Some of the town councilors who had got out sooner had gone to
entreat the Duke of Orleans to stop the massacre, but he would
Do nothing but whistle, and refer them to his nephew De Beaufort.
They were standing there, poor men, and he tapping his lip with his
cane, stroking down his moustache, and listening to them with a sneer
as they entreated him not to let their fellows perish. And then
among them stood up Clement, with his old echevin by his side. He
was resolved, he said, and began 'Son of Henri IV., will you see the
people perish whom he loved from the bottom of his heart? Yes,
Monsieur, you inherit the charm by which he drew hearts after him,
and was a true king of men! Will you misuse that attraction to make
them fly at one another's throats? In the name of the great Henri
and his love for his people, I appeal to you to call off yonder
assassins.'
He had so far prevailed that Beaufort muttered something about not
knowing things had gone so far, and assured the magistrates round him
of his protection. He even went to the door and told some of his
prime tools of agitation that it was enough, and that they might give
the signal of recall; but whether things had gone too far, or whether
he was not sincere, the tumult did not quiet down till midnight.
After all, the rogues had the worst of it, for two hundred bodies of
theirs were picked up, and only three magistrates and twenty-five
deputies, though a good many more were hurt.
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