There was the Archbishop of Corinth, the
Coadjutor to the Archbishop of Paris, who had been mortally offended
by the way in which the Queen had treated him on the day of the
barricades; there was the handsome, fair-haired Duke of Beaufort, a
grandson of Henri IV., who used to be called 'Le roi des halles,' he
was such a favourite with the market-women; there was the clever
brilliant Prince de Marsillac (you know will his maxims, written
after he had become Duke of Rochefoucauld). He could do anything
with Madame de Longueville; and she was thought able to do anything
with her brothers, the Prince of Code and Conti. Every one had been
watching to see what side the Prince would take, but at this time he
seemed inclined to the Crown, though it was not likely he could go on
long without quarrelling with Mazarin. All this made the Frondeurs
hope much from beginning to resist; but I remember Sir Andrew said
that he did not believe that these nobles and princes cared in the
least for relieving the people, but merely for overthrowing the
Cardinal, and he could not find out that the Parliament had any
definite scheme, or knew what they wished. In fact, Sir Andrew
dreaded any movement. He had been so much disappointed, and so
broken-hearted at the loss of friends and the ruin of the country,
that his only thought was to leave all alone. And above all he so
thought, when every letter from England told how the enemy were
proceeding to hunt down his Sacred Majesty.
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