dare so much, having so little real power, what might she not do if..."
He broke off, and fell to musing. "If she demands it we must yield,
I suppose," he said at length. "But give her to understand that if I
discover any more of her designs with Spain I shall be provoked to the
last degree against her. And as an antidote to these machinations at
Madrid you may publish my intention to uphold the claims of the German
Princes in the matter of Cleves, and let all the world know that we are
arming to that end."

He may have thought--as was long afterwards alleged--that the threat
itself should be sufficient, for there was at that time no power in
Europe that could have stood against his armies in the field.

On that they parted, with a final injunction from Sully that Henry
should see the Princesse de Conde no more.

"I swear to you, Grand Master, that I will use restraint and respect
the sacred tie I formed between my nephew and Charlotte solely so that I
might impose silence upon my own passion."

And the good Sully writes in comment upon this: "I should have relied
absolutely upon these assurances had I not known how easy it is for a
heart tender and passionate as was his to deceive itself"--which is
the most amiable conceivable way of saying that he attached not the
slightest faith to the King's promise.

Nevertheless he went about the task of making the peace between the
royal couple with all the skill and tact that experience had taught him;
and he might have driven a good bargain on his master's behalf but for
his master's own weakness in supporting him. Maria de' Medici would
not hear of the banishment of the Concinis, to whom she was so deeply
attached. She insisted with perfect justice that she was a bitterly
injured woman, and refused to entertain any idea of reconciliation save
with the condition that arrangements for her coronation as Queen of
France--which was no more than her due--should be made at once, and that
the King should give an undertaking not to make himself ridiculous any
longer by his pursuit of the Princess of Conde. Of the matters contained
in the letter of Vaucelas she denied all knowledge, nor would suffer any
further inquisition.

From Henry's point of view this was anything but satisfactory. But he
yielded. Conscience made a coward of him. He had wronged her so much
in one way that he must make some compensating concessions to her in
another. This weakness was part of his mental attit