But let us allow him to continue his narrative of this singular interview:—
“While he was telling me this, I was reflecting that, were I to reply that I refused to abandon my suit, it would be but a useless impertinence, because he was all-powerful; and, having decided to yield with a good grace, I said:—
“ ‘Sire, I have always ardently desired a thing which has happened to me when I was least anticipating it, which was the opportunity of showing your Majesty, by some signal proof, the extreme and ardent devotion which I cherish for you, and how truly I love you. Assuredly, I could not have met with one more suitable than this—of abandoning without pain and without regret an alliance so illustrious, and a lady so perfect and so passionately beloved by me, since by this resignation which I am making I please in some way your Majesty. Yes, Sire, I renounce it for ever, and trust that this new love may bring you as much joy as the loss of it would occasion me distress, were it not that the consideration of your Majesty prevents me feeling it.’
“Then the King embraced me and wept, assuring me that he would make my fortune as if I were one of his natural children, and that he loved me dearly, of which I should be assured, and that he would recompense my honesty and my friendship. The arrival of the princes and nobles made me rise, and, when the King recalled me and told me again that he intended me to marry his cousin d’Aumale, I answered that he had the power to prevent my marriage, but, as for marrying elsewhere, ‘that is a thing which I will never do.’ And with that our conversation terminated.”
That day Bassompierre dined with the Duc d’Épernon, to whom he related what the King had said to him. D’Épernon was disposed to make light of the matter. “It is merely a caprice of the King,” said he, “which will pass as quickly as it came. Do not be alarmed about it; for when Monsieur le Prince understands what the King’s intentions are, he will not commit himself.” Bassompierre tried to persuade himself that such was the case, and, on the duke’s advice, said nothing to anyone else about the matter.
In the evening, as he and two or three other gentlemen were playing at dice with the King at a table placed beside his bed, the Duchesse d’Angoulême entered the room with her niece, whom she had brought, it appeared, in response to a message from his Majesty. The King immediately ceased playing and had a long and earnest conversation with the duchess on the further side of the bed. Then he called Mlle. de Montmorency and spoke to her also for a long time. It was evident that he informed her that Bassompierre had renounced his pretensions to her hand, and that he intended to bestow it upon the Prince de Condé, for when the conversation came to an end and the girl turned away, she glanced in her unfortunate suitor’s direction and shrugged her pretty shoulders.
“This simple action,” writes Bassompierre, “pierced me to the heart and affected me to such a degree that, feeling quite unequal to continuing the game, I simulated a bleeding of the nose and left the first cabinet and the second. On the stairs the valets de chambre brought me my cloak and hat. My money I had left to take care of itself, but Beringhen[69] gathered it up. At the bottom of the staircase I found M. d’Épernon’s coach, and, entering it, I told the coachman to drive me to my lodging. I met my valet de chambre and went up with him to my room, where I instructed him to say that I was not at my lodging; and I remained there two days, tormented like one possessed, without sleeping, eating, or drinking. People believed that I had gone into the country, as I was in the habit of playing such pranks. At length, my valet, fearing that I should die or lose my reason, acquainted M. de Praslin, who was much attached to me, of the state in which I was, and he came to see me, in order to divert my mind.”
M. de Praslin succeeded in persuading Bassompierre that there was still something to live for, and brought him that evening to the Louvre, where “everyone was at first astonished to see that in the space of two days he had become so thin, pale and changed as to be unrecognisable.”
A few days later, the Prince de Condé announced his intention of marrying Mlle. de Montmorency. The prince, who was by no means an amiable young man, had taken a dislike to Bassompierre, whose pretensions to the young heiress’s hand would, but for the intervention of the King, have most certainly been preferred to his own; and happening to meet his discomfited rival, said to him with obvious malice: “M. de Bassompierre, I beg you to come to my hôtel this afternoon and accompany me to Madame d’Angoulême’s, whither I propose going to pay my respects to Mlle. de Montmorency.”
“I made him a low bow,” says Bassompierre, “but I did not go there.”