had come to Avignon to request this exchange in person. We were
quite decided, madam, and had made a vow to God that we would give up
everything rather than suffer the hateful tyranny of the French. But
before spilling blood we thought it best to secure your august person as
a sacred hostage, a sacred ark which no man dared touch but was smitten
to the ground, which indeed must keep away from our walls the scourge
of war. We have now read the formal annulment of this hateful plan, in
a brief sent by the sovereign pontiff from Avignon; and in this brief he
himself guarantees your good faith.

"We give you your full and entire liberty, and henceforth we shall only
endeavour to keep you among us by prayers and protestations. Go then,
madam, if that is your pleasure, but before you leave these lands, which
will be plunged into mourning by your withdrawal, leave with us some
hope that you forgive the apparent violence to which we have subjected
you, only in the fear that we might lose you; and remember that on the
day when you cease to be our queen you sign the death-warrant of all
your subjects."

Joan reassured the archbishop and the deputation from her good town of
Aix with a melancholy smile, and promised that she would always cherish
the memory of their affection. For this time she could not be deceived
as to the real sentiments of the nobles and people; and a fidelity so
uncommon, revealed with sincere tears, touched her heart and made her
reflect bitterly upon her past. But a league's distance from Avignon a
magnificent triumphal reception awaited her. Louis of Tarentum and all
the cardinals present at the court had come out to meet her. Pages in
dazzling dress carried above Joan's head a canopy of scarlet velvet,
ornamented with fleur-de-lys in gold and plumes. Handsome youths and
lovely girls, their heads crowned with flowers, went before her singing
her praise. The streets were bordered with a living hedge of people; the
houses were decked out; the bells rang a triple peal, as at the great
Church festivals. Clement VI first received the queen at the castle
of Avignon with all the pomp he knew so well how to employ on solemn
occasions, then she was lodged in the palace of Cardinal Napoleon of the
Orsini, who on his return from the Conclave at Perugia had built this
regal dwelling at Villeneuve, inhabited later by the popes.

No words could give an idea of the strangely disturbed condition of
Avignon at this period