the arms of France and of Navarre. He was attended by
many prelates and the prior and monks of St. Denis: the cross and the
book of the Gospels were held before him. Henry drew nigh. "Who are
you?" demanded the archbishop. "I am the king." "What do you ask?" "I
wish to be received in the bosom of the Catholic, Apostolic and Roman
Church." "Is it your will?" "Yes, I will and desire it." Henry then
knelt and made profession of his faith, kissed the prelate's ring,
received his blessing and was led to the choir, where he knelt before
the high altar and repeated his profession of faith on the holy
Gospels amid cries of "_Vive le roi!_"

The clerical extremists in Paris anathematised all concerned. Violent
_cures_ again donned their armour, children were baptised and mass was
sung by cuirassed priests. The _cure_ of St. Cosme seized a partisan,
and with other fanatics of the League hastened to the Latin Quarter to
raise the university. But the people were heartsick of the whole
business; and when Henry entered Paris after his coronation at
Chartres, resplendent in velvet robes embroidered with gold and seated
on his dapple grey charger, his famous helmet with its white plumes
ever in his hand saluting the ladies at the windows, he was hailed
with shouts of joy. Shops were reopened, the artisan took up his tools
and the merchant went to his counter with a sigh of relief. A general
amnesty was proclaimed, and the Spanish garrison were allowed to
depart with their arms. As they filed out of the Porte St. Denis in
heavy rain, three thousand strong, the king was sitting at a window
above the gates. "Remember me to your master," he cried, "but do not
return." On the morrow the provost and sheriffs and chief citizens
came to the Louvre bearing presents of sweetmeats, sugar-plums and
malmsey wine. "Yesterday I received your hearts, to-day I receive your
sweets," the king remarked; all were charmed by his wit, his
forbearance and generosity. The stubborn university was last to give
way, but when the doctors of theology learnt that Henry had touched
for the king's evil and that many had been cured, they too were
convinced. Paris, "well worth a mass," was wooed and won. The
memorable Edict of Nantes established liberty of worship and political
equality for the Protestants. The war with Spain was brought to a
successful issue, and Henry, with his minister the Duke of Sully,
probably the greatest financial genius France has ever known, b