On the morrow, however, he proved less insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the young maid of honour; her modest dignity in a private salon offering, in all probability, little attraction to the licentious monarch who was accustomed to see every eye turned towards himself, and every art exerted to fascinate his notice; but on the day of the rehearsal, when the graceful and blushing nymph of Diana was presented to him in her classic garb, her quiver at her back and her spear in her hand, he at once acknowledged the potency of the spell by which others had been previously subjugated. The rehearsal took place in the great hall of the Louvre, where Henry was attended only by the Duc de Bellegarde, and Montespan,[395] the captain of his bodyguard.
The extraordinary loveliness of the young Princess, combined with her exquisite grace and dignified bearing, at once fascinated the King, who declared to the Duc de Bellegarde that he had never before beheld so faultless a face and form; to which assurance M. le Grand replied, says Bassompierre, "according to his usual manner of extolling everything that was novel, and particularly Mademoiselle de Montmorency, who was indeed worthy of all admiration; and thus infused into the mind of the King, always ready to yield to a new fancy, the passion which subsequently caused him to commit so many extravagances." [396]
For the moment, however, Henry was unable to pursue his unworthy purpose, being attacked the same evening by a violent fit of the gout, to which he had been occasionally subject for the last four years, and which declared itself on this occasion with so much acuteness that during fifteen days he was compelled to keep his bed. Meanwhile, the Duc de Bouillon was not idle. Considering himself aggrieved by the Connétable in not having been selected as the husband of his daughter, he complained loudly and bitterly of the slight, and even induced the Duc de Roquelaure to exert his influence with M. de Montmorency to withdraw his promise from Bassompierre, and to bestow the hand of the Princess upon himself. The Connétable, however, remained firm, declaring that he had already the honour to be the great-uncle of M. de Bouillon, a degree of kindred which quite satisfied his ambition; and that his daughter, being pledged to Bassompierre, could no longer be an object of pursuit with any prospect of success to any other noble, however great might be his rank; while, in pursuance of this resolution, the Duke caused preparations to be made for the celebration of the marriage in the chapel of his palace at Chantilly. Bassompierre was consequently at the summit of happiness; his ambition and his heart were alike satisfied, and he received the congratulations of those around him with an undisguised delight, which, in so proverbially gay and gallant a cavalier, could not fail to prove highly flattering to the object of his attachment.
Unfortunately, before the ceremony could be performed, M. de Montmorency was in his turn attacked by gout, and, greatly to the mortification of the expectant bridegroom, the marriage was necessarily deferred. Still, relying on the assurance of the Connétable that nothing should induce him to rescind his resolution, Bassompierre endeavoured to await with what patience he might the termination of the inopportune illness of the generous Prince; and in the interim he shared with M. le Grand and the Duc de Grammont the honour of passing the night in the royal chamber, where the three nobles alternately read or conversed with the King during his sleepless hours. Throughout the day the monarch received the visits of the Queen and the Princesses of the Blood, among whom the most welcome was the Duchesse d'Angoulême, who was on every occasion accompanied by her niece Mademoiselle de Montmorency, whom Henry did not fail to engross whenever the Duchess was engaged in conversation with the members of the Court circle. Still, however, the King was careful not to betray to the young lady herself the peculiar feeling with which she had inspired him, but treated her with a kindness which was almost paternal, alluding without any apparent reluctance to her betrothal to Bassompierre, and assuring her that she should be as dear to him as a daughter, and that during the tour of duty of her husband, as First Lord of the Bedchamber, she should have a suite of apartments appropriated to her use in the Louvre; but in a few days, when he had accustomed her to converse freely with him upon the subject, Henry put a leading question which must, after all these gracious promises, have tended to startle Mademoiselle de Montmorency, by demanding to know if she personally desired the marriage, as, should it be otherwise, she need only confess the truth with frankness, when he would break off the match, and procure for her an alliance more to her taste; adding that he was even willing to bestow her hand upon his own nephew the Prince de Condé. In reply the Princess modestly but firmly assured his Majesty that as her union with M. de Bassompierre was the wish of her father, she felt convinced that her destiny would be a happy one; and there can be no doubt that she said this more emphatically than she had intended, as, from that moment, Henry became convinced that she really loved her intended husband, and he resolved in consequence to prevent the marriage.
Unhappily for all parties, the monarch appeared to have forgotten that he had reached his fifty-sixth year, that he was rapidly becoming a martyr to the gout, and that he was no longer calculated to enter into a successful rivalry with his younger and more attractive nobility; a delusion which was unfortunately encouraged, according to Mézeray, by his confidential friends, the relatives of the lady, and even the members of the Queen's household, who, in the hope of at length triumphing over his former favourites, exerted themselves to increase his passion for the daughter of the Connétable;[397] a passion which they moreover doubtless imagined could not, from the high rank and peculiar position of Mademoiselle de Montmorency, exceed the limits of propriety. The intentions of Henry himself were, however, as was subsequently proved, of a far less innocuous tendency than those for which others so erroneously gave him credit. At eight o'clock on the following morning he sent for Bassompierre, and having caused the attendants to leave the room, he motioned him to kneel down upon the cushion beside his bed, when he assured him that he had been thinking seriously of the propriety of his taking a wife.
"Ah! Sire," said the delighted courtier, perfectly unsuspicious of the real meaning of the monarch, "had not the same unlucky disease under which your Majesty is also suffering attacked the Connétable, I should ere this have been a husband."
"No," was the hurried reply, as the King looked steadfastly at his intended victim, "such is not my meaning. What I desire is to bestow upon you the hand of Mademoiselle d'Aumale, and by this means to revive the duchy of Aumale in your favour."
"But I am betrothed, Sire, and cannot take a second wife!"
"Bassompierre," said Henry with an emotion which he was unable to conceal, "I have become passionately attached to Mademoiselle de Montmorency. If you marry her and she loves you, you will be the object of my hatred; while should I, under such circumstances, induce her to love me, you would hate me in your turn. You are aware of my attachment towards yourself, and it will be far better to avoid this risk by not placing either party in so trying a position. As regards the lady, I have resolved upon uniting her to my nephew the Prince de Condé, and keeping her at Court. Her presence and intercourse will be the charm and amusement of the old age which is fast creeping upon me. I shall give to my nephew, who is young and who prefers a thousand times a hunt to a lady's love, a hundred thousand francs a year with which to amuse himself, and all that I shall ask of his wife in return will be the affection of a child."
The habits and manners of the Court at that age admitted but of one reply to this cold and selfish declaration. Bassompierre pressed his lips upon the hand which lay upon the velvet coverlet, and assured the King that it had ever been the desire of his life to find an opportunity of sacrificing his own happiness to that of his Majesty; that he did not seek to deny the extent of his disappointment; but that he nevertheless voluntarily pledged himself never again to renew a suit which counteracted the views and wishes of his sovereign, and trusted that this new passion might be productive of as much delight to his Majesty as the loss of such a bride must have grieved himself, had he not been amply consoled by the consciousness of having merited the confidence of his King.