at
whose house the Academy met] had forgotten to have the portrait of this
princess, which she had given to the society, placed in the room; which,
in my opinion, ought not to have been forgotten. Word was brought that
the carriage was entering the court-yard. The chancellor, followed by
the whole body, went to receive the princess. . . . As soon as she
entered the room, she went off-hand, according to her habit, and sat down
in her chair; and, at the same moment, without any order given us, we
also sat down. The princess, seeing that we were at some little distance
from the table, told us that we could draw up close to it. There was
some little drawing up, but not as if it were a dinner-party. . . .
Several pieces were read; and then the director, who was M. de la
Chambre, told the queen that the ordinary exercise of the society was to
work at the Dictionary, and that, if it were agreeable to her Majesty, a
sheet should be read. 'By all means,' said she. M. de Mezeray,
accordingly, read the word Jeux, under which, amongst other proverbial
expressions, there was, _'Jeux de princes, qui ne plaisent qu'a ceux qui
les font.' (Princes' jokes, which amuse only those who make them.)_ She
burst out laughing. The word, which was in fair copy, was finished. It
would have been better to read a word which had to be weeded, because
then we should all have spoken; but people were taken by surprise--the
French always are. . . . After about an hour, the princess rose, made
a courtesy to the company, and went away as she had come. Here is really
what passed at this famous interview, which, no doubt, does great honor
to the Academy.--The Duke of Anjou talks of coming to it, and the zealous
are quite transported with this bit of glory." [_OEuvres diverses de
Patru,_ t. ii. p. 512.]

Queen Christina returned the next year and passed some time at
Fontainebleau. It was there, in a gallery that King Louis Philippe
caused to be turned into apartments, which M. Guizot at one time
occupied, that she had her first equerry, Monaldeschi, whom she accused
of having betrayed her, assassinated almost before her own eyes; and she
considered it astonishing, and very bad taste, that the court of France
should be shocked at such an execution. "This barbarous princess," says
Madame de Motteville, "after so cruel an action as that, remained in her
room laughing and chatting as easily as if she had done something of no
consequence o