intimation of the thing, endeavoured more than any body to imprint it in her Belief, that so it might be a kind of Antidote to the Passion she was sensible of for him, notwithstanding all she could do to hinder it. But she quickly perceived there was more sillyness than Lewdness in that girl, and she with so much Innocence  told the Queen after what manner things had passed, that one must not have been over-clear-sighted to accuse her of Disguise.  
As she could not after this stay any longer at Court, at least without serving for a Laughing-stock to all People, the Queen contrived to mary her to a Normand, who being a man of Petty Quality, and yet very willing to pass for quiter another than he was in the world, ought to repute himself as honoured in marrying a Maid whom the King owned for his Relation. This was the Bait that tempted him, the Queen adding a Present thereunto, after which they were married. The Normand fed himself that the Children he was going to have by such a Wife would be of so good a Family, that there would not be one in the Province that could go cheek by jowle with them. Nay, and he thought that without waiting till that time, he might do like Persons of the highest Quality. He took Pages as well for himself as for his Wi●e; and without considering that what had passed at Court would reach Normandy, his thoughts were wholly set upon playing the Great Lord among his Bumpkins.  
After an Illustration of this Nature, the least suspicion not remaining in the Duchesse's mind, it came to pass that her melancholy augmented still the more, upon her knowing that she was the only Person beloved by the Count. This Prince on his part suffered himself to be overwhelmed with his Grief, continuing to believe that he had a beloved Rival, wherein the Cardinal endeavoured to keep him, as well for the Pleasure of seeing him jealous as well as himself, as out of a certain Aversion he had ever born him, and which had still been wonderfully augmented, since their Vows had appeared for one and the same Object. This Cardinal who took delight in imposing upon all the World, had not any greater Pleasure, than when he could accost Madam D'Elboeuf in any place where he might be seen by the Count. Then, tho' most commonly he only discoursed her upon Indifferent matters, he manifested such a Contentedness of mind, as had been sufficient to alarum a Person of a much less jealous Temper than the Count's. But herein consisted his greatest Address, he ordered matters so, as to place Madam d' Elboeuf after such a manner, as that this Prince could not see her face, by which he might have perceived that she gave him not so much occasion to rejoice.  
The same thing befell the Count twice or thrice, and he was tempted to interrupt a Conversation that madded him to the heart. However the Respect he bore to Madam d'Elboeuf, rather than that he owed to the Louvre where this passed, having withheld him, he watched the time of her going out, and getting up so near her, as that the rest might not understand what he said to her: If Madam d'Elboeuf knew, said he to her, that I have the Picture she gave the Cardinal, perhaps she would be afraid, that having in my hands wherewithal to convict her of Infidelity to her Husband, that I would put him in mind that he ought no longer to suffer those long Conversations she has with that Minister, and still less to sand her to his House upon the Pretence of business.  
Madam d'Elboeuf was much surprised at so unexpected a Compliment. Nevertheless the place and the People that might follow them not permitting her to illustrate this matter: You tell me things, she said to him, which I can make no Answer to at present, but which I think of sufficient Consequence as to tell you, that if you will be a while hence at Madam's, I'll promise you to be there, and to give you reasons for every thing you can desire of me. There needs only one bare word to satisfy a Lover. The Count who thought himself the most Unfortunate of all men, made her a Bow, as if she had restored him his Life, and having now no other Impatience, save for the coming of the Hour of repairing to Madam's, he went thither so early, that there was no Company there as yet. His Quality caused the Attendants to tell him that he might go to her very Closet; but he made them answer that he was not come to incommode her, and that he had wherewithal agreeably to pass away his time, until such time as that she was to be seen. At the same time he took a Book out of his Pocket, and the Attendants seeing he drew near a Window, and fixed his eyes upon it, they withdrew out of Respect, really thinking he designed to red. But he no sooner saw 'em out of the way, but that he employed his mind in quiter another thing than reading. He examined himself upon what he had to say to Madam d' Elboeuf, and he was so affencted by the air of Goodness, with which she had made him answer, that he thought he could not without ill grace, say any thing Disobliging to her. But after having thus taken her part in his Heart, he took out of his Pocket the Picture he had taken from the Jeweller, and the remembrance he had that Madam d'Elboeuf had given it to another, overturned all the Resolutions he had newly taken.  
As thoughts succeed one another in a moment, all this passed, as I may say, in a tricc. And doubtless the later would have continued no longer than the former, if Madam d' Elboeuf had not come. This Princess, who did, indeed, expect that he would come betimes to the handkerchief, would not defer repairing thither, not only that she might have time to be thoroughly informed of what he had said to her; but, likewise, that she might do it before that Madam, who was daily wont to show her self at one and the same hour, came out of her Closet. The Attendants made her the same compliment they had done to the Count de Soissons, but having made 'em answer, that she would discourse with him till that Madam came out, she went towards the place where he stood, and found him in so deep a musing, that he did not turn his head, till that she was just by him. He held her Picture still in his hands, and going to put it again into his Pocket: What have you there, Sir, said she to him, and am not I come unseasonably to disturb the Pleasure you took in viewing that portrait? There is indeed, Madam, a great deal in viewing it, the Count made her answer, and I should lie did I not grant it, but there is so little in remembering the Parties Cruelty, that if I was wise, I should never think of her as long as I lived.  
Madam d'Elboeuf was come thither, upon what he had said to her of her Picture; but as he had also  told her at the same time, that she had given it to the Cardinal, and that she very well knew the Contrary, she so little suspected that it might be hers he held, that she almost lost all Patience to hear him talk in this manner. Yet was she far from letting him know how much it spited her,& on the contrary pretending a freedom of mind which she certainly had not; It's usual, said she to him, with Lovers to complain: Thus far from being surprised at this Discourse of yours, I should be much more surprised if you talked otherwise. Let's only see whether there is as much Delight, as you say, in viewing your Mistress, and I assure you, that tho' I am not capable of having for her the same sentiments you have, I shall nevertheless, render her so much Justice, as to own to you downright whether she merits the Pains of your loving her. At these words she reached forth her hand to receive the Picture, and the Count making no difficulty of giving it her, she was strangely surprised when she saw it to be her own, nay and the same she had caused to be drawn for the duchess of Savoy. She asked him immediately by what means it fell into his hands, not being able to forbear manifesting her Amazement to him. But he interpreting her surprise altogether in a wrong sense: You have reason, Madam, he said to her, not to be able to apprehended how it came into my hands, after having made a Present of it as you did to the Cardinal. It was so precious a Pledge that he ought to have taken more Care of it: Indeed, I  told you a while ago, that I had matter to Convict you of Infidelity to your Husband, but God forbid, I should harbour any such thought, and if you knew what passed in my Bosom, you'd be confident that I should much sooner Sacrifice my own Life, than put yours in Danger.  
The Duchesse's astonishment augmented gradually as she heard him utter these reproaches. She cast her eyes from time to time upon this Picture, as if she had thought she had been mistaken; Then when she saw it was certainly the same, then she eyed the Count in all probability to ask him how he could come to have it in his hands. All this passed in mighty silence, and the Count taking it for a Conviction of her being tardy; Ah! Madam, cried he, this Confusion I see you under is too much for me. Why did ye not rather stand upon the Negative. All Easy as I am I should have been the first to have deceived myself, and d'ye not know that the greatest Misfortune for a Lover, is to be ascertained of his Misfortune? You take for Confusion, the Princess replied, what is only an effect of my surprise. I cannot comprehend how the Duchess of Savoy, to whom I sent this Picture, came to put it into other hands, and if she received it not, that she did not give me Notice, since she did of the first which was taken away by Robbers upon the Road? Phy, to others, Madam, the Count retorted, I am not so easily imposed upon. You yourself gave it to the Cardinal, but his Love is very small, since he has not employed his whole Credit to get it again out of my hands. I tell you again, Madam d'Elboeuf replied, that I cannot understand the least tittle of all you say to me: If the Cardinal  told you I gave it him, whenever you please I'll give him the lie before your face; but to spare so much Clutter, I should be very much obliged to you, if you'd content yourself wish sending a courier to the Duchess o Savoy. I'll writ to her to discover this whole Mystery; you shall see all I intimate to her, and as the Person that carries my Letter, shall be by your appointment, you cannot think to be deceived.  
Nothing could be more obliging than this answer, and to take things aright, it spoken a certain Complaisance for him, which a Woman never has, unless she really esteems a man. But he was so possessed of his misfortune, that instead of taking things as he ought, he still made fresh Reproaches. I plainly perceive, Madam, the Reason, he said to her, why you soothe me up thus; you are afraid I should make such a noise as might undo you, and you endeavour to lull me asleep by prolonging of time. But this shows you don't know me: for as I am incapable of any Baseness, my Destiny will have me to love you, n twithstanding that your Carriage renders you so unworthy of me. I tell myself in spite of all my Concern, that your heart is your own, and that you may dispose of it in favour of whom you please. Nevertheless, I know not whether it be Reason or self-love, but methinks you might have disposed of it in favour of a Person that would not have caused you to blushy so much for shane.  
The Duchess, tho' she ought not willingly to have suffered so many reproaches, knew not yet whether she ought to be vexed, or take the Course of entering into new Justifications; but after having pardoned him his first Sallies, being not able to suffer him to persist therein, after what she had said to him, and the Offers she had made him. Y'are i'th' Right, said she to him, and I love the Cardinal. After all do not People love out of different motives? And what hinders but that he may confer Benefits upon me and my Husband, He that h●● all those of the Kingdom at his Disposal, These are very sordid views, the Count replied, for a Princess of your Rank, and I can hardly believe your Husband will own you in' em. It is not fit to tell ones Husband all, the Princess retorted, and ought not they to be much glad that we promote their Interests without telling 'em ought, and that we keep from 'em a secret, the knowing of which would thwart their Advancement and Repose?  
She said this with a certain spiteful air, mingled with so much Disdain, that if the Count had retained the least good Sense, he would have plainly perceived that all she did was merely out of scorn. But the Property of Lovers being to blind themselves, I had indeed ever heard, Madam, said he to her, that there were self interested Ladies, and that Princesses were not exempted no more than o●her People. But I knew not, that they took a Pride as you do, to boast of it. So singular a Sentiment ought to Cure me, and I bear a mortal ill will to myself for having eyes still favourable for you after this. But no Madam, this will not last long, and I must be the poorest Spirited of all men, if I continued to love so Unworthy a Person.  
The duchess d'Elboeuf seeing him in this rage, instead of falling her self into the like, she put on calmer looks and less full of Disdain. Your Carriage, does strangely surprise me, said she to him, and if I only considered you, I should let you alone to believe all you pleased; But since my Honour is at stake, which you could never have a good Opinion of after this, I'll go directly to find out my Husband, and he shall know from the Cardinal, whether all you say be true. Ah! Madam, have a care of that, the Count replied, and can he make such an Inquest as that, without discovering things that would disturb his Quiet? Would he not know that the Cardinal loves you, and that I adore you? &c.— Yes, the duchess interrupted, but will he not know at the same time, that I abhor the Cardinal, and that I do not love you? I know it very well, Madam, that you do not love me, the Count renewed, and it's not necessary to tell me so. But can it be true that the Cardinal is no happier than I?  
Notwithstanding the Dutchess's high Spirit, she did not st●ck to insinuate this truth into him, and what is more, she did not keep up her Courage: I mean that in this coming to a Right understanding, the Count observed such great marks of distinction, that he had occasion to think himself happy. However the greatest in my Opinion, was, that tho' he protested to the duchess that he remained fully persuaded of her Innocency, she would by no means he should trust to her word, obliging him to appoint her a Person in whom she could put Confidence, to know of the duchess of Savoy, the whole dwelling of this Mystery.  
This Conversation lasted till Company came, and a little after Madam came out of her Closet, on which account they could no longer continue their Discourse. The duchess went away first, and after she was gone, the Count stayed not long with Madam. He was overjoyed at what had newly happened, principally when he made reflection, that he ought not only to lay aside his jealousy, but further that Madam d'Elboeuf had spoken to him after a manner altogether obliging. As for her part, she was far from being so well satisfied. Two things were there that made her in pain, and which nevertheless, were opposite to each other. One that she had found the Count too agreeable, that is to say, her virtue did not agree with what she was sensible of for him. The other, that he had not appeared sufficiently an Inamorato. The fault she found in his Love, is, that after having given her her Picture, he had not said so much as one word to her to have it again; which she could not reconcile with all the Instances of Affection he had manifested. No, he does not love me, said she to her self, or, at least, if he has any kindness for me, it is so small, that it Creates him no great trouble. If he had been really in Love, would he have let such an occasion as that slip? He who thought me capable of having made a Present of it to the Cardinal, could not he presume that I would grant him that favour? Had not he a Right to demand it of me, since that he possessed it, before he delivered it me? Besides could not he pretend he was afraid I would restore it to the Cardinal? Whence comes it then, that he has failed, unless it be that he cares not for it?  
This thought was followed with some Reflections upon the Infidelity of all Men in General, and sometimes also upon the Character of some, that delight in imposing upon Ladies. She was infinitely afraid he might be of this last Number; nay, and very often for ought she knew she had reason to believe, that having inherited from his Ancestors the aversion they had born to the house of Lorraine, of which was her Husband, he lay at watch to let it fall upon her, by provoking her to some weakness unworthy of a Virtuous Person, and of her rank, tho' he might afterwards make a trophy of it. If these sort of thoughts had come in after to her assistance, it is certain they were capable of banishing from her mind all that she could say to her self in favour of the Count; But as it is not Customary that suspicions gain the Victory over Love, it is not to be wondered if a full Confidence did in a little time set her mind at Rest.  
What much contributed to this, was that after the Couriers return that was gone into Savoy, the Count being fully informed that he had wrongfully suspected her, gave her such convincing proofs of his Passion that one must have contrived to create trouble to one's self, to have remained any longer in Diffidence. But if on one side she recovered her Tranquillity, her Diffidence increased on the Other, telling her self instantly that it became her not to carry her self in that manner towards her Husband, that had such fine Qualities, as that when she married him, had made her incur the Envy of all those that might have pretended to him. Now these reflections being as I have newly said, ever present to her mind, they wrought such a Change in her humour, that she became quiter another Person, and was not to be known again even by those that frequented her the most familiarly. Her Husband, who loved her with great Tenderness, was continually at her feet to ask her what she ailed, and as she was far from making a Confident in a matter of that nature, and that, nevertheless, she dreaded his finding it out she thought Convenient to make him run riot. After several sighs, whose source proceeded from quiter another thing than what she was going to allege. The Truth is, My Lord, said she to him, I wonder after such a Carriage as yours, you should still ask me what I ail. Are you ignorant of the Kindness I have for you, and since you are persuaded of it, d'ye not know that the frequent visits you pay to my Lady duchess d'Usez are capable of plunging me into still far greater Disquiets than those I am now under.  
The Duke d'Dlboeaf was so good natured as to think she spoken her mind, and pressing her tenderly in his Arms; How, Madam, said he to her, Do you do me the injustice to believe that I can leave you for Another? D'ye find so little fondness in my Caresses, that you think 'em almost at an End? Whence comes it that you spoken to me no sooner of it? And since it lay in my Power to calm the troubles of your Mind, why did you not put my Affection to the Test before you accused me: Tho' I went so often to Madam d' Usez's House, that as it was less on her account then for the sake of the Good Company I there met withal, so by Consequence I should not have been much concerned to deprive myself of seeing her, and all that I am vexed at is, that you did not ask me a thing more difficult to grant you, I mean that for your sake, there is nothing but what is easy to me. Th●s Protestation was followed with a thousand such tender Caresses, that Madam d'Elboeuf not being able to think how much to blame she was to offend so Lovely and Complaisant a Husband, became as motionless in his Arms.  
The Duke perceived it not at first, but at the long run, seeing that she did not in any wise answer his fondness; What signifies this, Madam, he said to her, and were it true, as it is not, that I had really offended you, would not such a Protestation as mine be Capable of putting it out of your Mind: With much more reason how much ought you to be satisfied, who know my Innocence and my Love? For in short you plainly see by the tenderness I now Express to you, that I have all the Desires of a Lover, and all the Amity of a Husband, what can you desire more? As on my side, what can I desire more but that you'd love me, as much as you know I love you?  
These Tender and passionate discourses were as so many stabbs with a poniard into that Princesses heart, and she melting all into tears, took her Husband about the neck; the regret she had for having offended him making her believe that she really loved him. But tho' she plainly perceived that there was a great Difference between the Sentiments she had for him, and those she had for the Count, she resolved, nevertheless, to make her Love give way to her Duty. It shall not be said, cried she to her self, that I no longer Love a Husband that Loves me so Tenderly, for a Prince, that perhaps, in dead loves me, but who, however, has no Other design then his Pleasure. Who knows if I was so base, as to grant him any favour, whether it would not paul him at the same Moment? Whereas M. d' Elboeuf loves me daily more and more. Whence comes it that I do not make my Duty my Delight; and tho' even the least Weakness should not be an Occasion of shane for a Princess, could I, I say, conceal from myself the subject of my Confusion, who shall secure me that the Consequences will not be fatal to me; I, that from the little Experience I have, do know that trouble does Closely attend the least false step?  
The having such thoughts as these, was in some manner, returning to her Duty: Yet as the fear of what was to come had much contributed to the framing of them, Madam d'Elboeuf was very angry with her self, that she was not capable of taking such as were more Noble and more lofty. This gave her to understand that notwithstanding the Caresses, with which she cajoll'd her Husband she did not love him so much as she thought, and daily perceiving that this was but too true for her Repose, she fell again under such an affliction as is not possible to express. The Count de Soissons, who loved her no less then her Husband, perceived her melancholy as much as the Other could have done, and the goodness she had expressed to him at the time when they came to a Right understanding; making him presume that he might possibly discover the occasion, he sought her out with great eagerness, being fully resolved to let her know how deeply he shared in it. The Occasion offered itself some few days after, He met her at the duchess of Ventadours house, to whom he went to pay a Visit, and as if Chance would needs have favoured him, it so happened, that while they were there one of that Ladies Children fell down Stairs, and was very much hurt. This being  told to Madam de Ventadour; Pardon me, Madam, she said to Madam d' Elboeuf, if such an Accident as this Obliges me to leave you for a Moment. Excuse the Tenderness of a Mother, I leave you with the Count, and I believe he will have the Goodness to Excuse me in like Manner. Upon these words she went out, leaving them all manner of freedom of discoursing together.  
The Count meaning to avail himself of this happy moment, drew near Madam d'Elboeuf with the Confidence that might be created in him by the Conversation I intimated a while ago. But receiving him with a most Extraordinary Coldness; If I did not follow Madam d'Ventadour said she to him, it was because I was very willing to speak two words to you, while I had time. Be so kind to me as never to tell me that you Love me, and if I have hitherto born with it, take my word I did it only on the account of the Suspicion you had of me. Now that you cannot have any Left, My honour requires that I change my Conduct. I have besides several reasons, and by this I shall know whether you really love me. The Count was upon the point of telling her a thousand things to make her revoke this Order which he reckoned Barbarous and full of Cruelty; But that Princess suspecting the Count would urge reasons upon reasons on this occasion, and not presuming so far upon her strength, as to believe she could stand such a Brunt as that, without danger, went immediately to find out Madam de Ventadour, and all his entreaties could not induce her to afford him one Moments Audience.  
