"Oh, I see that they are watchful," exclaimed Maria Theresa, "I see it. Do not deny it, you are one of those whose evil eyes see evil doings in every impulse of my dear defenceless child's heart. But have a care, sir cardinal, the friendless dauphiness will one day be Queen of France, and she will then have it in her power to bring to justice those who persecute her now!" [Footnote: "Memoires de Madame de Campan," vol. i., p. 47.]
"I hope that I shall never be accused of such fellowship," said De
Rohan, for the first time losing his proud self-possession.
"I, the Empress of Austria, accuse you to-day of it!" cried Maria Theresa, with threatening mien. "Oh, my lord, it does you little honor—you, a royal personage and a prince of the church, to exchange letters with a Du Barry, to whose shameless ears you defame the mother of your future queen!"
"When did I do this? When was I so lost to honor as to speak a disrespectful word of the Empress of Austria?"
"You deny it—do you? Let me tell you that your praise or your blame are all one to me; and if I have granted you this interview, it was to show you how little I am disturbed by your censorious language. I know something of the intriguing at Versailles. I have even heard of the private orgies of the 'Oeil de Boeuf,' where Louis entertains his favorites. And I will tell you what took place at the last one. The Countess du Barry was diverting the company with accounts of the hypocrisy of the Empress of Austria; and to prove it, she drew from her pocket-book a letter, saying: 'Hear what the Cardinal de Rohan says about her.' Now, cardinal, do you still deny that you correspond with her?"
"I do deny it," said the prince, firmly. "I deny that I ever have written her a word."
The empress took from her pocket a paper, and read as follows
"True, I have seen Maria Theresa weeping over the fate of Poland, but this sovereign, who is such an adept in the art of dissimulation, appears to have tears and sighs at her command. In one hand she holds her pocket-handkerchief, and in the other the sword with which she cuts off a third of that unhappy country." [Footnote: "Memoires de Weber concernant Marie Antoinette," vol. viii., p. 803.]
"Now, sir cardinal, upon your sacred honor, did you or did you not write these words?"
The prince turned pale, and grasped the arm of the chair on which he sat.