ast apartments,
and, looking around him, attentively counted the powerful and submissive
men who surrounded him.

Counting them, he admired himself. The chiefs of the great families,
the princes of the Church, the presidents of all the parliaments, the
governors of the provinces, the marshals and generals-in-chief of the
armies, the nuncio, the ambassadors of all the kingdoms, the deputies
and senators of the republics, were motionless, submissive, and ranged
around him, as if awaiting his orders. There was no longer a look to
brave his look, no longer a word to raise itself against his will, not a
project that men dared to form in the most secret recesses of the heart,
not a thought which did not proceed from his. Mute Europe listened to
him by its representatives. From time to time he raise an imperious
voice, and threw a self-satisfied word to this pompous circle, as a
man who throws a copper coin among a crowd of beggars. Then might be
distinguished, by the pride which lit up his looks and the joy visible
in his countenance, the prince who had received such a favor.

Transformed into another man, he seemed to have made a step in the
hierarchy of power, so surrounded with unlooked-for adorations and
sudden caresses was the fortunate courtier, whose obscure happiness
the Cardinal did not even perceive. The King's brother and the Duc
de Bouillon stood in the crowd, whence the minister did not deign to
withdraw them. Only he ostentatiously said that it would be well
to dismantle a few fortresses, spoke at length of the necessity of
pavements and quays at Paris, and said in two words to Turenne that
he might perhaps be sent to the army in Italy, to seek his baton as
marechal from Prince Thomas.

While Richelieu thus played with the great and small things of Europe,
amid his noisy fete, the Queen was informed at the Louvre that the time
was come for her to proceed to the Cardinal's palace, where the King
awaited her after the tragedy. The serious Anne of Austria did not
witness any play; but she could not refuse her presence at the fete of
the Prime-Minister. She was in her oratory, ready to depart, and covered
with pearls, her favorite ornament; standing opposite a large glass with
Marie de Mantua, she was arranging more to her satisfaction one or two
details of the young Duchess's toilette, who, dressed in a long pink
robe, was herself contemplating with attention, though with somewhat of
ennui and a little sullennes