Unnecessary is it here to represent the Counts Grief and Astonishment. It is easy to imagine both, since I have already said he was infinitely in Love, and that he had conceived hopes in all points advantageous; however as he feared that if he stayed any longer in that place, it would be impossible for him to conceal the Disorder that Command had put him in, he went away instantly, his mind filled with so much Distraction; that when his Footmen asked him whither he would have his Coachman drive, he made them answer to Madam d'Elboeufs. And indeed he let himself be carried thither, without knowing whither he went, which he did not perceive till he was at the Gate. Then his Coachman stoping, and this Prince having had time to make reflection where he was, he remained for some time thinking what answer to make his Footmen, that came up to receive his Orders. At length having taken his Resolution, he bid 〈◇〉 ask if Mr. d'Elboeuf was at home, and they bringing him word he was, he mounted up into his Apartme●●●●ill so possessed with what had befallen him, that Mr. d'Elboeuf plainly perceived that he had something extraordinary in his head. As they were intimate friends, without staying for his speaking of it to him; Some Accident has befallen you, said he to him, and if you fancied that I was capable of doing you Service, you was not mistaken in coming hither directly, since that I assure you that your Interests shall ever be as dear to me as my own. By what do you perceive that, the Count made answer, who did not imagine that his Disorder appeared so manifest as it did, and who besides pretended to conceal it from all People, and particularly from him. By your Eyes, the Duke replied to him, by your Demeanour, by your Air; what shall I say to you in short, by your whole Person. They nevertheless deceive you, the Count repartu'd; But all I can say to you is, that I have been ill these two or three days. On this account have I resolved to go for some time into the Country, and am come hither on purpose to take my leave of you.  
The Duke by these words was still more than before confirmed in his Opinion, and imagining his Discontent to proceed from the Court, he having been his friend so long, and making him offers of Service, He could not forbear Expressing his wonder to him: But the Count still continuing to tell him the same thing they partend somewhat coldly on the Dukes Part, who could not relish his having this reservedness to him, after they had been so intimate. However, that he might find out whether he guest aright, he took Coach as soon as the Count was gone, and repairing to the Louvre, he inquired under hand of those he thought might be best informed, if any thing had befallen the Count. But all were ignorant in the matter, which put him in amaze, so that he return'd home; and presently after came Madam d' Elboeuf. You are a stranger, said he to her, to a piece of News that will surprise you, the Count goes away tomorrow very much dissatisfied with the Court, and what's most strange, is, that he contented himself with coming to bid me Adieu, without acquainting me with the Occasion of his Discontent. I come now directly from the Louvre, whither I went to see if I could get any Item in the matter, but I found all there as much strangers to it as myself, so that I perceive his Disgrace is kept very Secret.  
Madam D' Elboeuf presently judged herself more concerned in t th●● the Court: But as she was not fond of owning the matter, she fell to arguing upon the point, rather contriving to augment than to dissipate his Suspicions. Nevertheless when she came to be alone the Truth displayed it self in its full Colours to her mind. 'tis for my sake, said she, that he banishes himself from Court, and after having occasioned his renouncing of Grandures, which he might with a just Title have laid Claim to. Ought not I to have so much Consideration as to prevent the fatal Resolutions he may take on my Account. What will he go do in his Solitude, or rather what must I do when I shall no longer see him? she paws'd upon this Reflection, and never had she so much Occasion for her virtue as at that time. And indeed her Imagination represented this Prince as the most enamoured of al men, asking her what he had done to occasion his being treated with so much Cruelty. Is the Esteem he has for thee a Crime, said she to her self, & whereas thou oughtest to take it kindly, is it possible that thou canst doom him to Banishment? Couldst not thou be honest without reducing him to Despondency. This is all thy Husband could ask of thee, and after all, canst not thou be Mistress of Love& Hatred? was it not sufficient for thee that thou endeavourest to Love what thou dost not Love, and endeavourest to hate what thou dost not hate, whatever effort thou mayst use?  
She endeavoured to conceal the Sadness she lay under upon this news, for fear of her Husbands coming to know how far she was concerned in't. Ah! If she durst have writ to him, doubtless she had done it to have made him break off his Departure; But the regard she had for her Honour being still more prevalent then all Other things, she repelled that thought that recoyl'd upon her ever and anon, and she got the Mastery of it at the long run.  
In the mean while the Count De Soissons did not fail to depart the next day, and went to his House Blandi ten Leagues from Paris, whence he would have gone much farther, but that the Court might have taken umbrage at so precipitated a Retreat. There to disperse his melancholy he fel to Hunting; but as that was not capable of easing his Disquiet, he often strayed all alone into the Woods, where alighting he tied his Horse to some three, while thereby he lay musing upon Madam D' Elboeuf. That he might think of her with the more pleasure, he ever carried the Picture about him he had bought of the Courier, and which having in his Possession, he had not minded to redemand the Other of that Princess. He took it out of his Pocket, and as if it could have given him a reason for her Cruelty, he made the most melting Complaints Imaginable. When he had continued a pretty space of time in Consulting it, he return'd again to his People, whom he made believe, he had lost them through Inadvertency. Those days he went not a Hunting, he walked in a Grove adjoining his Castle, without other entertainment than that of his sad thoughts which the love he had for Solitariness made him fond of harbouring.  
Madam d' Elboeuf on her part passed her time as ill. That Princes's Passion was ever present to her memory, and especially the prompt Obedience he paid to her Commands. Yet did she use the faculties of her Mind to repel these thoughts, well knowing that the more she dwelled upon them, the more matter should she have to upbraid her self withal. Unhappy Princess, said she to her self, Thy Husband then, it seems is not worth the pains that thou shouldst think of him! Thou very well k●ow'st, that thou canst not think of any Other without being Criminal, and yet thou dost th● quiter Contrary of what thy Duty directs thee. What has the Count de Soissons, that the Duke D'Elboeuf has not? Examine all well from one End to the Other, and thou wilt know that all the Difference thou puts between them, only proceeds from the Corruption of Nature? If the Count de Soissons was thy Husband, thou wouldst love the Duke d' Elboeuf, didst not thou love him, when he was no more then thy Lover, and for that th●u hast held him a thousand times in thy Arms, must be seem less Aimable to thee than he formerly did? Beware of desiring to be in the same Condition with the Count, his Dislike would attend upon Enjoyment, and all that would remain to thee from thy Crime, would be so dismal a Confusion, that thou wouldst not know where to hid thyself, much better is it that thou fall in again with thy Duty, and if thou intendest that the Count should not lose the respect he has for thee, thou oughtest to be more Especially Sollici●ous to maintain thy Virtue.  
When she had urged such sort of things as these to herself, she found her self very much eased, so far as to fancy she had nothing more to apprehended: But that to have effected, she should not have given admittance to any other thoughts in her heart; from which not being able to refrain, it is not to be wondered if she was reduced ever and anon to stand the Brunt of new Conflicts. Nevertheless she made all possible resistance; yet as this could not be done, but to the prejudice of her health, she pined away in such manner as made it believed she must suddenly betake her self to her Bed. Mr. d'Elboeuf, whose Love far from having been subject to the distaste that seems annexed to Possession, had been thereby the more augmented, not being able to see her in that Condition without an extreme Affliction, consulted all the Physicians that they might endeavour to afford some Remedy to her Distemper. At last they concluded that Asses Milk would be good for her; but that to render it the more useful, it was necessary she should go take it in the Country. Mr. d'Elboeuf had a very fine House two Leagues from Paris, but as his Dependence upon Court was such as did not allow of his Absence, he resolved to sand his Wife thither, that he might go see her every day, and thus at the same time gratify his Love and his Ambition. Madam d'Elboeuf was overjoyed at the Prescription of the Physicians, having no other kindness save for solitariness. She sought out the most lonely Places, which that fine house had no want of, and they being to be trusted with the occasion of her trouble, without fear of their revealing it again to any body, she found a certain quiet of mind, which she did not enjoy amid the Court and Town.  
In the mean while the Cardinal, who was still possessed with the same Passion, being in no wise able to bear with her absence, daily sent his Physicians, thinking that as they were the most expert of all the Kingdom, they would contribute to her health, on which he reckoned her return depended, more than on all those that saw her. This was his first Motive; but he had another, that had still a more peculiar regard to her Person. His Quality of first Minister, and Sovereign Dispenser of all the Graces of the Kingdom, rendering all People Complaisant to his Wills, he encharg'd one of those Physicians with a Letter for Madam d'Elboeuf, and this man building much greater hopes upon this piece of Service, than upon all the Advantages he might derive from his Profession, fancied that with a little Address, it would be Easy for him to get her to peruse it. For that purpose he went from Paris before his Companions, and being arrived at that house; Madam, said he to the duchess D' Elboeuf, Our Calling is a strange sort of business. Those that are best skilled in it are often esteemed less able than Others. The Quality of a signior among us is commonly his whole Merit. Since I had the honour to see you, I have a specific remedy to give; yet my Companions have not deemed it good, because it Surpasses their Capacity; So as that I am now forced to come hither, as it were in stealth to discourse with you. At these words he took a Paper out of his Pocket, wherein he had really set down a Prescription, and reading it to her as the best thing in the World: Now this Madam, added he, is what your health consists in In case you make use of it. I'll venture my head you recover in three days time. But be sure you keep the secret till then, Otherwise it will set my Seniors so against me, as will put us beyond all Reconciliation.  
He discoursed the Princess upon this pretended secret, till such time as that he heard some Body coming in the Anti-Chamber. Then slily taking his opportunity he slipped another Paper into the Princesses hand, entreating her that she would receive it and put it under her Pillow, until that she could red it in privatc; that he would go in the mean while for fear it might be his Companions, and so stealing down a little back pair of Stairs, he fancied his trick was going to have all the success he could wish; and the rather, for that the Princess, who had never cared to disoblige any Body, had really put it where he had bid her.  
The Noise they had heard in the Anti-Chamber had been occasioned by some Ladies, that were come from Paris on purpose to visit the Princess, and as she was not willing to make known the nature of her Malady, she did not quit her Bed, as long as they stayed with her. However their visit was somewhat long, nay, and they invited themselves to Dinner; which made the Princess quiter forget the Physicians Prescription, which besides she thought to be of so little Consequence, that had she lost it, it would in no wise have troubled her. After these Ladies had dined they talked of returning,& as they were going out, Mr. D'Elboeuf arrived, who seeing his Wife still in Bed, he was afraid she grew worse and worse. And going to her to inquire of her her self, as he was caressing of her, he perceived the Corner of a Paper that passed from under the Pillow, and taking it without dreaming of any thing; What's this, Madam, said he to her, and viewing it, he perceived it to be the Cardinals hand. Madam d' Elboeuf being sincere,  told him what she thought it to be, and being willing to red to her her self that pretended Prescription, she made up to take it out of his hands. But he beginning to enter into great suspicion, that still augmented, at this new Action of hers, stepped three paces back, and opening that Paper, he red these Words therein.  
The Cardinals Letter to Madam d'Elboeuf.  
I sand you my Physicians, but I have little hopes of their curing you. If they understood any thing, they ought to begin to show it in my Person, I believe you sick of the same Distemper I have for this long while lain under, and nevertheless they have not as yet been able to find out any Remedy for their Master. But how should they find any, since my Cure depends only on You? Would to God I had brought you to a Condition to say as much of me, the zeal I should have to serve you, would be a Secret Reproach to you for the Contempt you have ever had for my Passion. The more I examine myself, the less do I find myself Worthy of this Treatment. So perfect a Love as mine never incurred so much Hatred; and indeed to tell you my thoughts plainly, I do not think myself the only Occasion of my misfortune. Though I am no Lovely Person, yet I have some Qualities that ought to Distiguish me. The least is that of Minister, and I reckon much more upon a Passion that admits of no Comparison. But either that I came too late to offer you my services, or that you naturally hate me, or as is more probable a more happy Person is come across, I may say, that while the Whole World looks up with Envy at my fortune, I am nevertheless the most unfortunate of all men  
Mr. d' Elboeuf blushed and then turned pale, while he was reading this Letter, and his Wife knew not the meaning of the Different Motions that appear d in his Countenance. At length when he had done, he sat himself down in a Chair, falling back like a man that had not the Power to support himself. This was still matter of greater Amazement to this Princess; and indeed being no longer able to kerb her Curiosity; tell me for Gods sake, said she to him, what there is mysterious in that Paper, and you must sure have found very surprising things in it, and very touching at the same time, for it to bring you in the Condition I see you: Is there in it that I must die, speak and let me know. It ought to be so, Madam, the Duke answered her, if I had more regard to the affront you put upon me, than to the affection I have ever had for you, yes, I ought now to think only of revenging myself, but either that I have but little honour, or that there are reasons of weakness that do detain me, and which nevertheless I do not approve of, I see my Infamy as a man voided of all sense. At these Words he flew out of the Chamber all in a rage, which Madam D' Elboeuf seeing, who was in an inconceivable pain to know the meaning of all this; she threw her self from off the Bed and begged of him to Stay. But this Prince who wanted only to get away from a place, where he had newly made so vexatious a Discovery, stoping his Ears to her entreaties, locked the Door too after him, and by this means hindered her from following him, he immediately had his horses put into the Coach, and stepping, in he went and Closetted himself up in Elboeuf Hall, ordering that if any one came to see him to say that he was in the Country.  
Madam D' Elboeuf having seen him go away in this manner, and having besides undergone the reproaches I mentioned, followed him within less than half an hour, tho' her condition was such as not to do it without hazarding her health. She went directly to his Chamber,& falling at his feet; Take away my Life, Sir, said she to him, rather than conceal from me any longer the occasion of your Discontent. I have nothing upon my heart that upbraids me in the least, and if I was, as you ta●c me, perfidious, you could not carry yourself otherwise. I advice ye, Madam, the Duke made answer, to Condemn me: What would ye have more of me, than to leave you at liberty to do all you Please? Return into the Country, if you'l take my Counsel, 'tis a place much fitter than this for your Gallantries,& all I require of you is to leave me at quiet. He turned his back upon her at the same time,& opening a window that looked out upon a Garden, he fell to gazing there, but so possessed with his misfortune, that if he had been asked what he looked at, he could in no wise have  told. His Wife notwithstanding his obstinacy to conceal what he ailed from her, went to him again, and as she still pressed him upon the same thing, he was so weary, that he  told her how that unless she left him at quiet, he would throw himself out of the Windows. But I'll forestall you, Madam D' Elboeuf reparty'd, being in the utmost Despondency at this usage: and indeed it would be much better for me that I tumbled myself down headlong, than any longer suffer what I have not incurred by any ill Conduct of mine. At these words either that she really meant to throw her self out of the Windows, or that she would only make a show to fright him, she did what was requisite to get up, at which the Duke being very much startled, he seized on her Petticoats, then taking her about the Waste, he in spite of her struggling carried her off from that place. This Princess whose Despair could not be greater than viewing him with eyes capable of instiling Compassion; Why do you hinder me from dying, said she to him, when you kill me with a Death a thousand times more Cruel than that I might inflict upon myself? But know that all your efforts will be in vain, you will not be always with me, and unless you tell me wherein I am faulty, I shall sooner or later find an opportunity to affranchize myself from all your Cruelties.  
The Duke having a thousand reasons to keep his Secret, or at least thought he had, not that he imagined he had any thing new to tell, but thought at least that his Case required secrecy, that so he might detect things which as yet he was a stranger to, seeing himself nevertheless perplexed by these menaces, endeavoured to fence off this sttroak, by taking another Course. Wherefore making a show of yielding to her Persecutions; I must then Satisfy you Madam, said he to her, since you oblige me thereunto; but as it is a thing I cannot do without great Reluctancy, and that I have naturally an Aversion for Reproaches, afford me this Night to consult my Pillow upon the matter. I promise you to unbosom my heart to you to morrow morning; but on Condition that what shall pass between us two shall not go farther.  
Madam D' Elboeuf thought it strange that he thus deferred acquainting her with a thing which she so ardently desired to know; however thinking she had but one night to wait, she consented to the proposal. And the night being passed without her having so much as closed her eyes, she impatiently waited for the Dukes coming out of his Chamber, when they came to tell her that he had taken horse two hours before day. Taken Horse; she retorted in a dismal amaze: Ah! This is too much, she added fainting, and I must die. She said no more; but before the rest of the day was spent, a violent fever seized her, Whose symptoms appeared so dangerous to the Physicians, that they thought it requisite to sand in search of Mr. d' Elboeuf.  
He was gone to Blandi to see the Count de Soissons, Whom he reckoned for one of his best Friends. He at first endeavoured to conceal the melancholy under which he laboured, and made him believe that thinking the time tedious that he had not seen him of so long a while, he was come on purpose to invite him to return to Court. To back what he said, he made use of a world of Plausible reasons, by which he let him see that a Prince of his Birth far from making any advantage by keeping at a distance, hazarded the losing of All. That at least he could not deny but that this was the direct way to be abandoned by all his friends; that he was not to learn that most men fuffering themselves to be lead on by Interest, would remain affencted, so far only as that they saw a Person was of use to them for their fortune; that however Rich a Prince of the Blood might be, certain People were there that nothing could be procured for but by the Channel of the Court: That thus it was beyond all Question that those People having nothing more to hope, would fall off by degrees; that this was such a Truth that it was the Loadstone of the greater part; that it was commonly seen that the Court of the Ministers was much more numerous then that of the Princes themselves;& whence does this proceed, but from the reason newly urged; that as for his part, he was as little fond as Others of doing any thing Unworthy of his Birth, which nevertheless, necessity had several times obliged him to.  
