feet.

On the day in question the king started out to visit his minister,
Sully, at the Arsenal. It was then in turning from the Rue Saint Honore
into the Rue de la Ferroniere that the royal coach, frequently blocked
by crowds, offered the opportunity to the assassin Ravaillac, who,
jumping upon the footboard, stabbed the king twice in the breast.

After having been wounded the king was brought dying to the Louvre. His
royal coach drew up beneath the vault through which throngs all Paris
to-day searching for a "short cut" from the river to Saint Honore. It
was but a short, brief journey to the royal apartments above in the
Pavilion de l'Horloge, but it must have been an interminable calvary to
the gallant Henri de Navarre. The body was received by Marie de Medici
in tears, and the Ducs de Guise and d'Epernon clattered out the
courtyard on horseback to spread the false news that the king had
suffered no harm. Fearing the results of too precipitate publishing of
the disaster no other course was open.

A gruesome memory is that the Swiss Guard at the Louvre surreptitiously
acquired a "_quartier_" of the dismembered body of the regicide and
roasted it in a fire set alight beneath the balcony of Marie de Medici
as an indication of their faithfulness and loyalty.

It was Sully, the king's minister, who ran first up the stairs to
acquaint the queen of the tragedy--faithful ever to the interests of his
royal master. In spite of this, one of the first acts of Marie de Medici
as regent was to drive the Baron de Rosny and Duc de Sully away. Such is
virtue's reward--sometimes.

* * * * *

"Lying on his bed, his face uncovered, clad in white satin and a bonnet
of red velvet embroidered with gold, was all that remained of Henri IV
of France and Navarre. Around the bed were nuns and monks from all the
monasteries of Paris to keep vigil of his soul."

So ends the chronicle closing the chapter of the relations of Henri IV
with his Paris palace.

No particularly tragic event took place here for some years. Henriette
de France, widow of Charles I of England, taking refuge in France from
the troublous revolt at home, lived in the Louvre in 1644. She had at
first been graciously received by Mazarin, but was finally accorded only
the most strict necessities of life, a mere lodging in the Louvre, a
modest budget and a restricted entourage.

In 1662, under Louis XIV, Moliere and his troup, in a theatre