“All is not over yet,” she said. “We shall see what your conduct will be at the execution of the noblemen, your friends, at which the Council has decided to make a great public display of severity.”
“I shall do,” said the prince, “whatever the king does.”
“The king, the queen-mother, and myself will be present at the execution, together with the whole court and the ambassadors—”
“A fete!” said the prince, sarcastically.
“Better than that,” said the young queen, “an act of faith, an act of the highest policy. ‘Tis a question of forcing the noblemen of France to submit themselves to the Crown, and compelling them to give up their tastes for plots and factions—”
“You will not break their belligerent tempers by the show of danger, madame; you will risk the Crown itself in the attempt,” replied the prince.
At the end of the dinner, which was gloomy enough, Queen Mary had the cruel boldness to turn the conversation openly upon the trial of the noblemen on the charge of being seized with arms in their hands, and to speak of the necessity of making a great public show of their execution.
“Madame,” said Francois II., “is it not enough for the king of France to know that so much brave blood is to flow? Must he make a triumph of it?”
“No, sire; but an example,” replied Catherine.
“It was the custom of your father and your grandfather to be present at the burning of heretics,” said Mary Stuart.