The Count de Soissons after having given him the hearing, seeing that he pressed him still on by reasons full as strong as these, and being desirous to conceal from him his inducements to retirement,  told him he jumped in accord with all he said but that, nevertheless things there were too difficult to be born withall, that there was no standing the Brunt of them That no longer to hid his Discontent from him, he must needs tell him, that Cardinal Richelieu abused his fortune: that far from giving the Princes of the Blood that Consideration he was obliged to, he behaved himself in such manner towards them, that if it had not as a man may say, been casting imputations upon the King to have corrected that Minister into his Duty, he should long since have given way to the Temptation. And thereupon taking him to Witness whether or no he spoken the Truth, this being as it were touching the Dukes Wound, who was much more envenomed against his Eminency, he perceived that he Changed Colour. And certain it is, that the Duke being no longer able to bear a Conversation of this kind; Let's talk no more of him, said he to him, my reasons are weak in Comparison of yo●●s, and though I was of another mind at my Coming hither, Truth does now oblige me to side with your Opinion. After this he would have discoursed of something else, but used such great violence upon himself in doing it, that the Count, whom it was not easy to put the Change upon, taking notice of it: My Lord Duke, said he to him, You have something at heart, which you do not utter, and though I had been less Conversant with you than I have, yet could I not have missed of observing it. Why with your friends d'ye put this Constraint upon yourself? And to whom would you unbosom your heart, if you are thus reserved to me, You that know, that I have no Secret that is so to you? tell me not so, the Duke made answer, and pray'e remember that before you left Paris; I pressed you to tell me the Occasion, but without being gratified? Your Secret, nevertheless, was of no great Importance, whereas that mine—  
This word having started from him, without making Reflection on it he would willingly have recalled it, as soon as he perceived it; Finish, said he to him, without hesitation, and since your Secret is incomparably of greater Consequence than mine, for that very reason ought you the rather to lay yourself open. I did not indeed, acquaint you with the Cause of my retreat, since to what purpose was it, either to You or I? On the Contrary the making of you a Confident in that Case, was it not capable of injuring you? If the Cardinal had known that I had Consulted you, would you now, as you are, be upon the List of his friends, and would it not be the means of making you lose a World of Courtesies, which you yourself have owned to me that you are indebted to him for? He has Sold 'em to me at a very Dear rate, the Duke retorted, and it would have been much better for me, he had been my greatest Enemy: In uttering these words he gave a great sigh, and the Count, who fancied that such motions only suited with amorous Passions, presently imagined that he had discovered that which the Cardinal had for his Wife, he urged him so much the more to tell him what the matter was, as that he feared he had also discovered that this Princess made returns. The Duke after having said so much, no longer knew how to decline proceeding further, tho' to speak the truth, he was persuaded, that a Secret of that nature is never to be divulged. But the Count, whose Curiosity could not be greater, reproaching him that his being so reserved, was not acting like a friend, he induced him to ease his heart. Yet was he so very loathe to make a step of this kind, that he was going to take a vast Circumlocution; when the Count judging by all he said, that certain Secrets were there that were to be pulled out: The truth is, said he to him, You raise my Pitty, and by the Perplexity I see you in, I know not whether I ought not to believe something of Madam d' Elboeuf. It is but too true, the Duke replied, being seized with so great an affliction, that there was not the like. Persidious as she is, she has suffered the Cardinal to talk of Love to her, and blinded as I was, I did not so much as take notice of it, but have still myself sent her to his house several times. Alas! I no longer wonder at the Easiness I met withall in dispatching my business, I was then a stranger to the Cause; but I now but too plainly see into my misfortune. However tell me, my Prince, If being in my Place, you would have thought to have had any thing to apprehended on that side. Is He such a Temptation for a Woman,& must not a She be very termagantly loose to entertain such a Spark.  
The Count, with Whom this Discourse was a kind of Prognostication that the Duke had detected things criminal to all Intents, found himself no less struck with jealousy than the Duke d' Elboeuf. Nevertheless thinking ●●e was under an obligation to keep it better concealed; You are too hasty, said he to him, and whoever should rely upon what you say would be possessed that your Honour was lost past all Remedy. Soft and fa●r, Good ●●y Lord Duke, and you should not if I might advice you, pro●●ed so far upon a bare Suspicion, How! a Suspicion The Duke made answer, D' ye know upon what grounds I speak? No truly, the Count replied, and that is what I'd fain know. It is upon Convincing proofs, the Duke retorted, and when you know it is from a Letter I myself found under her Pillow; What will you have to say?  
If the Duke had looked upon the Count at that Moment, or rather if he had been in a Condition to observe the different motions with which he was animated, it is beyond all Question that he would have been still more unhappy than he was, since he must have perceived that his Wife had two Lovers instead of One, and that this was the Rival his Eminency complained so much off in his Letter: But his misfortune depriving him of judgement, his thoughts were wholly taken up in justifying what he had newly said. Wherefore taking his Letter out of his Pocket; Here is what, said he to him, makes me speak in this manner, and which I confided in you, as a Person from whom I expect friendship, and of Whom I require good Council. At these Words he gave him that Letter, and the Count opening it with a Dread I shall not undertake to Express, was strangely surprised and overjoyed at the same time, that he did not by it find the state of things to be as the Duke had reported' em. On the Contrary he saw himself pointed out therein, as the Party to whom that Princess had given her heart: an happiness he would much rather have heard uttered from the Dutchess'es own Mouth, than by that of a Rival. However as it wanted much of his being so wretched as he had imagined, this wrought another manifest alteration in his face, and by which the Duke might again have perceived how much he was affencted by all that concerned his Wife, if, as I have already said, his misfortune had not deprived him of the use of Reason.  
In the mean while the Count having made an end of reading this Letter,  told the Duke how that he was in the wrong in thinking himself so unhappy, that if he made his ill fortune consist in having a Wife that had Adorers, he had drawn it upon himself: that he must not then have chosen one of so much Beauty, and merit. That it's usual to love such Persons; But what he should vex at was, if it was true that his wife loved any Other than himself: That this did not appear by the Letter he had newly put into his hands, but on the Contrary, that she hated the Cardinal. That it was only stuffed with Complaints and jealousy; an indubitable mark that she was virtuous. Ah! my Dear Count, the Duke replied, do not seek as you do to blind me: God be thanked, I am not naturally jealous; but withall I see Clear when there is occasion for so doing. The Lover that has most reason to applaud his fortune, does he not ever Complain? 'tis the very way to bring a Woman to one's hand, and the Sex that ever makes a Lurry before it yields to our desires would it be willing to have its favours proclaimed to it's self. It's much better to make it Cruel at the time it is least so, and after this manner is it that you ought to Explain what you see. Otherwise how should Madam d' Elboeuf have received this Letter? Does she not know that this is Contrary to her Duty? But what do I say, she not only received it, but likewise hide it under her Pillow, and which is worse she would have hindered me from taking it. If you would have me to discover my malady still further to you, would she have gone to his house if she had done what a Virtuous Woman ought to do? She knew well enough that he loved her, and that alone was sufficient to have hindered her from ever setting foot there. I must needs own that she sometimes declined going, telling me she should be very glad if I would exempt her from that trouble; but this is a finess as gross as the Other, and by which I was not to be trepanned. She spoken in this manner to me, that in case I came to make a Discovery, she might tell me, and don't you know that you would needs put me upon it, and that I never went but against my will. And yet the Perfidious Woman went, and after all I have now said to you, I beg of you to tell me sincerely what you would think were you in my place,  
While these things occurred at Blandi, the Court that had not been in any wise uneasy at the Count de Soisson's retirement, was not exempt from alarums, when they knew the Duke de Elboeuf was gone to him. The Cardinal notwithstanding the Passion of Love had another of no less Prevalency. I mean that he was gnawed by so great an Ambition, that all the rest was nothing in Comparison of that. Thus imagining that these two Princes plotted to drive him away from the Ministry, he went to the house of the Countess Dowager of Soissons, and  told her that the King sent for her to answer to him for the Conduct of her Son. This Princess not having the Complaisance to study to please the favourites, made him answer, that her son was too wise ever to be wanting in the respect he owed to his Majesty; that she would engage Body for Body; but that she must needs tell him at the same time, that he had too much heart ever to buckle under a Minister that understood not himself. This answer vexed the Cardinal, and tho' he was bound in her to respect the Quality of Princess of the blood, he lashed out so far as to say, that she it was, perhaps, that gave her son ill counsel.  
From thence he went to my Lady duchess of Elboeuf, where notwithstanding that they  told how that she was indisposed, and that it was impossible to see her, he mounted up into her Apartment. He there found the Physicians that had newly been passing their Judgements; as I have intimated, that she was in great danger, and that it became 'em to acquaint Mr. Elboeuf with her Condition. But none of 'em knowing whither he was gone, he ran a risk of knowing nothing of the matter, if the Cardinal had not heard of his being at Blandi. The State he saw the duchess in was the cause that instead of making her the same compliment as he had done to Madam de Soissons, he was touched with all Compassion. Wherefore drawing near her Bed, and all withdrawing out of Respect, he expressed his Grief to her for the Condition he saw her reduced to. At the same time a Gentleman was dispatched away to go find out the Duke, and being arrived at Blandi, he acquainted him how that his Wife was nearer being dead than alive. He was concerned at this News notwithstanding this Prejudice, and after having inquired into the Circumstances of her illness, and what hour it took her, he asked him by what means he came to know where he was. By the Cardinal, the Gentleman made him answer, whom I left at my Lady's Bed-side, and who came to see her, knowing she lay a dying.  
This was sufficient to plunge this Prince into Despair, and after having bid this Gentleman go rest himself for a while till such time as he had his answer. Well my Dear Prince, said he to the Count de Soissons, needs there any thing more to persuade you of the reality of my misfortune? She is not content with being a Perfidious and an Ingrate, she likewise forgets in her present extremity, that it is impossible but that he or she must needs show such Weaknesses as will make known my Infamy. I say nothing of the little Care she has taken of her salvation, and yet this is what pierces my very heart: I have still so much Love for her, nowtithstanding the reason I have to hate her, as to desire that while she is going to make me led a Languishing Life, she should enjoy Eternal happiness, if it be the Will of God to take her out of this World. Maugre all I can say to myself, I already bewail her, both as sick, and as threatened with dying very suddenly. In fine, what shall I say more, I must needs own to you that I no longer know myself, and you must needs be much surprised after what I've declared to you, when I tell you that I am going this very instant to afford her all the assistance I possibly can? At these words he took leave of the Count, who entreated him not to harbour any such fancies in his head, and that his wife was more virtuous then he imagined.  
He had like to have killed his Horse, so over-impatient was he, and being coming to Elboeuf Hall, he found her still worse then he had been  told. And indeed, she had lost all sort of Knowledge, insomuch that making up to her,& seeing that she hardly breathed▪ How Madam, said he to her, with a voice interrupted with sighs and sobs, will you die without me? Don't you know that our days are inseparable? Why must you have the Cruelty to leave me: And is this what you promised me? But this was for all the world the same as if he had spoken to the Walls: she was not in a Condition to make him an answer, nor even to understand him, which he still more and more perceiving, he began to tear his hair: This created so much pitty in all the By-standers, that they knew not which was most to be pitied, he or her: she to die at an age, as a Man may say, when People begin to live; He to lose a Wife, without whom they were very sensible Life would be a Burden to him.  
Two or three days passed in this manner without any hopes of her recovery, after which she seemed to be a little better. Madam de Guise her Relation and Friend, who had constantly been with her since her illness,  told her then the Affliction her Husband was under, which had brought him to keep his Bed as well as her self. That's not possible, the Duchess immediately answered: Why say ye so, Madam de Guise retorted, and has Monsieur d' Elboeuf carried himself so ill towards you, that you ought to be surprised at this Tenderness? Madam d' Elboeuf saw plainly she had said too much; nevertheless the thing being done, and past all Remedy: I have my reasons, Madam, she replied, to say what I do, and once again, is it possible that what you tell me is true? Madam d' Guise without shrifting further than she was willing into her secret, having confirmed the thing to her anew: Ah Madam, said Madam d' Elboeuf to her, if you'l oblige me, let me hear this from Monsieur d' Elboeuf's own mouth, and if he cannot come hither, let him be  told that I have still strength enough to go to him.  
These words being related to the Duke, he would by no means she should rise from her Bed, and overjoyed that she was better, he went into her Chamber, guessing aright that if he went not to hers, she would come to his. After what had passed you may well think he was mightily at a loss where to begin the Conversation; and indeed he made his appearance with a down-cast look, not that he thought he was too blame, but because he reproached himself as guilty of a weakness in having any regard for a faithless woman. But Madam d' Elboeuf having nothing to upbraid her self withall. Well sir, said she to him, you see me here ready to die, and what comforts me is, that if I do not die for you, I die at least for the love of you, I was not able to suffer your suspicions without sinking under the reflection, and to my highest happiness I may now discourse you upon my Innocency. You would by no means give me Credit, when I would have entertained you upon that point at another Occasion: God knows however that I did not intend to impose upon you, no more than I do now; I never wronged you in any manner, and if I have had but so much as any such thought, I beseech him never to pardon me. One day will come that you will know my Innocence, and that you will have a regret for having unjustly suspected me. 'tis the Consolation I carry along with me now I am dying, nay, and I tell you that I die the most satisfied Person in the World.  
Ah! Madam, said the Duke to her, his heart being pierced with so touching a discourse, Live rather to see my Repentance. I may have been jealous without wounding your honour, and beauteous as you are, might not I apprehended some or other should undertake to supplant me! There needs no more then seeing you to cause such a Design to be entertained, your discretion is not capable of quashing it; and if notwithstanding the little likelihood there is of obtaining such ends upon so Virtuous a Person, there are nevertheless such People as will keep their Intentions alive upon the least glimmering of hopes, why will you not give me leave to tremble when I see them harbour any such thoughts? You will doubtless, tell me that I have no reason to tremble; But I must answer you at the same time that their hopes being as ill grounded as my fear, it is pardonable in me that I take the alarum, seeing that they contrive to rob me of my only Blessing. This is all I can say in my Justification, to which I add an extreme Repentance, and a sincere Confession of my fault.  
Madam d' Elboeuf being overjoyed to see him harbour such sentiments: And I for my part pardon you, said she to him, because I love you; and I believe you to be only jealous because you love me. Whether God disposes of me, or restores me to my health, you shall never hear a word of it from me. I believe you to do the Like, since if I should see you relapse into the same fault you could never obtain my pardon. Mr. d' Elboeuf vowed he would never speak to her upon any such account, and after having caressed her to a high degree, which was still more persuasive to this Lady than his words, he withdrew into his own Chamber, whereabout an hour after he was seized with a terrible fever. This was kept as a secret from Madam d' Elboeuf, for fear of making her worse, and as it was impossible but that she must inquire after him, Madam de Guise continuing still to be about her, thought convenient to make her believe, that the King was gone to Fontainebleau, and that he had taken him along with him. How, without saying anything to me, Madam d' Elboeuf retorted, and this is quickly giving the lie to his last Conversation! Nevertheless, that she might not find so much fault with his absence, Madam de Guise gave a Gentleman order to come once in two days, as if sent by the Duke to inquire after her health. This Trick sped for the first time; but the duchess having taken it ill that he had not writ to her, the Gentleman was forced to contrive another shame, upon the account of his not bringing any Letter as yet. The same pretence was used in four or five several Visits he paid her: One while the King had sent for him to play at Tennis, when he had just his Pen in his hand: another while, that he had sent for him to go a Stagg-hunting, or to engage him in some other business, and still that great name interposed it's Assistance, as the only Cloak they had to Cover the Reality. But the duchess at the long run, after having once or twice been thus deluded, suspecting she was imposed upon, designed to repair herself to Fontainbleau, whither her strength that was very much restored, since the Conversation she had had with her Husband, made her believe she might go without prejudicing her health.  
Many resolutions are there that are not attended with performance, but the duchess had no sooner framed hers, but that she would have taken Coach, notwithstanding all they could say to her to divert her from it. Thus were they obliged to own her Husbands Condition to her, and tho' her knowing him in danger afflicted her extremely, she nevertheless received some comfort for the reason I am going to allege. She had attributed his absence and silence to his sleights for her; Now there being no room for any such thought since she knew the occasion, she bent her mind wholly upon giving him assistance. She went directly to his Apartment,& finding him in a much more dangerous Condition then they had informed her he was, she gushed out into tears. Not satisfied with giving him these Instances of affection, she would suffer no Body besides her self to give him what was requisite. Mr. d' Elboeuf not being able to endure to see her take so much pains, conjured her to leave those offices to the People that were about him; but as if she had been afraid that the Remedys would lose their virtue in their hands, she would by no means obey him.  
In the mean while the Duke's illness proceeded to such an Extremity, that the Physicians desired his Confessor to bid him think of his Conscience. He received this news without appearing to be in any wise concerned, and after having disposed himself for death, he bid Madam d' Elboeuf, whom he saw all in Tears, to draw near him, and that he had something to say to her. She caused the Attendants to withdraw into another Room, and sitting upon his Bed-side: Cease bewailing Madam, said he to her, a Person that thinks himself a thousand times more happy in dying than if God restored him his health. It is now time or never to own to you, that I can no longer love you; So that tho' you may have heard me tell you the contrary in your illness, attribute it to a Remnant of Compassion and not to a real Love. Since you have rendered yourself unworthy of me, I am afraid so much as to look upon you: I shall not tell you that you have absolutely divested me of honour, nothing of that has fallen within my knowledge, and it is not in my power to Convict you of it; but know that a Civil woman ought to be as exempt from suspicion as from Crime. But what's this I say? It is not vpon a bare suspicion I accuse you; it is upon a Letter I myself found under your Pillow. What is more, you have received at your House the Person that writ it to you, and that in the very time, that I had newly specified, both by my reproaches and my Conduct, that there was a great deal to be blamed in your Carriage. He has been seen at your Beds feet, expressing to you his Concern at your illness, and you had not so much as the Precaution to forbid the man to mention it to me, that had order to acquaint me with your sickness.  
Madam d' Elboeuf who from the beginning of this Discourse had been surprised to a degree as is more easy to be imagined then represented by the Pen, would needs several times have interrupted him; but he had entreated her to let him make an end, without her interfering, promising after that to hear her as long as she pleased. Thus having not as yet absolutely unburthen'd his heart: Is this, Madam, continued he, what I was to expect from a Woman whom I tenderly loved before I married her, whom I have passionately loved since that time, and whom I should all my Life have loved more than myself, if she had not given me reason to hate her. Nevertheless since God calls me out of this world, and would have me forgive as he has forgiven us, draw near me, and embrace me, I beseech him to give you the Grace to know yourself, and that calling me to mind, you tell yourself sometimes that I merited another guess usage.  
Madam d' Elboeuf was seized with so violent a grief, hearing him talk in this manner, that it was a wonder she had the power to make him any answer. Nevertheless it being her Interest not to let him depart this Life without justifying her self; It's with an unparalell●d amazement, Sir, said she to him, that I hear all these Reproaches, and if I might have interrupted you, I should long since have done it, to have required of you the sight of a Letter so fatal to your repose and mine. For if I know what it is, I wish God may punish me immediately, and the Paper you took from under my Pillow was only a Prescription of a certain Physician, who pretended to cure me without the others knowledge. He is still living to tell the truth of the matter, and if you found a Letter instead of that Prescription, the Devil must needs have a hand in the business. This is a wretched Evasion, Madam, the Duke replied, for a Woman of Wit, and tell me seriously if I ought to feed myself with this Chimaera. Hold, added he, giving her the Letter, here's the thing in Debate: This is not the Devil you talk of, that writ it, but the Cardinal himself. You pretend now to be surprised; But what can you now say to this? Must a Princess of your Rank dishonour her self by so scandalous an Amour; For after all if you take away from the Cardinal the lustre that proceeds from his favour, what would all the rest be? Am not I, without vanity, as much to be valued as he? And were it only that this has reduced me to my present Condition, have you no regret for having quitted me for him?  
