ntly as he loved Gabrielle, was compelled to abandon the plan.
Gabrielle was inconsolable, and inveighed bitterly against Sully. The
king for a moment forgot himself, and cruelly retorted,

"Know, woman, that a minister like Sully must be dearer to me than
even such a friend as you."

This harshness broke the heart of the unhappy Gabrielle. She
immediately left Fontainebleau, where she was at that time with the
king, and retired to Paris, saying, as she bade Henry adieu, "We shall
never meet again." Her words proved true. On reaching Paris she was
seized with convulsions, gave birth to a lifeless child, and died.
Poor Gabrielle! Let compassion drop a tear over her grave! She was by
nature one of the most lovely and noble of women. She lived in a day
of darkness and of almost universal corruption. Yielding to the
temptation of a heroic monarch's love, she fell, and a subsequent life
of sorrow was terminated by an awful death, probably caused by poison.

Henry, as soon as informed of her sickness, mounted his horse to
gallop to Paris. He had proceeded but half way when he was met by a
courier who informed him that Gabrielle was dead. The dreadful blow
staggered the king, and he would have fallen from his horse had he not
been supported by his attendants. He retired to Fontainebleau, shut
himself up from all society, and surrendered himself to the most
bitter grief. Sully in vain endeavored to console him. It was long
before he could turn his mind to any business. But there is no pain
whose anguish time will not diminish. New cares and new loves at
length engrossed the heart where Gabrielle had for a few brief years
so supremely reigned.

The utterly profligate Marguerite, now that Gabrielle was dead, whom
she of course hated, was perfectly willing to assent to a divorce.
While arrangements were making to accomplish this end, the king
chanced to meet a fascinating, yet pert and heartless coquette,
Henriette d'Entragues, daughter of Francis Balzac, Lord of Entragues.
Though exceedingly beautiful, she was a calculating, soulless girl,
who was glad of a chance to sell herself for rank and money. She thus
readily bartered her beauty to the king, exacting, with the most cool
financiering, as the price, a written promise that he would marry her
as soon as he should obtain a divorce from Marguerite of Valois, upon
condition that she, within the year, should bear him a son.

The king, having written the promise, placed it in