Five or six people had seen, or rather had caught a glimpse, of the King; the others wished to inspect him thoroughly.
At that period, when it took a diligence six or seven days to go to Paris, to have seen the King was a thing to talk about. Each one had formed an imaginary portrait of him for him or herself.
Therefore the astonishment was intense when Louis the Sixteenth showed himself with swollen eyes, and proved to that multitude a thing which they did not before believe—namely, that a king may be fat, pale, bloated—with dull eyes, hanging lips, a bad peruke, and a gray suit of clothes.
The crowd believed that they were being deceived, and growled accordingly.
Afterwards, when they knew that it was the King, “Oh, heavens!” said they. “Poor man!”
Pity having once seized them, their hearts opened, and they began to shed tears.
“Long live the King!” cried the crowd.
If Louis XVI had profited by that moment—if he had prayed that concourse of people to help him and his children,—perhaps they would have passed him and the royal family over the barricaded bridge, and delivered them into the hands of the hussars.
He took no advantage of that pity and sorrow.
An example was given of the commiseration which the royal family inspired.