Madam d' Elboeuf was so amazed at this Letter, that she knew not what answer to make. However having opened her mouth in order to her Justification. Ah! I very much suspected, said the Duke to her, that the Course you would take would be to deny all; But as I am not so very silly as to give Credit to your words, gratify me so far as to let me die in quiet. At these words he turned himself to the other side, and either that he fell into a swoon, or that the Passion with which he had spoken was injurious to him in that Condition, he was taken with a Convulsion fit, which obliged Madam d' Elboeuf to call in People to his Assistance. As the loss wherewith she was threatened, was so great as that she might well be allarum'd, they took no notice of her sorrow, which was imputed to quiter another source, then what was the real one. Mr. D' Elboeuf was very ill, and when his fit was over, the Physicians gave order that he should be left at Rest; and  told Madam d' Elboeuf that she must forbe●r seeing him, unless she had a mind to hasten his Death. She could not but look upon this order as very Cruel, but tho' she could not enjoy any repose, until that she had justified her self, nevertheless as nothing was dear to her in comparison of his Life, she abstained from going to see him.  
Thus the Duke after having had one foot in his Grave, return'd thence as it were by miracle, and having still the present misfortune before his eyes, he was very glad they had saved him the trouble of seeing a Person, whom he could not look upon without Resentment. And that she might not come to distrub his quiet, now that he was better, he desired the Physicians that they would continue the same Prohibitions to her, using as a pretence that the sight of her too tenderly affencted him, nay, and was capable of making him relapse. The Physicians without shrifting into the secret, did what he bid them, and Madam d' Elboeuf thinking him to be still in the same Condition, did with Patience attend upon the Recovery of his health. But he without giving her time to see him, no sooner saw himself fit to take the air but that he return'd to Blandi, where the Count de Soissons had still continued his abode.  
This Count after the Duke d' Elboeuf's departure which I already intimated, had laboured under an extraordinary Temptation of returning to Paris, whither he was summoned by the Dutchesses sickness: Nothing hindered him from so doing save the fear of displeasing her, especially considering how matters then stood, between her and her Husband. Nevertheless to free himself out of pain, he daily sent two Couriers to inquire alter her health,& was not at rest, till he knew her to be out of danger; he did the like when the Duke was ill, and since Madam d' Elboeuf could not be ignorant of this, since she her self had seen the Couriers that came to her Husband, she sometimes  told her self, notwithstanding the sorrow it became her to be under, that these Devoirs should rather have been due to Love then to friendship; which she would not however have said had she known that he had done the same for her as for him. However these sorts of fancies had but one moment between Life and Death, I mean that she immediately rejected them, as things unworthy of a Princess, and employing her thoughts wholly in recovering her Husbands Affection. For this purpose she would have gone to have found him out, as I may say, to the very end of the World, if he had not been in a house dangerous for her. The Count, notwithstanding her Resolutions, and her Duty, came daily into her mind, with all his Merit,& she was under apprehensions that if she came nearer him, it would be still worse. Yet perchance she would have passed over this Consideration in hopes her virtue would have brought her off, if she had not had another reason to Combat. She knew what had passed between the Count and Her, and she represented to her self that she could to go with a premeditated design not a Place where he was, without giving him the occasion of believing that he was the Principal occasion of her coming. Little did it avail her representing to her self in Contradiction to this Opinion, that the presence of her Husband authorised that step, this reflection vanished within a Moment after, by the Consequences which she drew that were absolutely opposite to it.  
In this Perplexity, she choose what she thought most conformable to her Duty, and as this was not to stir from Paris, it happened that Mr. d' Elboeuf, whose jealousy made every thing a shadow, imagined that her staying in Town was occasioned by the love she had for the Cardinal. This was new matter of sorrow for him, and the Count de Soissons seeing his grief daily augment, and knowing the reason of it, he partak'd therein, not as a Friend, but as a Party concerned. He fancied that this sadness could only proceed from some new Discovery he had made, and this Opinion taking every moment deeper root than other; at the long run his trouble was no less than that of Mr. d' Elboeuf. He made the same reflections this Prince had done, and after having weighed in his mind all there was pro& con, as jealousy hindered him from doing the duchess Justice, he derived the same Consequences from thence. Mr. D' Elboeuf could have cleared that matter to him sufficiently, but since his return he shunned all Conversations that had any relation that way; Insomuch that the Count fearing to violate the Laws of Hospitality, was obliged to show himself less curious.  
At last Monsieur d' Elboeuf being no longer able to endure himself, and fearing that if he stayed any longer there, he might happen upon some occasion or other to make the Count further acquainted with his Misfortune, which he had been vexed several times since he had imparted it to him, took leave of him, and retired to Joinville upon the Frontiers of Lorraine, being a Lordship belonging to the Duke de Guise. As soon as Madam d' Elboeuf knew what Road he had taken, she designed to follow him, and having accordingly spoken her mind to Madam de Guise, this Princess would needs conduct her a small days Journey from Paris, that is to say, as far as Villemareuil, a House of the Duke of Elboeufs, where the duchess his Wife fell sick, insomuch that she was forced to stop there against her will.  
The Cardinal who was ever extremely in love with her, tho' as often as he had dared to speak to her upon that matter, he had met with such usage as should have been capable of curing him of his Passion, no sooner knew of this her departure, but that it allarum'd him. All Unfortunate as he was, he had still the pleasure of seeing her sometimes at Court, and not being able to renounce that satisfaction, he resolved to hinder her further Progress. Knowing that her illness detained her at Villemareuil, he prevailed with the King to go to Monceaux, a palace Royal in those parts, and under Colour of being Godfather to a Child half way from Villemareuil, he continued his way by that House, going so slowly as that being overtaken by the Night about half a League thence, he sent to Madam d' Elboeuf to entreat her that she would afford him a Bed. This Princess found great matter of vexation in being thus obliged to receive his Eminency, and she  told Madam d' Guise that it was a strange thing that he had not the Discretion to see that he would incommode her in her Present Condition.  
Nevertheless he came, and as this Princess was not willing to let Madam de Guise perceive, that she had secret reasons that induced her to speak in that manner, she prevailed upon her self to make him a gracious Reception; that is to say, she received him, as she was obliged to receive the first Minister of the Crown. As for Madam de Guise having almost continually Occasion for him, she caressed him to a high Degree, nay and her Complaisance proceeded so far, that seeing Madam d'Elboeufs Indisposition hindered her from taking Care her self to have him well treated, she took it upon her. On this account she entreated him to Excuse her, if for certain reasons she was obliged to intermit his Company.  
The Cardinal, to whom she could not do a greater kindness, having made her answer that she was Mistress, and that he came not to incomode her, turned then towards Madam de' Elboeuf, whom he began to make some tender reproaches, for having so left Paris, without considering how much it would afflict him. But she, whom such like Discourses did in no wise please, entreated him that he would abstain from them. I shall so, Madam said he to her, since you will have it so; but I guess from whence so unjust a Command proceeds. If I was the Count de Soissons, you'd have more Complaisance for me: and besides I very well know that it is for the love of him you quit the Court. Several are so Silly as to believe that Monsieur d' Elboeuf has some share therein, I also know that you endeavour to keep them in that Opinion; But take notice that though you can easily impose upon them what you please, it is not so with me. It might be so, if I had only the assistance of natural Lights: But with those of Love, I dare tell you that you are mistaken, if you ever think to put the Change upon me. I know the Result of all that passed at Blandi. The Count seeing he should ever find in me, not a Rival dangerous by my merit, but by my Love, has prevailed with M. de Elboeuf & you, to go to Joinville, that so he may suddenly follow you thither. He fancied, that when he was once there, he should easily impose upon a Credulous Husband: but let him know that a Rival has more piercing eyes, and that I shall take care to prevent his effecting his Designs.  
Madam de Elboeuf had much ado to endure such like Discourses without interupting him; nevertheless having used so much violence upon her self as to hear him out, he had no sooner done his Extravagant way of talking, but that she  told him that by his manner of speech, he must needs fancy that he had over her Heart the same Empire he had over all France, that he must also needs think that the Quality of Minister, or the Porple, gave him a right to be wanting in Respect towards Persons of her Rank; But that to put an end to all at once, she was glad to tell him to his face, that it was not to him she was obliged to give an account, whether it was the Count de Soissons she loved or her Husband; that nevertheless she was willing to tell him, that on whatever side her heart turned, it would never be on his: That this being so it was to no purpose for him to continue his Importunities, that they had for a long while been troublesone to her, and that the longer he therein persevered, the more insupportable he would be to her.  
This answer that was capable of curing the most passionate man, could not however extinguish the love of this Minister. True it is indeed, that in that very moment, he was so full of spite and vexation, that he thought he hated her as much as ever he loved her. Thus looking on her with a furious eye; I plainly perceive, Madam, said he to her, that I suffered myself to be dazzell'd with a certain false glisteri●g. After all, your Merit is not greater than that of other People, and all well considered, the Difference there is only consists in my Opinion. Now that I am undeceived, what can I say more to you, but that you are of the humour of all Women, Who despise what●s Solid, and run after trifles. Wee shall s●e what the Count de Soissons will be capable of for your Service, and within a little while neither You nor your Husband shall find me, when you shall have Occasion for me.  
These were the Cardinals first motions, and having uttered some further menaces, he went out telling her that she might pursue her journey when she pleased, and that henceforward her Conduct should be indifferen● to him. Nevertheless as it is usual that a Lovers anger is but of short Continuance, it came to pass that he was no sooner out of her Chamber, but his passion recovered the same vigour it had, before. He as it were instantly forgot all she had said to him, and this did not better appear, than in his returning to her Chamber, as soon as he had supped. By ill luck for him, Madam de Guise kept her Company, and that Princesses presence, who after having taken care, as I have said, of entertaining him magnificently, had nothing more to hinder her from satisfying the Rights of Decency, having hindered him from saying what he had in his mind, he reserved himself for the next day, in hopes that he should perhaps meet with the Occasion of discoursing Madam de Elboeuf in private. But the same Obstacle still interposed, insomuch that he was obliged to take his leave of her after an indifferent manner.  
As his mind was wholly taken up with his Passion, he had no other thoughts on the way, than how to hinder her from going to Joinoille. This not being to be effected, without interposing the Kings Authority, he was no sooner arrived at Monceaux, but that he insinuated into his Majesty, that since the Duke d' Elboeuf's Retreat could have no other Tendency then to involve the State in troubles, he must of all necessity hinder the duchess from following him, that so she might serve for an Hostage of his fidelity, that the two journeys that Prince had taken to Blandi, denoted an underhand design, which it was necessary to prevent; that in a word in so doing consisted the safety of his Royal Person, and the public Tranquillity. Thus did the Cardinal slily cover the Motive that set him to work. The King immediately dispatched away a Privy Signet directing that Princess to stay at Villemareuil till farther orders, and the Person that was commanded to Carry it being informed that she was already departed, spurred on after her, and obliged her to return.  
During all these Intrigues the Duke her Husband was at Joinville still possessed with the same anxieties; and as if Destiny had Delighted in giving him new troubles, it happened that one of his Gentlemen, who was of the neighbourhood of Villemareuil,& with his leave had been some time at his own house, came to him four or five days after what had newly occurred. The Duke without dreaming of any thing; asked if he had no news to tell him, he who came from a place so near the Court; and this Gentleman thinking he could tell him nothing more positive than what has been newly recounted, acquainted him how the Cardinal had lain at Villemareuil, where were the Ladys Dutchesses of Guise and Elboeuf: that Madam De' Elboeuf going thence the next day to come to him, a Courier had been sent after her with a Privy-Signet to command her staying there till further order.  
This was Sufficient for the Duke d' Elboeuf who had nothing but his jealousy in his head, to make him believe that his Wife meaning to excuse her self toward him, had her self procured that order. If it was not so, said he to himself, Why was the Cardinal with her the Night afore. This is the result of their private Conversation, and the b●tter to Cloak their Contrivance, she must receive this order on the Road, 〈◇〉 she forsooth, might not be suspected to be in any wise concerned in't. The more he muz'd upon this adventure, the more did he extend this thought, that is to say, he studied to render himself still more unhappy. In the mean while after having spent eight days in all the anguish that jealousy can create, he grew in danger of sinking under it, when a Desire of revenge came in to his relief: A thought of that Nature is a kind of Consolation to a wretched Person, the Duke finding himself in some manner Solac'd by it, did absolutely resign himself up to it. He knew the Cardinal, according to the misfortune of all favourites. had almost as many Enemies as there were Persons in the Kingdom; Thus his first thought was to make himself the head of a Party against him, and he did not doubt of being Seconded by Persons of great consideration. He fixed his eyes principally upon M. de Bovillon, who had several reasons to complain of his Eminency; considering that not only he ●a● a parsonage that had many friends, but who could also afford him a retreat at Sedan, a Considerable Place of itself, but still more by it's situation, which being upon the frontiers of Germany and lorraine, it followed that whoever was Master of it, might maintain a Close Correspondence with those two States. One thing alone perplexed him in this enterprise, namely he very much doubted whether the Duke of Bovillon would depend on him, not that his Birth was equal to his; but because that fortune having made his Circumstances such as that he might equal himself to many Princes, he might prevail of the Advantages she gave him.  
This thought having put him to some pause, as he still perceived himself more and more inflamed with the desire of Revenge, he endeavoured to surmount this Difficulty, which he saw no other ways of doing, but by giving that Duke and himself a Head, whose Birth might be above them both. The Count de Soissons seemed to him altogether fit for this Design, his Quality of Prince of the Blood took away all sort of jealousy; Thus Bending his thoughts wholly upon engaging them Both, he sent Secretly to them to animate them against the Cardinal. But before I proceed to the result of these Intrigues, I should think it convenient to relate the posture of affairs at Monceaux, Blandi; and Villemareuil.  
As concerning Monceaux, the Cardinal notwithstanding he was the Guardian of the Sovereign Authority, plainly perceiving that it did not extend over Peoples very hearts, did the more resent the Dutchesses Cruelty, that notwithstanding all the ill usage he met with from her, it was impossible for him to wrest her from his mind. She pierced into his very Cabinet, where amid Affairs of greatest Consequence, she came to tell him that the Place he possessed might indeed Satisfy an Ambitious Spirit, but that when it was possessed with Love and ill used by his Mistress, one might indeed pass for a happy Person in the minds of all Mankind, but that far from being effectually so, one might affirm him to be very unhappy. And in truth the Cardinal did so little value his fortune, that when he was alone he did nought else, then lament his Condition. When he was even in the exercise of his Charge, he was so possessed with his Passion, that he was often so plunged in thought, as occasioned some to say that his great Wit degenerated into Folly. Those that spoken modestly of him, contented themselves with saying that his Vertigo's seized him oftener than was usual. And what made way to this Opinion, is that he began to be fond of Solitaryness; whence it was inferred that he was willing to conceal his Infirmites. But they never appeared more, tho' to speak the truth, they were not the same he was suspected of, than one day that the Sweedish ambassador had caused Audience to be demanded of him. He came from the Park of Monceaux, and as he had there only entertained himself with his Passion, his mind was still so full of it, when the ambassador came, that in the midst of the Discourse, he chanced to say Have not I done well in stoping the journey; But if gone, where should I now be? This Discourse surprised the ambassador, who knew not what to adapt it to, and having entreated him to tell him what it signified, as the Cardinal had perceived his own Start, and had a presence of mind: This is not so much besides the purpose as you imagine, he replied to him. I mean that there was a Carriage of Money just ready for your Master, and it was just a going but for a Secret hint I had of it's being necessary to renew his alliance before it was sent him. Now you interpose so much Difficulty in this Case that I am glad the money is still here. At least it shall not escape us, if your Master escapes us, and I care not tho' you know it, since I said it so loud.  
Now you must know that the ambassador did really cause Obstacles to intervene in the renewing the alliance that was between the two Crowns, not so much however out of the Desire his Master had of breaking with the King, as to oblige him to pay him more punctually the Subsidies he had promised him by the former Treaty. Thus hearing talk of money, which was the main hinge of the Affair, it was quickly concluded to Both sides Content. Nevertheless as the Cardinal was happy in all things, save in Love; The ambassador was so far from Imputing as an Absence of mind the Discourse he had begun with so little reason, he fancied he had only done it out of Policy, and to show that his Master did not want money.  
This is what passed at Monceaux: as concerning Villemareuil, the duchess was there under an inconceivable uneasiness, suspecting what was true, that is to say, that her Husband would be capable of believing, that the Privy▪ Signet by which she was stopped, had been Expedited with her Connivance. This thought, as may be guessed, was but too sufficient to rob her of her Quiet; Nevertheless she would have had wherewithal to comfort her self in the testimony of her own Conscience, if unluckily for her the Count de Siossons had not likewise come to disturb her in her Solitude. The Image of this Prince return'd every moment before her eyes, one while as having given her several expressions of Affection, another as an inconstant, who after having contented himself with having violated her heart, had used no further endeavours to persuade her that he had ever the same sensibility for her. This thought pleased her much more than the other, because she found it to be the means of driving away an Idea, which though it had not as yet caused her to make any step that shocked her virtue, did nevertheless appear to her altogether Criminal. It was not Sufficient for her to be exempt from Crimes in the eyes of all the world, she would likewise that her Conscience should not have any reproach to make her. possessed with these sentiments she was as far as Blandi to find him out, where she asked him whether it was possible he could have remained silent so long, if it had been true that he had been struck with the Passion, which he had had the Boldness to discourse her upon.  
But in the very time she thus did her Duty, she had reason to know, that the will to be Virtuous is not always sufficient. She her self made answer for this Prince, and  told her self that he who had been capable of refusing such advantages as he had done for the Love of her, was not capable of forgetting her. She represented to her self further, that she had entreated him not to speak to her of his passion, after which he went to confine himself in solitaryness, a certain testimony that he knew it would be impossible for him to obey her, at least without shunning the sight of her.  
It is easy to imagine the Effect which these sorts of thoughts produced they insensibly reduced her from the Love of her Duty to the Love of the Prince; and this without her reflecting on it in the least: so true it is that when we have a Propensity to any thing we go a great way in a little time. Nevertheless what hindered her Passion from making still a greater Progress, is that she conceived that it became not a Lover to have so much Obedience. I did indeed forbid him, said she to her self, the continuing to speak to me of Love; But did I forbid him the seeing me? It had been Sufficient in him to have obeyed me for two or three days, nay, and he ought highly to have valued that piece of Constraint to me; but thus to remain for near three Months without my hearing any News of him, is what I do not apprehended, and which he will also find a hard matter to justify to me.  
