at will my wife say?
She has gotten this coronation marvellously into her head."

"She may say what she likes," rejoined Sully. "But I cannot think that,
when she knows your opinion about it, she will persist any longer."

He did not know Mary de' Medici. She did persist strongly and
offensively. For three days the matter was disputed, with high words on
both sides. In the end, Henry, weary of the contention, and finding it
impossible to convince or silence his obstinate wife, gave way, and the
laborers were again set to work to prepare for the coronation.

Despite his presentiments Henry remained in Paris, and gave orders for
the immediate performance of the ceremony, as if he were anxious to have
done with it, and to pass the crisis in his life which he feared. The
coronation was proclaimed on the 12th of May, 1610. It took place on the
13th, at St. Denys. The tragical event which he had dreaded did not take
place. He breathed easier.

On the next day, the 14th, he took it in mind to go to the arsenal to
see Sully, who was ill. Yet the same indecision and fear seemed to
possess him. He stirred about in an unquiet and irresolute mood, saying
several times to the queen, "My dear, shall I go or not?"

He went so far as to leave the room two or three times, but each time
returned, in the same doubt.

"My dear, shall I really go?" he said to the queen; and then, making up
his mind, he kissed her several times and bade her adieu.

"I shall only go there and back," he said; "I shall be here again almost
directly."

On reaching his carriage, M. de Praslin, the captain of his guard,
proposed to attend him, but he would not permit it, saying,--

"Get you gone; I want nobody; go about your business."

Yet that morning, in a conversation with Guise and Bassompierre, he had
spoken as if he dreaded quickly coming death.

"You will live, please God, long years yet," said Bassompierre. "You are
only in the flower of your age, in perfect bodily health and strength,
full of honor more than any mortal man, in the most flourishing kingdom
in the world, loved and adored by your subjects, with fine houses, fine
women, fine children who are growing up."

Henry sighed, as if still oppressed by his presentiments, and sadly
answered,--

"My friend, all that must be left."

Those were his last words of which any record remains, save the few he
spoke in the carriage. A few hours afterwards all the earthly blessings
of which Bass