give up
the archbishopric of Paris.

Next day President Bellievre came to me on the part of the King, with an
offer of seven abbeys, provided I would quit my archbishopric; but he
opened his mind to me with entire freedom, and said he could not but
think what a fool the Sicilian was to send him on such an errand. "Most
of your friends," said Bellievre, "think that you need only to stand out
resolutely, and that the Court will be glad to set you at liberty and
send you to Rome; but it is a horrid mistake, for the Court will be
satisfied with nothing but your resignation. When I say the Court, I
mean Mazarin; for the Queen will not bear the thought of giving you your
liberty. The chief thing that determines Mazarin to think of your
liberty is his fear of the Nuncio, the chapter, the cures, and the
people. But I dare affirm that the Nuncio will threaten mightily, but do
nothing; the chapter may perhaps make remonstrances, but to no purpose;
the cures will preach, and that is all; the people will clamour, but take
up no arms. The consequence will be your removal to Brest or
Havre-de-Grace, and leaving you in the hands of your enemies, who will
use you as they please. I know that Mazarin is not bloodthirsty, but I
tremble to think of what Noailles has told you, that they are resolved to
make haste and take such methods as other States have furnished examples
of. You may, perhaps, infer from my remarks that I would have you
resign. By no means. I have come to tell you that if you resign you
will do a dishonourable thing, and that it behooves you on this occasion
to answer the great expectation the world is now in on your account, even
to the hazarding of your life, and of your liberty, which I am persuaded
you value more than life itself. Now is the time for you to put forward
more than ever those maxims for which we have so much combated you: 'I
dread no poison nor sword! Nothing can hurt me but what is within me!
It matters not where one dies!' Thus you ought to answer those who speak
to you about your resignation."

I was carried from Vincennes, under guard, to Nantes, where I had
numerous visits and diversions, and was entertained with a comedy almost
every night, and the company of the ladies, particularly the charming
Mademoiselle de La Vergne, who in good truth did not approve of me,
either because she had no inclination for me, or else because her friends
had set her against me by telling her of my incon