One day that she had spent two hours in such sort of reflections, she ferreted her Cabinet, where she had for a long time kept several Letters her Husband had formerly writ to her; but of so Passionate a Style, that whoever had red them, would have thought they had been from another than a Lover. She opened one of them, and that affecting her, she put 'em all into her Pocket; fancying that the perusing of them would be capable of bringing her back to her Duty. She likewise perceived the Duke's Picture, and after having viewed and withall besought that Resemblance to pardon in her the Love she had for another, she put it up with the Letters. Thence she went into a Wood near her House, where after having entertained her self still upon the same Subject, during a good space of time, she went into an Arbour, which the Duke had caused to be made on purpose to eat in, when he should have a fancy that way. She laid upon a ston Table that was there, the Picture and the Letters; and then first viewing one and then the others: I was innocent at that time, said she to her self, and why may not I say the same thing now? Is my Husband less Lovely than he was in those days? What is there I can find fault withall in him? And if he is jealous, is it not on that very account principally that I ought to love him? Do I not know that jealousy only proceeds from Love? Why then do I not take his Delicacy as a kindness? Let's still Examine his Conduct on another side. Notwithstanding his Discontent, he never gave me any ill language. He has only lamented his misfortune. What could he do less? And I would feign know, in case I had had to do with another, whether I should not have suffered more from his ill humour.  
Such were the Lady duchess of Elbaufs Reflections, when she saw her self in an Imminent danger, and whence she was freeed by the hand that was most grateful to her. But for the recounting this business in due manner, it is requisite to speak of what was done on another side. The Duke d'Elboeuf being tormented to the highest point of jealousy, resolved to depart secretly from Joinville, and to draw near the place of his Wife's Residence. Whereupon he took Horse with barely a Valetde chamber, and instead of following the High-Road, when he was got to Chalons, he turned upon the Left, resolving to pass by Blandi, where indeed he had also business, by reason the Count de Soissons scrupled to declare himself the Head of a Party, which tho' it had no other aim than the Cardinals ruin, would nevertheless be accounted Criminal in the Opinion of many Persons. He found the Count who lead a very retired Life, and for the making him approve of his Designs, he represented to him the Cardinal's violence, who made use of the Authority he had in his hands to indulge his Passion: That it was not extraordinary that a man in his Post had delivered a Privy Signet for the making sure of a Woman for whom he had a kindness; but that it would be very extraordinary if He who was her Husband, and whose Honour was therein concerned, should suffer it without using his utmost endeavours to put a stop to this violence: Nevertheless that the Innocent might not be confounded with the Culpable, he was resolved to proceed to Villemareuil, where he would remain concealed in a place he knew very well, till such time as that he could discover whether his Wife connived at the Cardinal's Designs.  
The Count to whom he had already spoken of his jealousy, had been for a time as well as he prepossessed against his Eminency; But since the Conversation he had had with Madam d'Elboeuf, he had been in some manner cured of it. Nevertheless as a small matter is capable of opening such like wounds a-new, it came to pass that the Duke's suspicions fixed themselves so deeply in his mind, that there needed nothing more to make him vow the Cardinal's ruin. Without, in any wise, remembering the reasons that had hindered him from declaring himself the Head of a Party against him, he promised the Duke of Elboeuf more than he meant to ask of him, even so far as to swear that his Eminency should never perish by any other hand than his. After the Duke d'Elboeuf had dispatched a Courier to the Duke de bovillon to acquaint him with what passed, he would have taken leave of the Count de Soissons to go to Villemareuil; but the Count  told him that after having united his fortune to his, as he had newly done, he would not suffer that he should expose himself all alone in a place so near his enemy: that he would keep him Company, and that he should at least judge by these beginnings, with how much heat he would embrace his Interests.  
He thus slily covered under the pretext of friendship, the desire he had to see the duchess, to whom besides he resolved to give notice to be upon her guard as to her Conduct, that so if she had really some underhand Correspondence with the Cardinal, she might be wary in her Carriage. Few jealous Lovers are so obliging, and it's well known that this Passion commonly breaths Murder and Revenge. But this difference is to be made, that a man usually desires no more than his Rival's Death; but as for that of the Mistress, the Cruelty does not proceed so far, as to wish to see her butted under the same ruins. At least there is more of this Sentiment, than of the other,& what's most certain is that the Count was of the same here asserted.  
Thus still insisting to accompany the Duke, notwithstanding that this latter would have declined it out of Reasons of Decency, and perchance also because he should have been vexed, should he come to discover any thing, at length he gained his point. Then they both took Horse,& alighted by night in the burrow of Villemareuil, at a mans house that kept an Inn, and who had been formerly the Duke d' Elboeufs Footman. This Duke forbid him to tell any body of their coming,& having spent the rest of the night there, the● went out the next morning by a back door, which was not far from the Wood, where the duchess commonly walked.  
This happened to be the very day she was there, and they entered that Grove thro' a Breach that was in the Wall. They went about Twenty five or thirty paces together, speaking softly to one another, nay and hiding themselves behind the Trees for fear any one should perceive' em. But when they came pretty near the Arbour, the Duke went before, beckoning the Count to follow him. The Duke being come thither without making any noise, looked thro' the leaves, and perceived his Wife, who had displayed, as I have said, all her merchandise. The Picture was on one side, the Letters on another, and she held one in her hand which she was reading. I leave it to be guessed what he fancied at this sight; he imagined it to be the Cardinals Letters and Picture, and I wonder he broken not in upon her, as he did within a moment after, to have run his Sword through her body. But having been stopped by his Good Angel, he still continued looking, as if he could have seen more. Madam d'Elboeuf after having done reading that Letter, which was extremely tender, it so very much affencted her, that the tears gushing from her eyes, she took out her handkerchief to wipe' em. This was again a fresh signal sufficiently provoking to make the Duke launch in upon her, but he refrained so doing; But for reasons I can't imagine, and the less, since to speak the truth, methinks if I had been in his place, I should not have had so much Patience.  
In the mean while the Count advanced softly, tho' the Posture he saw him in, must needs have given him occasion to believe that he viewed something that challenged Attention. Step by step however he came up to him, and it was just in the time that the Duke being no longer able to contain himself, thought convenient to burst in. Now you must know that the duchess after having wiped her eyes, had taken up the Picture I mentioned, and having viewed it, as it were to make it reparation for the Sentiments she had sometimes entertained for the Count: No, there's only you, said she, who merits to be beloved; and finding her self seized with a remnant of dying Affection, she took and kissed it. Ah! This is too much, cried out the Duke at the same time, who could no longer contain himself, at this Action, and taking his Sword in his hand he rushed towards the Arbour-door, and was infallibly going to kill this Princess, if the Count, who made up immediately, had 〈◇〉 with held his Arm. The Princess fell into a Swoon, perhaps as much from the surprise she was in to see the Count, as at her Husbands rage. The Duke on his part let fall his Sword out of grief at his being bound to kill a Woman whom he tenderly loved, but whom he thought he was no longer bound to love after what he had seen. The Count only put a good face upon the matter, tho' to speak the truth, he had no more reason to laugh than the rest. He guessed by the Letters he saw upon the Table, and the Picture the duchess still held in her hands, whence the Duke's rage proceeded, and thinking he had no less reason than he to be jealous, he was so much the more to be pitied, as that he was oblige d not to let the least appear of what he had at heart.  
The Dutchess's Swoon was not long, and the first thing she did after, having opened her eyes, was this: What have I done to you, Sir, that you would needs kill me, and that you must needs take the Count for a Witness of your jealousy? How, what you have done to me? the Duke replied, What, join Impudence to shane? This is what I can ne're endure, and which indeed is insupportable. Upon these words he endeavoured to burst out of the Count's hands, to Sacrifice her to his Resentment, and Madam d'Elboeuf let fall the Picture out of fear, endeavouring to save her self around the Table. This Picture fell pretty near the Count, and endeavouring to take it up, yet without letting Mr. d'Elboeuf go, he did so tho' with some difficulty. He immediately cast his eyes upon it; but his surprise was not small, when he saw it to be the Dukes. Nor small was that of this Prince, when he perceived it to be his own Picture, and what would he not have given to have repaired what he had done? He threw himself at his Wifes feet, protesting to her that he would remain there eternally, unless she would pardon him. In the mean while the Count being as jealous of the Duke as he could have been of a Lover, endeavoured to contain himself, that he might not make known what passed in his heart; not being however able to contain his Curiosity, he cast his eyes upon the Letters, while the Duke who was in the posture of a Supplicant had his back turned, and he really saw that they were Love-Letters, which the duchess had formerly received from her Husband. This was new matter of vexation to him, especially when he saw that the duchess, without otherwise remembering what had happened, threw her Arms about the Duke's Neck, not only promising him never to remember what had newly happened, but also to impute all to the Affection he had for her.  
This Reconciliation having thus been made in the Count's presence, they all went to the Castle, where the Duke forbid all to speak of his arrival. The Count was there witness of several Caresses they made one another, which cast him under the utmost Despondency. To free himself from so ungrateful a Scene, he would needs take leave of the Duke, and return to Blandi; But the Duke, who could not stay long so near the Court, without it's being known, and who feared the worst from the Cardinals ill will, entreated him to defer a day or two,& that he would go along with him. Tho' the Term was short, it lasted a long time to the Count de Soissons, who that he might no longer be a Witness of the same things he had seen, since he had been in that House, was almost continually in the Wood, possessed with his amorous thoughts. One day that he went thither very early, Madam d'Elboeuf, who notwithstanding her Reconciliation with her Husband, had nevertheless an e●e to all he did, being curious of knowing what he did there, went thither presently after him, and having walked from one end of the Grove to the other without finding him, she bethought her self of going to the Arbour where her Husband had met her. He had gone in there, as a place befiting his pensive thoughts, and having placed himself upon the Bank that went round the table, he leaned his Head upon his hand, making it evident by his Countenance, that he had some great matter of Sadness. Madam d'Elboeuf who was placed exactly to look him in the face, at the same time made the Application of his musing to her self, and tho' by all I have already said, it is manifest that such a sight could not be over-gratefull to her, she nevertheless felt some satisfaction in telling her self that it was for her sake that this Prince sighed.  
While she was wholly possessed with this thought the Prince gave several sighs, which melted her still the more. But she was quickly diverted from these tender movements by an action of his, for he took a Picture out of his Pocket, and viewing it amorously he said some words, but so low that she could not understand them; after which kissing it still more amourously than he had veiw'd it, he did the same thing five or six times with such a Transport, that it strangely amazed her. However it had been nothing had she proceeded no farther than Amazement, but she was sensible notwithstanding all she could say to her self, that she was more concerned at it than became her. She a thousand times called him faithless in her heart, which still more amazing her, than at what she had seen, she fancied she could not too soon get away from a place where her virtue ran so much risk of being undone. This was her Resolution; but which was quickly belied by her heart. She again in spite of her self peept through the Arbour, and seeing the Count there still in the same Posture, her jealousy redoubled to such a point as made her do what her virtue had not done. Let's fly, whispered she to her self, the sight of a Man that is Unworthy of the Trouble he darts into my heart, and whose Infidelity ought to render him a thousand times more odious than he ever appeared lovely to me. In saying this away went she from that Place, but so besides her self, that she did not mind that her Gown was fastened upon a Branch. And as she brushed through hastily, she made a noise in tearing off her clothes, and this noise having roused the Count out of his Amorous thoughts he put again his Picture hastily into his Pocket, and coming out of the Arbourdoor to see whence it proceeded, he was strangely surprised when he saw the Duchess whom he could not but know, though her back was turned. He ran after her, and having quickly overtaken her: Whither do you run Madam, said he to her, and after having had the Cruelty to forbid me to speak to you of a Passion that has tormented me so long, would you still be so cruel as to deprive me of your Presence, when Fortune does afford it me? Consider what violence I have done myself, in refraining to see you: Consider my Affliction in knowing you sick,& incapacitated from giving you any ease. Add to this my vexation at my not being permitted to go to your Door to inquire after your health,& you will certainly conclude that never any trouble was comparable to mine. Nevertheless this is not all that I have been obliged to Suffer, I have been forced to be myself a Witness of your tenderness for a Husband, I must compose my looks, Shun your eyes; what shall I say? In short, appear quiter different from what I am, and when for to ease my mind after so many torments, which any other than I would have sunk under, Heaven now permits that I might see you one moment with out somuch Constraint; you fly me Madam, as if all I have now said did not merit some Pitty.  
Madam de Elboeuf had stood still at his first words, and she was very much surprised after what she her self had seen, to hear him speak in that manner, yet thinking that it became her rather to give Credit to what she had seen then to what she now heard, she armed her self with a Certain Haughtiness that was natural to her, and looking upon him with great Contempt; Your Birth, said she to him, sets you above me; but in short, mine is not so inferior to yours as to allow you with impunity to make a Mock of a Princess. The Count who expected quiter another answer, was mightily surprised at this, wherein the duchess seemed to him more incredulous then Cruel. Insomuch that imagining all he had to do was to undeceive her. Ah! would to God Madam, said he to her, that I had only to Combat the unjust Suspicion I now observe in your Answer; With how much case could I bring that about, I that have done for you more then ever Man will do for a Mistress: Where shall you see, not a Prince of the blood as I am, but a mere Gentleman, that would have renounced so great an Establishment as I have done? Who would banish himself from Court for fear of displeasing you, and who after having passed a long time in that Exile, returns as fond and as Passionate as ever, to tell you, that it is only you he Loves? Where is the Lover that after having been Witness as I have been these two days of the Affection you have for your Husband should still Persevere in his Passion? What can I say to myself upon such a sight, save that there are no hopes for me, yet has not this been Capable of making me desist, and you still see me the same you ever saw me.  
The Princess knew not how to reconcile these words with the action she had seen him do, but what troubled her still more, was how to reconcile her Virtue with a Conversation so Contrary to it. In this Perplexity she remained sad and Confused, and the Count being strangely amazed at her silence, and at the State he saw her in. What is the Meaning of this Madam, he answered, and are you sorry for having unjustly accused me, or do Persevere you in your injustice? speak, let not Pitty make you silent, and know that in the Present Extremity of my Affliction, you can render me but little more Miserable. The duchess still labouring under the same Perplexity, knew not what to resolve on; But at last being provoked to the highest degree, that a man that she had seen kiss anothers picture, should dare to discourse her in this manner, she no longer gave ear save to her resentment. Wherefore darting him a look, wherein Anger sparkled amid jealousy: This is too much, said she to him, thus to offend me doubly; I know that my Circumstances do not allow me to admit any such Discourse, and as you yourself know it, 'tis a reason that should impose silence on you, and which by Consequence, when you break it, you make me sensible of the little Consideration you have for me. But to do it, when you have no inclinations to induce you, and that might excuse you, is, properly speaking, a Trepan, and for which I must own to you, that I should be overjoyed to have the opportunity of being revenged. The Count would have interrupted her,& shown her the injustice of her accusation, but the duchess to prevent him; Let's lay aside, said she to him, so many needless Discourses, and to make an end of all at once, know that I myself saw you kiss a Picture but a moment ago; and as I know very well it is none of mine, you must not take it ill if I refer you to it as often,& whenever for the passing your time, your fancy shall led you to entertain me with your Amorous Discourses.  
The Count, who attributed to his misfortune, all the harsh words he had newly heard from the Princess, was overjoyed to find the source of them in another subject. And unwilling to undeceive her without first discovering why she appeared so sensible to that sight; True, indeed, Madam, said he to her, I did put a Picture near my face; but who  told you it was that of a Mistress? I never thought of kissing it; but finding that it smelled very finely, I was willing to recreate myself with the scent of it; and yet this is the whole matter upon which you ground your accusation. Pish, pish, Madam, d' Elboeuf cried, you might thus perhaps impose upon others, but I am not to be caught by so slender a wile, and assure yourself you'l find no such easy Creatures here.  
The Count was transported with joy at his hearing all these reproaches, whence he inferred, that peradventure he was not indifferent to her. Wherefore still more and more to detect how his case was, Yet what I  told you, Madam, was true, he said to her; Besides, Madam, what would my insincerity avail with you? You that have eyes only for your Husband, and not content with the expressions you might give him of it in Private, cannot refrain from rend'ring me myself with ss of it? After this, what hopes can I have, and can any thing else besides the Power of Truth oblige me to pitty myself? 'tis you that I love; and tho' I were reduced to dissemble, it would nevertheless easily be perceived, that 'tis you that possesses my heart, tho' my Desires should seem tending for another. That is to say, Madam d' Elboeuf replied, that I ought not to have any regard to what I have seen, and that I ought rather to credit your words. Yes, Madam, the Count renewed, and if I was so happy, as it is far from it, that you had the least of those Weaknesses for me, which you have for your Husband, I assure you, that you far from having any jealousy of that Picture, would be overjoyed that I had it ever in my hands. How! is it a Remedy of Love, Madam d' Elboeuf immediately repartee'd? and perchance without making reflection on her promptness, since this alone was capable of discovering what she was willing to conceal. I say not so, Madam, the Count retorted, but all I can say to you is, that tho' your Husband himself should have this Picture, I assure you it would not give you one moments disturbance. This had been a sufficient hint, had Madam d' Elboeuf the least suspected his having her Picture; but being very far from any such thought; 'tis matter of Fact, then, said she to him, and if you'l give me leave to view it, I shall be able to judge how far you are i'th' Right.  
This is what the Count waited for, and deriving from her Curiosity most advantageous Consequences for himself: Yes, Madam, said he to her, I'll show it you; But give me leave first to make it the due Reparation of Honour. I  told you a while ago that I did not kiss it, and now I must tell you that I adore it's Original, and which is more, that I shall adore it as long as I live, notwithstanding her Cruelty. Upon these words he gave her that Picture, and the duchess mightily concerned at what she had newly heard, looked upon it with so much Precipitation, that it alone was sufficient to give him to understand that she acted out of another motive than that of Curiosity. But oh the Operation when she saw it was her own Picture! She not only changed Colour, but also casting down her eyes, as if she had been caught doing some ill Action: Ah! Prince, she said to him, what delight can you take in Creating trouble to yourself? And if it be true that you love me, what do you expect from a Passion that cannot be approved of, and for which it is still more difficult to be grateful? I know it very well, Madam, the Count made answer, and you also see that I had the Discretion never to speak of it to you more; I confined my Griefs within my own Bosom, and if I had not perceived that you was going to think of me that I loved another, my silence should have expressed to you, that let it have cost me what it would to have obeyed you, I had so much Love and Respect for your Commands, that I would have died a thousand times sooner than have disobeyed you. Thus you must blame yourself if I did it; It was for you to have believed that I could love no other after having loved you: If you do not believe me, you need only view your own Picture, it represents the most lovely Person that ever was, and would you not own that I had but very little judgement, did I not prefer it before all things?  
The Occasion that was offered for the Count to express his Passion, was so very Charming to him, that he did not remember to redemand his Picture. The surprise also that Princess was in, or perhaps her joy to see him faithful, when she had imagined him far from being so, did so possess her thoughts that she had not as yet dreamed of asking him whence he had it. But when these first Transports were Evaporated on Both sides, the Count with great reason apprehending that she would not restore it him, required it of her at the same time that she had her mouth open to know of him whence he had it. The Duchess did not stand to Consider what Course to take, she absolutely refused it him, and after having known by what means he had had it, she said it was not reasonable he should avail himself of a thing that belonged to another, and which would engage her Conscience. That she intended to sand it again to the duchess of Savoy; but that she would take her measures so well that it should not have the same Destiny on the way. She said these last words to him smiling, as if she had a mind to sweeten his Concern for her denial, or rather as if she was minded to give him the hint, that since he had been able to get it so dexterously, the same ways were open to him, since he was refused in his Request. The Count did not consider this at first, and was so possessed with the Desire of having it again, that his aim lay wholly upon Employing his rhetoric to prevail with her; but not speeding in that, he made it his business to inquire when the Picture was to be dispatched, and laid People in Ambuscade, that so he might not fail of it.  
While all this passed, the Cardinal being ever possessed with the same thoughts, that is to say, being ever in Love with the duchess, he gained a maid of Hers, whom she honoured so far as to make her her Confident. she let him know that the Count and the Duke were at Villemareuil, and as he had the Address to make the King believe all he was minded, he insinuated to him that those two Princes being so near his Court, not only without coming to pay him their Respects, but also incognito, they must have some ill Design against his Person; This was sufficient for the obtaining an order to take them into Custody: But Mr. de Chavigny Secretary of State, who was to sign it, being the Count de Soissons particular friend, had no sooner expedited it, but that before it was delivered into their hands, who were to put it into Execution, he by an express Courier sent to acquaint him of what occurred. The Count having shew'd the Intimation he had newly received to the Duke of Elboeuf, This Prince who dreaded the Cardinal so much the more, as knowing that to indulge the Passion he had for his Wife, he would omit no manner of means, said at the same time that it was necessary to be gone, but that they must first put themselves in disguise. The Count de Soissons was somewhat of the same opinion, tho' to speak the truth he was very loathe to quit an abode, where he saw all he had most dear, the duchess who was of the Council, went her self to fetch two habits, which with some others she had caused to be made for the Capuchins of Meaux, who received of her Charity, and caused these two Princes to put them on. But both finding that there wanted Beards to these Robes, they sent to seek for false ones in the Duke's Guardrobe, where some were by chance, by reason of a Masquerade he had made some years before at Monceaux, the habits of which had been carried to Villemaruel.  
Tho' Considering their Circumstances it was no very seasonable time to make love, it is nevertheless certain that the Count ever& anon cast his eyes upon the duchess, to give her to understand, that all unhappy as he was in her presence, he was going to be infinitely more, when he should be remote from her. The duchess on her part was not exempt from the uneasiness that an approaching absence is wont to create, and though she used her utmost endeavours to repress those sentiments, it was impossible for her to effect it, she was surprised at her Weakness, and as she was in such a Disorder as was easy to be perceived, she was overjoyed that she had a pretence to cloak it. The Privation of her Husband being the finest Pretext she could use, she failed not to improve it. In the mean while her heart every moment giving her the lie, she cast her eyes ever and anon upon the Count, and finding his incessantly fixed upon her, it was impossible for her to hinder hers from being affencted. Nothing convinced him better of it than what she did. After having embraced her Husband several times, not only to bid him Adieu, but likewise to make him a kind of reparation for what she dared to do in his Presence, as she drew near the Count, who made up to Salute her, she dexterously restored him her Picture; a favour which so rejoiced that Prince, that he now thought not the least of the misfortune under which he had like to have sunk before. But for as much as that the Princess was mightily out of Countenance at what she had newly done, she only sought to conceal her Disorder, and as after such an Action as that, she had much ado to bear his looks, she feigned that her Affliction for the Departure of so Dear a Husband, did not allow her to be present at it.  
Thus can Persons of address dissemble upon Occasion: And indeed the Duke presuming himself to be the only Cause of her being in that Condition, went a way so very sorrowful, that one would have said that he had partend from her for all his Life. I shall not say how the Count laid it to heart, it is easy to apprehended that as the Desires of a Lover are incomparably stronger than those of a Husband, in like manner there was a vast difference as to what they Both underwent upon the thoughts of the ensuing Absence.  
On the way they met with the Guards that were sent to take them into Custody, and if they had not been disguised as they were, certain it is that they had not escaped their Cluches: But they far from suspecting that they had what they sought for, before their eyes, they let em pass, without taking the least notice of their Persons. These two Princes were not without some apprehensions at this sight, and at first imagined that these Guards had had notice of their march, for as much as that the way they took was not that of Monceaux. But this had been done by mere hazard, and the Guards had thought fitting to go a by Road, that no suspicion might be harboured where their aim lay.  
By good luck the Duchess had not as yet revealed their retreat, or Disguise to her Confident, and after the Guards had invested the Castle, He who Commanded them, entered with some of them, and asked the domestics for the Count and the Duke d' Elboeuf. But they giving him no account, he went up to the Duchesses Chamber, to whom he made the same Compliment. But as she was at a loss what answer to make them, as whether they had been in the Castle, or were gone, she remained some time without replying; which vexing the Officer: What I ask of you, Madam, said he to her, is only to spare you the vexation of seeing me ferret every Corner. If I do not find them in one place I shall find them in another, and you may easily judge that having caused your Castle to be invested, they cannot escape me, since I am certain of their being here. Madam d' Elboeuf, who during this compliment had had time to make reflection that the longer she detained him, the fairer would the opportunity be for the Count and her Husband to make their escape, bid him then search where he pleased, and that for her part, she knew nothing of what he enquired. Upon this the Officer left not a Corner unsearcht, but no body being to be found, he left his Guards a round the Castle, and posted away to give the Cardinal an account of what he had done. This put his Eminency into a Passion against him, and after having  told him that his head should answer for his Commission, he sent him back with a Letter for the Dutchess's Confident, whom he entreated to tell the Bearer what was become of the Count and Duke.  
The Officer being return d to the Castle performed his Message and the damsel, who as I have said, had not been made privy to the Secret, thinking those two Princes to be still there, bid him search, and that he would find them. In the mean while the● got to the Frontiers of Champagne and being come into the House o● a Gentleman, who was th● Count's friend, they shifted thei● clothes and took others mor● conformable to their State● Thence they withdrew to Seda● where luckily for them they arrived the moment they did; an hour or two later had been too late. And indeed, the Officer after having searched Villemareud from one end to the other, had no sooner perceived the rest of the clothes which Madam d'Elboeuf had caused to be made for the Capuchins, but that he suspected that those two Princes had made their escape in those Equipages, nay, and that they were the two Religious he had met. Now this suspicion growing still stronger and stronger in his mind, he traced 'em to the very Gentelmans house, where they had made a halt, and finding there also the two Habits that had served for their Disguise, he endeavoured to find out which way they had taken thence, and finding it to be that of Sedan, he pursued them, but in vain, even as far as under the Walls of that Town.  
Having related all these Circumstances to the Cardinal, his Eminency being very willing to Cloak his Love with the good of the State, left Guards at Villemareuil to secure the duchess for himself. Nay he went to see her, as he  told the King, to shrift into her Husbands Designs Yet when with her, that was the least of his Discourse. On the contrary he  told her that he was very unhappy, in that Love obliged him against his will, to use violence, which was in no wise his Inclination; that a word of her mouth would call back her Husband when she pleased but that as for the Count de Scissons, he was too jealous of him ever to suffer his return, Madam d'Elboeuf, who had but little kindness for him before, hated him still more upon his letting her know that he was the Author of the Persecution that Prince suffered, on the account of his loving her, desired him to discontinue this discourse. She  told him that it ill became him to deceive the King, as he did, and that if she did not know that he had so enchanted the King's Senses, that all she could tell him would be to no purpose, she would go directly to inform him that what occurred had quiter another source than that he was made to believe. I do not doubt it, Madam, the Cardinal made answer, and your Concern for the Count de Soissons would make you do far more; but you who thus threaten me, are not you afraid that I should inform your Husband that you have no mind he should return, unless it be in the Count's Company? Go, Madam, added he, there needs no more for a man that has some experience of the world, and if I was not withheld by Sentiments that you long since was acquainted withall, what a Tempest might I not raise in your family. But if you are not capable of managing yourself for my sake, at least do it for your own. True, I love you with so much Passion, that it can never enter into my mind that I should be ever capable of doing you any Injury; But after all, Who can answer for the Discretion of an Unfortunate, and is it not your part to be afraid of my Despair?  
Madam d'Elboeuf was in some perplexity how to retort to this Discourse. Though he had no reason to threaten her as he did, she could not deny but that he had more in reproaching her, that she did not wish for her Husbands liberty without the Counts. However being almost assured that Mr. d'Elboeuf would hold suspected all that came from him, she little minded to manage him any longer, and quiter the contrary she said so many disobliging things to him that he went away almost mad. He was still full of his Resentment when he arrived at Monceaux; So that when he came to make his Report to the King, he envenomed his mind against that Princess, Insomuch that his Majesty was of Opinion to have her taken into Custody. He would have consented to it in that Rage, if the thing had been conformable to his Interests; but considering that this would not be only pushing it too far, but also the depriving himself of the Conveniency of seeing her with the same ease he might do at Villemareuil, he insinuated into the King that it would be sufficient to set Guards upon her, so that those who were in her House had orders to stay there. Madam d'Elboeuf was highly provoked at these Proceedings, and not being suffered to go one step, without being every where accompanied by these Guards, her Aversion for the Cardinal augmented in such manner, that now she could not hear him mentioned without shivering.  
His Eminency's Confident, who was well paid for minding his Interests, did frequently intimate to him that this Princess'es Spirit was hereby so exasperated, that unless he very quickly interposed some necessary remedy, it would be past all Reconciliation; that being, as she was, wholly devoted to him, he must needs think, she would have as strict an eye to her Conduct as all the Guards in the world could have: That it was therefore expedient to remove 'em out of hand, nay and express some repentance to her, rejecting all upon the Passion with which she had inflamed him. The Cardinal found a great deal of reason in this Council, and after having recommended Fidelity and exactness to her, the Guards were taken away, to the Princess's satisfaction; but with order to her not to stir from Villemareuil.  
As soon as the Princes were arrived at Sedan, the Spaniards lying at watch to plunge the Kingdom into a Civil War, had sent a Person of Wit& Authority to them, to offer them to assist them with all their Forces, if they were minded to take up Arms. But Mr. de Soifsons being unwilling to swerve from his Duty, unless thereunto forced by the greatest Persecutions, gave this Envoy for answer, that he was much obliged to him for the pains he had taken; but that he could not give him any positive answer until he had seen the measures the Court should take against him. The Spaniards, who were very glad to give a jealousy to the Crown, were cautious of publishing this Answer, and quiter the contrary, they endeavoured every where to insinuate that they had made a secret Treaty with him. The Cardinal was the first that was imposed on by this Artifice, and not being so much in Love but that he thought of preserving his Authority, which would have run a risk of being subverted during a Civil War, he dispatched the Count de Fiesque to Sedan, to persuade the Princes to return to Court. This Lord had ever been one of the Count's intimate Friends, nay and was still as much as he had ever been On this score was it the Cardinal had pitched upon him, preferably to many others, hoping the Engagement between them two, would give the more weight to his negotiation. Besides he himself had a Confidence in him: This Lord being poor, had of late made his Court to him, as the only Channel by which Grants and favours could pass. Thus to oblige him to make him speed in this Affair, he promised him Mountains and Wonders, and the Count de Fiesque on his part gave him hopes that he would so efficaciously interpose, that he should have all manner of reason to applaud him for his Services.  
Matters being ordered in this manner on both sides, the Count de Fresque was ready to take horse, when he received a Letter by which he had notice given him that if he was still a friend of the Count's, he should be cautious of persuading him to return to Court; that he would be no sooner arrived there, than that he would be clapped up; that the Cardinal who was a Cheat had not made him privy to the Secret; that it was nevertheless a Truth, which some had been willing to intimate to him, that so all innocent as he might be of his Friends misfortune, he might not have occasion to upbraid himself as long as he lived of having contributed thereunto. This Letter was not signed, and it was delivered by a man who knew not what he brought himself, having received it from an unknown Person. De Fiesque not knowing whether he ought to give Credit thereunto, was very much perplexed at the sight of it. He was afraid it might be a prank played him by some Enemy, who being jealous upon seeing him employed by the Minister, made use of this stratagem only to put a stop to the Course of his good fortune. Nevertheless as on the other side he would by no means that it should be imputed to him that he had betrayed the Count, he was no sooner arrived at Sedan, than after having notify'd to the Prince on what occasion he came, be imparted to him at the same time the intimation he received at his taking Horse.  
The Count did not seem much surprised, and all the answer he made Mr. de Fiesque, was, that the worst was to be expected from the Cardinal, Insomuch that too much Precaution could not be used against him; that nevertheless as the thing might come from some one that had an Interest to thwart his return, all things were to be well examined, before any body was to be condemned: That he did not doubt but that he had kept that Letter, that he begged of him to show it him, that he should perhaps know the hand if not that they then should know what they had to do upon it. The Count de Fiesque took out the Letter at the same time, which he kept very preciously, and the Count had no sooner looked upon it but that he knew whence it came. He had agreed with Mr. de Chavigny, that when he should have any thing to signify to him, he would make use of a borrowed hand; but to let him know that it came from him, he would thereunto add a certain stroke, which they had agreed on together. Now this stroke being upon this Letter: The advice is good, said he to the Count de Fiesque, and I am overjoyed to see that notwithstanding my Enemies Credit, I have still faithful Friends, In saying this he embraced the Count, and this Lord having received that Princes Caresses with a becoming respect: A service of such Moment, cried the Count de Soissons, does well merit that I should have no reserve for those that pay it me, and as I have the same Obligation to you as to the Author of the Letter, I shall not only tell you his name, but likewise what helps to render the Cardinal and me Enemies. Wee both Love the same Beauty, added he, and as it is usual not to bear any good will to an Enemy, it is not to be wondered if he Persecutes me and I hate him. You know I scaped narrowly of falling into his hands at Villemareuil: But you know that he is in Love with Madam d' Elboeuf, and that I have the same Sentiments for that Princess.  
It's impossible, cried out the Count de Fiesque at the same time. How! his Eminency, who so devoutly acts the Sage and the Philosopher, and who besides has some years over his Head, should he Mingle with his important occupations, a Passion that seems reserved to youth only, nay and to needless Youth: I mean for those that like you and I pass the three Quarters of the year without knowing how to Employ it. It's however true, The Count made answer, and that he might leave him no room to question it, he acquainted him with all he knew of the matter, giving him to understand that his thought was better grounded than upon a Bare suspicion. This was the subject of their whole discourse while the Count stayed at Sedan. In the mean while they both resolved to feed the Cardinal with hopes, and the Count de Fiesque being got back, he made him believe that upon certain Conditions this Prince was ready to return; but that he demanded to retire to some one of his Lands in Picard●, and the Duke of Elboeuf unto his Government, whither he pretended his wife should be sent to him. In saying this, he eyed the Cardinal, to fee if he would change colour, for after what he had now heard, he did expect he would not approve of these Conditions. And indeed, the Cardinal did thereupon burst out into an Exclamation, as if there had been a Design to have excluded him from the Ministry: How, answered he him all in a fury Did I encharge you to propose such a Treaty, and when you took leave of me, did I not tell you that it was to Court I was minded they should return? True, the Count replied, but if I gave ear to these Proposals, it was because that when I was with them I perceived that nothing could Sceure them against their Suspicions, more than a Retreat wherein they might think themselves under shelter against your Power. And as I know you will never harbour any ill Design against their Persons, as long as they shall not Embroil the State, I thought that you would rather choose to see them Both where they require, than in a Place where bad Council may pervert them. The Duke of bovillon stands not over-well affencted to your Eminency. Lamboy besides, who commands the Enemies forces in those Parts only wants to be in Action. Wherefore I should think it to be requisite to hinder those Princes from having Commerce with two such Dangerous Men, and which you'l do if you grant them what they require.  
The Count de Fiesque, after having thus taken delight in thwarting him, seeing that he became angry in good earnest, did not think fitting to push things farther. He  told him, that having advanced nothing that was subject to ratification, it was sufficient that it did not please him to let it drop so: that he had promised the Count de Soissons to return to Sedan, in case his Eminency approved of his Propositions, that not going thither would be suficient to let him know that they were ungrateful. You say right, the Cardinal made answer, but you do not see that I would have him return to Court, and as that is not the Right Course which you have taken, you must return thither to endeavour to set all things to Rights.  
Thus did the Count take a second Journey to Sedan, and several others after that to endeavour to bring the Prince back to Court. In the mean while the King and Cardinal were return'd to Paris, and his Eminency being far from permitting Madam d' Elboeuf to stay at Villemaruel, while he was at a distance from it, caused a Privy-Seal to be dispatched, by which she was enjoined to follow the Court. Repairing to Paris in conformity to this order she there led a most languishing Life, which her friends attributed to her Husbands Absence. But she could easily undeceive them, if she had been minded, and she daily perceived that the Count de Soissons shared as deep in her sadness as the Duke d'Elboeuf. She represented him to her self as a Prince not only of an accomplish merit, but likewise of a most extraordinary Tenderness. But what still imprinted him deeper in her heart, was the Persecution he was exposed to for the Love of her, and which he nevertheless preferred before all things. This is what he had assured her of ever,& as often as he found the Occasion to discourse her, and the remembrance of which he would fain have renewed to her by his Letters, principally since the favour he had received from her. But this Princess reproaching her self continually for the favour she had granted him, not being willing he should have an ill opinion of her Virtues, had not only refused all the Letters he had sent her, but she farther writ to him the following one.  
Madam d' Elboeuf's Letter to the Count de Soissons.  
Nothing hinders me from telling you that I wish your Esteem before that of all other People, were I not afraid that you should Interpret it too much to your advantage After what I have done for you, your vantity would be excusable, and you may have so ill an Opinion of me, as to think, me capable of all. However suspend your judgement, till you know me thoroughly. In giving you my Picture, I thought much less making you a Present, then a Restitution. Perhaps I may be mistaken, I own that I did it without much reflection. But let it be as it will, I assure you the uncertainty I am under of having done well or ill, makes me so uneasy, that I have no r●pose Day nor Night. If you have any value for me, pitty the State I have brought myself to. sand me back what I gave you, and thereby shall I Judge whether you really Love me.  
The Bearer of this Letter, having let the Count know that he should be glad to speak with him in private, and from whom he came, this Prince was so seized with joy, that all I can say to express it would be nothing in Comparison. He at first imagined, as many would have imagined as well as he, after the favour the duchess had conferred on him, that it was some new one that she had prepared for him. But what a strange reverse for him, when he had rea● what I have repeated? He resolved a thousand variou● thoughts in his mind at the sam● time, and that he dwelled on mos● was that the Cardinal had at th● long run triumphed o'er her Cr●elty, or by his Perseverance o● his Presents. After these sad R●flexions, he was at a Loss, what to say to the Man who demanded an Answer, and after several Conflicts he writ at follows.  
The Count de Soissons Letter to Madam d' Elboeuf.  
If you had only asked my Life, I should have sent it you, as soon as I had known your Will: But as what you require of me, is infinitely dearer to me, do not think it strange that I am longer in resolving upon it. Nevertheless I must tell you that I am determined to satisfy you, let it cost me what it will; It is an effort which you could only expect from such an affection as mine. I say no more to you Madam, and indeed what can I say that can in the least Express my Affections: Great it is certainly, not to say it is Extreme, God grant I may quickly sink under it But after all this shall not hinder me from gratifying you at a time you least expect it.  
Having dispatched the Man back, he was contriving how he might go to Paris, notwithstanding the danger, and especially how he might deceive Mrs d' Elboeuf, and de bovillon, who would not know what to think if they saw him distance himself from the Town. And after having duly considered on it he found no better means then to act the Inamorato of a certain Citt, who had some Beauty, and who spent part of the year at a Country-house she had about half a League from S●dan. He went to see her there several times, that so it might not be looked on as strange, when he should be some days without appearing, and having thereby prepared Peoples minds, he one fine night took Post; but so well disguised, that tho' he had met a thousand of his acquaintance upon the way, not one would have known him. He arrived by night at Paris, for fear of Accident, and found in a certain Inn where he alighted, a man whom he had dispatched away before, and in whom he confided; this Person had bought up all that he found rare at Paris in matter of knick-knacks, with a little Male to put 'em in. He had also provided a svit of clothes to disguise him,& this Prince having put 'em on, and his Load upon his Back, he resolved to go attend upon Madam d'Elboeuf's levy.  
This Princess was extremely curious of those sort of things, and not once only had he seen her visit all Paris to indulge that humour. Thus not doubting but that he should be welcome, he went to Elboeuf-Hall, and had her informed of what he brought. This Princess commanded his admittance, and without minding his Person,& the less for that she was at her Toilette, she bid him go into a Closet, where she would all alone view his Toys, for fear that if she took any one along with her, they should go tell what she had bought, before she had had the pleasure of speaking of it her self. And forasmuch as that Curiosity did not allow her to defer any longer, she got up just in the Condition she was in, and went to this new Merchant. As he was disguised, no less than Divination could have suspected who he was. Besides be Counterfeited his voice so well, that the Princess did not imagine she had any reason to make the least reflection upon his Person. By this means all her eyes were wholly taken up with contemplating his merchandise, among which she found a thousand things with which she was Enchanted. What most pleased her, were the Pictures of some Princesses of Europe, whose Beauty was such, that after having considered them, she  told the Merchant, that it was not possible they should be so handsome as the Painter made them. Pardon me, Madam, the pretended Merchant made answer, I have seen the most part of them, and if there be anything to be said between the Originals and the Copies, it is that the Painter with all his Art his not been able to attain to make 'em as perfect as they really are. He disguised his voice so well in saying this, that the Princess did not in any wise distrust who he was.  
However in case she had in the least observed his Eyes, and the divers Motions of his Countenance, it had been impossible but that she must have perceived that he was quiter another Person than what he was minded to appear. He was inflamed to such a Degree, not only at the parsonage he was obliged to act, but also thro' his Passion, that his looks, as I may say, pierced to the very bottom of her heart. And indeed, how could he, who was Passionately in Love, behold her in the manner she was, without dying of Love, since any other, how indifferently soever he might have been would have become sensible in seeing her. She had only one Petticoat on, and a Holland waistcoat, covered with Lace, thro' which one saw things capable of inflaming the most frigid, with much more reason, him who was passionately in Love. Besides her neck that was of an Extraordinary whiteness, appeared so then a thousand times more, by reason of the blackness of her Hair, that hung down upon her shoulders. Her Complexion received the same advan●age from this undress, and they were as so many Charms, that the more fascinated a Lover.  
Thus the Count being no longer able to resist them, meant to cut short without dallying any longer; and finding he had a fair occasion for so doing: All these Pictures, Madam, he renewed, which you so much admire, are fine indeed, and you are not the first that thought at the first sight of them, that the Painter had thereunto added something of his own. However to show you that he is faithfully, I'll show you some that I have of this Court, by the viewing of which you will judge that his whole aim has been to imitate Nature. In saying this he took out those of the Queen, of the Princess of Conde, and of some Ladies of the Court, who might pass for handsome; but which the duchess however found nothing in Comparison of those she had seen: Thus she fell to viewing 'em again, and the Count seeing how wedded she was to them: Cease Madam, he interposed, considering so attentively things that so little deserve the pains, and since your judgement is so good, reserve your admiration for all that is most beautiful in Nature. I have kept you the most excellent for the last, and without being obliged to part with it by a Power whom I am constrained to obey in spite of me, all the Riches in the world are not of the worth I esteem it.  
If the duchess had had the least Distrust of what passed, what he now said had been more than needful a thousand times to make her apprehended the rest: But as this was what she least dreamed of: Let's see, said she to him, that Toy you prise so hi●hly, and after what I have seen it must be something very fine to deface all the rest. After these words she reached forth her hand to the Pretended Merchant to receive the Picture he held in his, and having it done up in a Box, the largeness of the Diamonds that were upon it amazed her, yet without imagining what it could be. But she had no sooner opened that Box, but that her Amazement was incomparably greater, as soon as she found her own Picture. She cast her eyes at the same time upon him that had given it her, and tho' she should still have remained in ignorance as to his Person, she could not now have remained any longer in the dark. For the Count judging that a longer Disguise would be in no wise for his turn, threw himself at her feet, and embracing her knees: Yes, Madam, he said to her, There's a Picture I value above all the Riches in the World, nay more than my own Life. Yet would you deprive me of it, tho' you very well know, that the parting with it will occasion my Death. But no matter, I was resolved at any rate to content you, being sure that tho' I am so unhappy as not to draw your Compassion while I live, it will be impossible for you to refuse it me after my Death.  
He said this with a certain Accent that was still more affecting than his words, and the duchess being touched to the very heart, had only the power to answer him: How, Prince, is it then you, and do not my eyes deceive me? In saying this she went to fit her self down in a Chair that was near the Window, and the Count having followed her: Yes Madam, 'tis me, to her he said, who am come to show you by a Blind Obedience, how submissive I shall ever be to your will. What Command could you have laid upon me more ungrateful than that of sending your Picture back? Yet, what greater Obedience can you desire, than the bringing of it myself? But Madam, he added, do not push your Cruelty further; Let it be sufficient that you have experienced what I was capable of doing f●r your sake; a greater Sacrifice cannot but be prejudicial to you as well as to me. I should lose my Life, and for your part, you would lose a Prince, whose Conservation must be of importance to you, if it be true that you in the least Esteem those that Esteem you above all the World together.  
The duchess perceiving that this Conversation instilled strange tendernesses in o●her heart, and apprehending it might make her commit some Weakness unbecoming a Princess, turned her Eyes from off him, and seeking to speak of other matters: Ho● does my Husband? to him she said, Is he not much concerned, much troubled at my absence? Ah! Madam, the Count retorted at these words, is this a Discourse for the present time? Does he not writ t'ye when he pleases? And is it not his business to give you an account of all you ask me? Why am I allowed to do the same, and would you after that think it necessary to inform you of the Sentiments I should have in your absence? Why not, the duchess made him answer, if you were my Husband? Do not you know that People ever doubt of their happiness, and whatever assurance they may have, they are glad to have still new proofs of it? Ah! Madam, the Count repartee'd, Why, am not I in his Place? I should certainly spare you the trouble of inquiring that of any other than myself? I would tell it you that you should be weary of it at the long run; but I perceive the happiness of others makes me forget my own Unhappiness, far from possessing the Original, you have the Cruelty as not to leave me so much as the Copy. Is it possible you should continue in this Injustice; Nay, and though you should not suffer yourself to be wrought upon by my Love, would you be insensible to my Obedience.  
While they were upon this Subject, word was brought to Madam d'Elboeuf that the Cardinal came to see her. This Visit at so indecent an hour for the visiting of Ladies, did so surprise her that she imagined he had got some secret notice of the Counts coming. She had not sufficient Power over her mind as to hid her fears, and she that had the hard heart to take her Picture from him again, could not forbear saying something to him then that was most obliging. The Count, who was less susceptible of Apprehension, bid her take heart, and go meet the Cardinal for fear he should come into the Closet. But he, winged with Love, being mounted into the Chamber, without any bodies introducing him, as he had been  told that she was in her Closet, he went thither also without asking any bodies leave. He wanted little of catching the Count upon his knees, and he was but just got up upon the noise he had heard, when he came near the door. As his shop was displayed upon a Table, the Cardinal, all distrustful as he naturally was, did not harbour any suspicion, and after having cast his Eyes upon the Pictures, I mentioned before, he asked the duchess whose that was she held in her hands. It was her own which she had not had the fo●ecast to hid, so amazed was she at his coming; and the ●ardinal ha●●ng cast 〈◇〉 Eyes up●n it: Ah! Madam, sa●d he to her, here's one that out vies all the Rest, however beautiful they may be, and if you had taken it to confront 'em together, it was not necessary you should give yourself that Trouble, since you must needs know that there is nothing in any wise to be compared to your Beauty.  
I leave you to think how much this discourse was displeasing to the pretended Merchant, who tho' he tacitly jumped in Opinion, that it contained nothing but the truth, yet did not he think it looked well in any bodys Mouth but his own. Nevertheless it was not so disagreeable to the Princess. In her present surprise she was very much perplexed how to answer the Cardinal; but what he had newly started opening her the way: I really took it, said she to him, for what you say, but I have found it so little to my advantage that quiter out of Countenance, I am going to lock it up again. At these words she put it in her Pocket, which equally vexed the Count and the Cardinal; the later pretending to enjoy the sight of it longer,& the former hoping for something more real. The Cardinal who was at Liberty to speak,  told her, that as she was a Party in the Cause, her judgement of it was to be waved: That she ought much rather to refer it to him. Whereupon he asked of her again the sight of her Picture, to confront it with the Others: That it was not however requisite for the giving it the advantage, having before his eyes the original, which was a sure warrant that nothing was comparable to it; unless they went about to judge not only of the features, but also of the painting; that it was only on this account, that he asked her her representation, not to make a Comparison of her Beauty, but to decide of the Painters ability.  
The Cardinal, who had wit as well for entertainment of Gallantry as for matters of state said a thousand pretty things more upon this Subject. In the mean while he was so inflamed by beholding the Beauties which the Princess exposed to view, that being eager to tell her a great many more soft things, he only wanted to dispatch the shame Merchant out of the Way. For this purpose he asked what pleased her of his shop, and she extoling all in the Lump, that she might not be obliged to dismiss the Count so soon, the Cardinal being desirous to cut short, asked the pretended Merchant what he would have for the whole. The Sum the Count said, was immediately agreed to by the Cardinal, and he bid him seeing after this he did not as yet go his ways, that he needed only come to his house at two of the Clock, and he should have his money paid him. The Count had nothing to say, and being hearty vexed that he was thus obliged to give ground, he went and planted himself at a gate that was just opposite to Elboeuf Hall  
The Cardinals visit was very long; but as it is with reason that People commonly say the time is Tedious to him that dances attendance, it is easy to believe me when I shall say that it seemed much longer to the Count then it in reality was. His Eminency who was ever in Love with the Princess, was glad of meeting with a Pretence of seeing her, and was that time come to tell her anew that her Husband should return when she pleased; but that she must intimate to him that he must absolutely divorce himself from the Count's Interests, who with just reason was become suspected by the King, not only by the retreat he had chosen out of the Kingdom, but likewise by the Practices he kept on foot with the Enemies of the State. Madam d' Elboeuf could not endure he should thus speak ill of a Prince that had too much honour to be wanting to his Duty& without taking notice that she was going to give him matter of making her reproaches. Pardon me, my Lord, said she to him, if I interrupt you; I know the Count to be uncapable of what you say; And his greatest Misfortune is the Aversion you bear him, nay and if you would but own the truth to me, you hate him because he would not mary Madam de Comballet. But tell me, would you have done it, had you been in his Place? And all Prejudice aside, is it a reason to persecute him? No, Madam, I should not have done it, the Cardinal made answer, and I'll tell you why. He loved you at that time, and it was impossible for him to Love another. But now he Loves a Citizen's Wife of Sedan, and no longer Loves you; now that he abandons the most Lovely Princess in the World, for a Woman so much inferior to you in all kinds; I very much wonder you still take his Part.  
The Cardinal held this Discourse upon a secret notice he had received, that the Count was gone from Sedan to visit the Person he mentioned. This was a Fair occasion for the taking him up, supposing from the moment he ceased being in Love with Madam d' Elboeuf, the Cardinal had been so far from thinking of securing him; that he bent his thoughts only upon carrying this news. But he could not have worse timed his business, the Count's arrival justified his Innocence; and indeed Madam d' Elboeuf being fully persuaded of it, made him no answer, save that it was indifferent to her who the Count loved; that he was very much mistaken if he fancied that she was in any wise concerned in it; that she had  told him the same thing several times, and that she not only wondered at his having forgotten it, but likewise that he dared to express suspicions to her, which only belonged to a Person that had some Power over her. As she said all this to him without any concern, the Cardinal could not say all to her he would have done had he seen her in another temper; however having found the means of turning the Discourse upon what regarded himself he would needs discourse her of his Passion; But his Reception was such that he went away terribly vexed.  
The Count, who was still in Ambuscade in the same Place, having observed him as he took Coach, perceived he was not satisfied; and as he partly guessed at the subject of his Discontent, the jealousy he h●d entertained upon so long a Visit, vanished immediately: But another disquiet succeeded to this; The Cardinals coming had interrupted the Conversation he had with the duchess, and he knew not how to renew it. At length as he would as soon have choose to die as not to be truly informed how he stood in her heart, he resolved upon going again into the house, thinking he might with safety do it, no body knowing that the Cardinal had bought all his merchandise.  
The duchess was no sooner informed of his return, but that she return'd into her Closet with him, where without his entreating her to tell him the Occasion of the Cardinal's Visit, she gave him an Account of it word for word. He interrupted her when she came to speak of the Citizen's Wife of Sedan, and he owned to her that he had seen one, that so he might eclipse himself, as he had done, under Colour of some Intrigue with her. The duchess being not minded to show the inclination she had for him, asked him on what account he said that, and that it had been good if he were to justify himself; but that for her part, she did not inquire after what he did. These words made him almost mad, and after having complained of the little acknowledgement, she had for him, he set on foot again the Discourse of the Picture, asking her if she would have the Cruelty to keep it. He said a thousand soft things to her upon this occasion, but which the Princess did not yield to, so that seeing he lost his time, he would have taken leave of her. The duchess seeing him in Despair at her refu●al, was very much perplexed how ●o reconcile her Virtue with her Love, and seeking a Medium to all this, she bid him stay a moment longer, during which, making semblance of musing on something else, she took her Picture out of her Pocket, and fell a confronting it again with the others. The Count knew not what this meant, and said nothing more to her, either thro' Affliction at her denial, or for that he found himself obliged to quit her. But this Princess being willing he should go away with more hopes; Prince, said she to him, I mean to make you a Present in lieu of that you ask of me, 'tis a ston that is said to have a mighty virtue for the stoping of Blood. It must needs be precious to you who are so often engaged in the midst of Battels, and who may hourly have occasion for it. Upon these words she went into her Chamber, as it were to fetch it, and purposely leaving her Picture among the others, this was a secret him to him, that there are certain things which the Ladies will not give; but which they'd be sorry should we not take.  
The Count, who had continually his eyes upon this Picture, seized on it at the same time, and putting it very preciously into his Pocket, he resolved not to be so honest as to restore it. In the mean while the duchess return'd, holding in her hand the ston she had mentioned, and casting her eyes, without making semblance of any thing, where she had left the Picture, she was overjoyed to see that he had had the wit to improve the Occasion. For in short, she had been afraid that the force of Love might make him do a thing which Novice-Lovers impute to a great respect, while their Mistresses impute it to a great Blockishness. The Count after having seized on what he desired, most willingly received what she was content to give him, which otherwise he should not have much valued,& being afraid farther Discourse might open the way to some pique, he went away, after having assured her of a Love that was proof against absence, nay and against her Cruelty. The Lady not daring to discover to him what passed secretly in her heart, contented her self with wishing him a good Journey, but when he was gone, she found her self over whelmed with a profound sadness. The Cardinal's Confident having observed it in dressing her, suspected there was something in the wind, and the Toy Merchant's second Visit, with the private Conversation the duchess had had with him, making her Conjecture that he was peradventure some Messenger from the Count de Soissons, she was no sooner over the Service she was obliged to pay at her Lady's Toilet, but that she went to the Cardinal: She declared her suspicions to him, and that Minister understanding how that pretended Merchant return'd again to see Madam d' Elboeuf, he sent for the Count de Fiesque, and asked him if he would be faithful to him in a Command he had to lay upon him. The Count after having made him answer that his Eminency wronged him in questioning it: go then this very moment and take Post, the Cardinal renewed, and endeavour to get before a courier the Count de Soissons has here. If he be departed when you take Horse, overtake him before he reaches Rheims; if you go first stay there till he arrives; for in short, he can take no other Road, but above all remember that your fortune is at stake in acquitting yourself well of what I require.  
The Count did not fail to assure him that he would do his Best. Nevertheless he was at a very great loss how to come off with Honour from this affair, which put him under a Necessity either of losing that Ministers favour, or that of the Count de Soissons, who was his friend. To reconcile so difficult a thing, he repaired immediately to an Officer of his Acquaintance, and having opened his heart to him, he begged of him to serve him in that Occasion. The Officer  told him he needed only to Command. Thus the Count having acquainted him with what was to be done, the Count took Post, and inquired on the way if there was no courier before. He was answered in the Negative, which made him go more at his Ease, and he arrived at Rheims in the Dusk of the Evening, an hour after the Officer, whom he had caused to put on such another svit of clothes as the Merchant was described to him to wear, arrived, and was no sooner alighted, but that he was seized. He asked what they meant to do with him, and the Count having  told him that he must return to Paris, he protested that he should remain responsible for his Delay. But all he said was mere Grimmace, the Count made no semblance of hearing him, and had him kept in sight, under a safe Guard till the next Morning. These Precautions made the Guards believe that he was a prisoner of Importance, and this was what the Count studied to insinuate into them, that so, when they were arrived at Paris, they might give the Cardinal an account of his Zeal in Executing his Orders. In the mean while, instead of going to Rest he went out of the Inn, and staying upon the Avenues by which the Post was to pass, he heard a Courier coming, that had much outstripped his Postillon. He bid him stop when he came near him, and that he had something of Consequence to say to him. Now it was just the Count de Soissons, and fancying he knew the Count de Fiesques voice again, he made a halt, standing however upon his guard. De Fiesque notwithstanding it's being dark could perceive that he had clothes on of the colour expressed to him, and not doubting but this was the Person he had order to seize: Draw near, he said to him, I have something of Consequence to say to you. This repetition confirming the Count of it's being the Party he imagined: Is it you Count de Fiesque, he said to him, and by what Adventure do I fi●d you here? These words let the Count de Fiesque know that it was not only the Courier he sought, but also the Count de Soissons. Thus being no longer able to retain his joy? Yes Sir, 'tis I, he said to him, without flattering myself I may assure you that I have newly done you a Signal piece of Service. Upon these words they drew near each Other, and after a more particular Examination they embraced with no less fondness, then if they had not seen one another in a thousand Years. Those Embraces being over, the Count de Fiesque acquainted him with the Order he had received from the Cardinal, and how he had put another man in his room, that so he might not lose his Credit with him. However that he must advice him not to change Horses at Rheims, that they might not mind his Passage, and that the Cardinal should not have matter to reproach him that he should have secured him as well as the Other.  
The Count having found he had reason, took leave of him, after having expressed a mighty sense for the service he had done him. De Fiesque return'd to the Inn, and the Count de Soissons stayed for the coming up of his Post-boy, whom he gave some money that he might not be obstinate for staying in that Town. In the mean while de Fiesque having stayed the time, or much thereabouts that the Counts passing must take up, departed from Rheims with the Guard that conducted the prisoner, and being come to Paris, he put him into the bastille according to the order he had from the Cardinal. This Minister understanding the Success of his journey, went immediately from his palace, to go himself and Examine the Prisoner; and as he did not doubt but that it was the Toy-Merchant, whom he had heard no talk of since, which however he must needs have done, had he been really a Merchant, since he was to receive of him the price of his Shop, he entred Elboeuf Hall, which was on his way. Madam d'Elboeuf who did not delight in his Visits, was surprised to see him, but she was much more so, at his discourse to her. I own to you, Madam, said he to her, as soon as he had taken a Seat, that you and your Toy Merchant have deceived me, I like a silly fool was shammed upon, but this is my Comfort that my silliness is of no long Continuance: But that disguised Merchant shall rue the Cheat, and I am come on purpose to acquaint you, that I have lodged him in the bastille, where I shall treat him as he deserves.  
Madam d'Elboeuf changed Colour at this Compliment; Nevertheless making reflection at the same time, that a Woman ought never to own a thing of that Nature: Secure who you will, she made him answer, what's that to me, and I would feign know, how far you would have me concerned in't? How! Madam, cried the Cardinal, d'ye pretend to make me believe that you are not concerned in a thing, when I see you are a Principal Party in the Plot? You don't think me so simplo, sure, as to believe it, you may indeed, deceive a Husband, but not a Lover. I have already  told you the one has more piercing Eyes than the other, and since you will not sincerely own the Cheat, within a moment I shall tell it you from one end to the other. In saying this out went he, and so to the bastille, where he had the Prisoner brought before him. He being instructed in all he was to say, did not wait for the Cardinals speaking to him, and as soon as he saw him, he prevented him by Complaints, beseeching him to do him justice upon those that had taken him up. The Cardinal at first, imagined he made such a noise only to elude the accusation he had reason to apprehended; Nevertheless he began to be diffident when he had viewed him, that possibly they had been mistaken, principally when he had asked him who he was? what he did at Paris? and whither he was going, when that he had been caught running Post? This man answered him upon all, and the Cardinal remaining satisfied that this was none of the Person he sought for, withdrew very much out of Countenance, nay and highly incensed at the Count de Fiesque, whom he taxed with not having done his duty. He sent for him at the same time, and vented his anger upon him. De Fiesque endeavoured to insinuate to him, that he had done what he could, and excused himself upon the resemblance of clothes that had deceived him; but his Eminency not relishing his Excuses, looked sour, nay, and would not see him for some time.  
During these Transactions, the duchess was under mortal Apprehensions occasioned by several Reasons. The strongest proceeded from her Presumptions of the Counts being a Prisoner, and for that she was afraid the Cardinal might underhand, publish how he had discovered him. Wherefore she durst not stay at home, for fear some one should come to tell her this sad News: But in short, the Count de Fiesque guessing at her anxiety, thought it would be much better to let her know that he was Privy to the Count de Soissons Loving her, than to leave her any longer in pain. For this purpose, he went in quest of her every where, where he imagined he might find her; and having found her walking in the Evening in Luxembourg Garden; Madam, said he to her, d'ye know that I am fallen out with the Cardinal, and that a friend of yours is the Cause of it? The duchess not knowing what he aimed at, blushed at this Discourse, and Mr. de Fiesque seeing her Perplexity, was willing to spare her the pains of an answer. He pretended, added he, to cause a man to be secured, whom he imagined came to see you from the Count de Soissons, and having culled me out for this feat, the Engagement I have with that Prince did not permit me to Obey him. I did indeed, encharge myself with the Commission; but with design to do the Count-Service. I caused another man to act the part of him whom I was to secure; and after having secured him, which was no difficult matter, since he went to deliver himself up where I had bid him, I posted myself upon the High-way, to give the other notice that he should out of hand make his Escape, and that he should tell the Count de Soissons the Service I had done him. But I was much surprised, when, instead of the Party I expected, I found it to be him himself, and as it has been buzzed about that he was taken up, and that it is impossible but that it must render you uneasy, I am very glad I can disperse your Disquiets.  
The duchess not knowing whether she might confided in him, gazing upon him before she would utter her mind, to endeavour to discover whether he was sincere or not, did at length fancy she perceived something that was for her turn. However meaning to shrift him further: Are ye in good Earnest, said she to him, and can ye be so Unmodish as to be sincere? The Count very seriously affirmed the thing to her, and the duchess no longer questioning it, owned to him how that the Count de Soissons came to see her, but made great asseverations of her not having any esteem for him, I do not require, de Fiesque repartee'd, to be your Confident in that matter; nor shall I ever require to be further your Confident than you of your own motion shall please to make me. I am nevertheless the Counts and your Servant, and this is what I am proud to assure you of: But let him say what he would, the duchess would never own any thing to him; and he did not think it, seeming by further arguing as it were, to wreck her secret out of her.  
In the mean while, the Cardinal, who had much ado to digest what had befallen him, had still new matter of disquiet, by an Intimation given him by the Count de St. Chaumont. This Lord in his return from Germany, met the Count de Soissons in his return to Sedan, and having known him again, notwithstanding that Disguise, he asked him whence that Change proceeded, and whether it lay in his way to do him Service. But as he was of the like Temper with all the Great Lords of the Kingdom, who with Emulation striven to make their Court to the Cardinal, he was no sooner at Paris, but that he informed him of his rencontre. That Minister was much surprised, when he perceived by the Description of the Person, that it was the Count himself he had seen at the Dutchesses. He was mortally angry at himself for not having known him, and recalling his features into his memory, he could only attribute his mistake, to the little care he had taken to view him. In the mean while, tho' extreme was his vexation, he would not take any notice, even forbidding the Count to speak to any Body of what he had  told him. For he pretended to catch the Count in the same Snare, wherefore that he might the sooner lure him to undertake to see Madam d' Elboeuf he sent a Privy-Seal to that Lady, for her to retire to Villemareuil, Any other would have taken such an Order for a Disgrace, and it's well known that most Ladies look upon the Necessity of withdrawing from Court, as the greatest misfortune that can befall them; but she having her reasons to Love Solitariness, departed from Paris with the greatest pleasure imaginable.  
This News was quickly carried to Sedan; but at the same time it arrived, Mr. de Fiesque gave notice to the Count de Soissons that this pretended Exile was only a Snare, cunningly laid to surprise him: that the safest for him was to stay where he was, and that in case he stood in need of a Confident he offered him his service. The Count de Soissons would have been glad, the Case had stood so with him, for it's a sign a man's in no ill terms with his Mistress. However as he was unable to bring matters to that pass, he thanked him for his good will, and according to his advice he resolved to be upon his Guard. In the mean while he continued his Visits to his Mistress of Sedan, and that woman taking for marks of Love, what she ought at most to have only attributed to his Civility, she became so charmed with that Prince, that her Passion shew'd itself in all her Actions. The Count observed it several times, and as it would ill become a Man to be cruel, he so caressed her, as made that poor woman believe that she was really beloved by him. Nay and there came something more of it than I have yet said; for she proved with Child, which however was not presently discovered, for the Count being afraid of it's coming to the Dutchess's ears, recommended to her above all things carefully to conceal it.  
While these things occurred at Sedan, the duchess having no news of the Count, was extremely amazed at it in her solitude. What she had done did in her Opinion merit a greater remembrance; for in short she could not imagine, but that he had sense enough as to think that she had purposely forgot her Picture, that he might have the opportunity of taking it. Now her niceness upon the point could not reconcile itself with the Tranquillity he was in after such a favour, often saying in her self that she was much mistaken if he was not unworthy of it. As these thoughts possessed her mind,& which she could not communicate to any body, she sought out the most solitary places, there to indulge her pensive humour. Most commonly was it in the Hazel Arbour, I have before mentioned, and being there, she let her sorrow so prevail upon her, that she gushed out into abundance of tears. The Court was then return'd to Monceaux, the Cardinal having thought expedient to be near at hand to her abode, that he might the better surprise the Count de Soissons in case he came to see her. In the mean while, being glad also to see her himself, he pretended to go a hunting, and straying on purpose from his People, he came to Villemareuil incognito, where he knew the duchess to be in the Arbour. He entreated her Confident, being the same who had  told him where her Lady was, that she would show him the way to the Arbour, and seeing it at a distance, he bid the Confident go back, and he stolen up to it as softly as was possible.  
Before he entred the Arbour, he must needs peep thro' the leaves to see what the duchess was doing; but he saw her not there, and, indeed, she was already gone out. He thought fitting to attend her coming there a moment, and that perhaps she was not as yet come; Thus musing he stayed at least a quarter of an hour, during which the duchess was walking in a shady Alley, a hundred Paces distant. Just in the time she was there, it happened that the Count de Soissons, after having secretly left Sedan, was come into this Grove, where after having taken some turns, he directed his steps into this Alley. By chance the duchess had her back turned that way whence he came; Thus not having perceived him, she continued to go on, and being weary of walking in that Alley, she went on towards the Arbour. The Count, who upon the first blushy knew her, followed her thither step by step, nay and so close, that it is a wonder that she did not hear him walking after her. In the mean while, she was strangely startled at finding the Cardinal there, and instantly going out again, her surprise was still much greater, when she saw the Count de Soissons before her. As for his part, he was not so much at first, and was just opening his mouth to tell her that he had not been able to continue absent any longer, when the Cardinal's presence, who rushed out to run after the duchess, locked up his tongue as to all matters of that nature. Now the Cardinal was no less amazed than they, and the first thought that came into his mind was, that the Count and the duchess having made an Assignation, he followed her into the Arbour, when his presence had interrupted their Designs. As for the Count he on his part imagined that the duchess knew of the Cardinal's coming, and that repairing to him, she would by no means stay in the Arbour, for fear of being found out there by some or other. Thus you see two men jealous to the utmost extremity, and as they both hated one another, hard words presently passed between them.  
Madam d' Elboeuf above all things dreading the being made a subject of the public talk, begged of 'em to kerb their Tempers for her sake, and as she did not manifest more distinction for the one than for the other: this so piqu'd the Count de Soissons, that he forbore saying any thing disobliging to the Cardinal, and made his Resentment fall upon her. You have reason, Madam, he said to her, to be solicitous for a Man with whom I find you at an Assignation. Not that you fear the prejudice this may do you, for if it were so, your Conduct would be different, but you apprehended that being a Priest and a Cardinal as he is, his Reputation must be ruined in the World, if what is here transacted came to be divulged?  
These Reproaches went deep into the Dutchess's heart, and were the more sensibly afflicting, for that it was then no season for her to make a due Justification. Thus having only given a General answer, the Count did so imprint it in his head, that what he had newly said was true, that after having added some other reproaches to those, he went away with a most desperate sorrow. Then was the duchess at a terrible loss, her heart would by no means have had him gone away with such thoughts, but on the other side, it was contrary to all Decency to retain him in the presence of a Man whom it became her to distrust more than any Person living, and this Consideration being the strongest, she let him go without saying a word to him. If the Cardinal had not had 〈◇〉 thousand things in his head, seeing this he would have triumphed tho' he had not any share in the Sacrifice, but besides his believing that he had not any more reason than the Count to be satisfied, fear began to seize him; It came into his Head that the Count would lie in wait to Assassinate him, and this apprehension kept him with the duchess, tho' he designed at first to have gone away presently, with intent to have had him taken into Custody. By this means the Count found no obstacle in his return to Sedan, where he was no sooner arrived, but that all People were surprised at the melancholy he laboured under. As they presumed he then came from his Sedan Mistresses Country-house; those who had a Right to speak to him familiarly, asked him whether she was Cruel to him; but how could ●●ey imagine that, since according as she grew big, it was impossible for her, notwithstanding all the Care she took, so to conceal it, as to hinder it from being the public discourse. And indeed it was not only at Sedan where she began to pass for the Counts Mistress, but also throughout the whole Kingdom, where the report of her Condition was quickly spread abroad.  
The duchess would not believe it at first, imagining it to be a Calumny invented by the Cardinal; besides the journeys he had undertaken to Paris and Villemareuil with so much danger for him, was a strong Proof, that she it was he loved. But at the long run, after having a thousand times taken his part in her heart, she was forced to acquiesce upon a Letter she received from her Husband, by which he let her know the Truth. Her spite made her fancy at first, that far from being concerned at this news it ought to be grateful to her, since it helped from her mind to banish a thousand thoughts that were contrary to her repose, nay and to her Honour. But she did not long persist in these sentiments, and that Princes infidelity affencted her to such a Degree, that after having revolved a thousand things in her head, she dwelled upon revenge, which flattered her more then all the rest. Now imagining that the most just of all the measures she could use, was to take her Husband off from his Interests, she went to the Cardinal, to whom she offered to do what he before had proposed, the Cardinal surprised at so unexpected a compliance, endeavoured to dive into the reason,& with his Wit was not long without discovering it. Seeing that nothing but spite caused her to make this step, he would not all at once grant her some advantages she demanded of him in favour of her Husbands return, and only endeavoured to put this matter into negotiation, so to create a jealousy in the Count, to whom he expected some friend or other would not fail to signify these frequent Interviews. And indeed, the Count de Fiesque, seeing so many goings and comings of Madam d' Elboeuf, accordingly writ him word of it.  
The Count was easily persuaded of the Truth of what he writ to him, after what he himself had seen, and this news still augmenting his melancholy, he became so changed that his friends could hardly know him. The only solace he found was the writing a Letter of Complaint to the duchess, who on her part having reason to be jealous made him so bitter an answer, that far from minding to excuse her self as to the Love he attributed to her for the Cardinal, she left him to believe all he pleased. In the mean while the Count de Fiesque was not the only Person that took notice of the frequent visits the duchess made the Cardinal; One of her Husbands friends was for his sake in like manner allarum'd at it, and tho' we ought never to give such intimations, he nevertheless advertised the Duke of it, whom he proffered to steal away his Wife, and bring her to him. The Duke who was cured of his jealousy, found it revive upon this notice, he took that friend at his word, and as the thing could not be done without a great deal of noise, he imparted the Design to the Count de Soissons. This was an accumulation of Grief for that Prince to whom such a secret was a fresh proof of his unhappyness; nevertheless as the Duke who was bitterly incensed against his Wife, had manifested at the same time some ill design upon her, as soon as ever he got her into his hands, a remaining spark of Affection made him believe, that he should highly oblige that Lady if he gave her notice of it.  
Madam d' Elboeuf, having had no desire save for the rendering him alone jealous, was very much surprised when she came to know that her design had operated as well upon her Husband as upon him, and as she knew the Duke to be of a Turbulent Spirit, and capable of pushing things to the utmost Extremity in his first fury, she thought Convenient to avoid his first Motions. For this purpose she stirred not abroad otherwise than well attended, which the Dukes friend being mightily amazed at, he signified to him, that their design was discovered and that it was impossible to accomplish what he had promised him. The Duke knew not whom to tax with this; Nevertheless seeing he could not be revenged on his Wife, he resolved to be so on the Cardinal, and knowing that without the Count de Soissons he could do nothing of himself, he did in such manner animate him against his Eminency, that they agreed together to take up Arms to drive him from Court, Mr. de bovillon, who was his Eminency's declared enemy, promised not only to join with them, but likewise to cause several Potentates to declare in their behalf. The War being thus ready to break out, the Cardinal who could make use of the Royal Authority to reduce th●● did not much trouble his head about their Projects, and being more solicitous to know how he stood in the Dutchess's Opinion, than for any thing else, he went to see her on the pretence of concluding her Husbands Affair; but going about to speak to her of Love, he was so ill used by her, that he went away very much out of Countenance. He imagined, notwithstanding all that had happened, that the Count de Soissons was still in as good terms with her, as he had ever been, and that he was the Cause of his being so ill used. This Opinion, together with the Designs which that Prince was upon the point of proclaiming, did so exasperate him, that he resolved to have him rid out of the world, let it cost what it would. For this purpose he not only sent a considerable Army around Sedan, but also contrived to engage an Assassinate. Money, the usual source of the greatest Crimes, not failing him for the bringing about his Design, he found one of that princes Guard, who promised to do so horrible and so abominable an Act.  
In the mean while the Kings Army advancing under the Conduct of the marshal de Chatillon, and the Count de Soissons not being willing it should be said of him, that he had not dared to stir out of the Walls of Sedan, went out to meet him with some troops that he had raised at his own Cost. The two Armies met two Leagues thence, and engaging in a battle, the Count de Soissons being animated with Love, fought with so much Courage, that he put the Royal Army to the Rout. But when that this Prince imagined that nothing could any longer hinder him from giving the Law to his Enemy, the wretched Guard, watching an occasion to do his feat, followed him to the corner of a Wood, where seeing him all alone: Return, Sir, return, said he to him, the Enemies stand firm still at a Musket's Shot hence. The Count knew the Guards voice, whom he had always seen by him during the battle, and thinking that he spoken in good earnest, he turned his head about, and lift up the Viser of his Helmet, to view where the Enemies were. But this traitor fired his Pistol at him, and having hit him where the Count had exposed by lifting up his Viser, he rendered himself worthy of the Reward that had been promised him, by the greatest and most enormous of all Crimes.  
This News being brought to the duchess, it so overwhelmed her with grief, that she plainly perceived that the jealousy that had spirited her against him, had not extinguished her Love. Nevertheless having many measures to keep in the World she was forced to constrain her self. As to the Cardinal, she could never win so far upon her self, as to give him a good look; and tho' he studied to disguise that Death, which he endeavoured to have it believed that it happened after quiter another manner, she ever looked upon him as the Author of that Homicide. In fine, tho' some time after her Husband made his Peace at Court, his Presence could not afford her any joy. Where ever she went, she still bore in her heart so sensible a sorrow for the Death of that Prince, that after having languished some years, she died, to the great grief of her Husband, who all his Life long was Ignorant that it was the Count who had possessed her real Affections.  
The End.