that stick to one, expresses it) has Louis 'made the amende honorable to
God;' so does your Jesuit construe it.--"Wa, Wa," as the wild Clotaire
groaned out, when life was departing, "what great God is this that
pulls down the strength of the strongest kings!" (Gregorius Turonensis,
Histor. lib. iv. cap. 21.)

The amende honorable, what 'legal apology' you will, to God:--but not,
if D'Aiguillon can help it, to man. Dubarry still hovers in his
mansion at Ruel; and while there is life, there is hope. Grand-Almoner
Roche-Aymon, accordingly (for he seems to be in the secret), has
no sooner seen his pyxes and gear repacked, then he is stepping
majestically forth again, as if the work were done! But King's Confessor
Abbe Moudon starts forward; with anxious acidulent face, twitches him by
the sleeve; whispers in his ear. Whereupon the poor Cardinal must turn
round; and declare audibly; "That his Majesty repents of any subjects of
scandal he may have given (a pu donner); and purposes, by the strength
of Heaven assisting him, to avoid the like--for the future!" Words
listened to by Richelieu with mastiff-face, growing blacker; answered
to, aloud, 'with an epithet,'--which Besenval will not repeat. Old
Richelieu, conqueror of Minorca, companion of Flying-Table orgies,
perforator of bedroom walls, (Besenval, i. 159-172. Genlis; Duc de
Levis, &c.) is thy day also done?

Alas, the Chapel organs may keep going; the Shrine of Sainte Genevieve
be let down, and pulled up again,--without effect. In the evening the
whole Court, with Dauphin and Dauphiness, assist at the Chapel: priests
are hoarse with chanting their 'Prayers of Forty Hours;' and the heaving
bellows blow. Almost frightful! For the very heaven blackens; battering
rain-torrents dash, with thunder; almost drowning the organ's voice: and
electric fire-flashes make the very flambeaux on the altar pale. So that
the most, as we are told, retired, when it was over, with hurried steps,
'in a state of meditation (recueillement),' and said little or nothing.
(Weber, Memoires concernant Marie-Antoinette (London, 1809), i. 22.)

So it has lasted for the better half of a fortnight; the Dubarry gone
almost a week. Besenval says, all the world was getting impatient que
cela finit; that poor Louis would have done with it. It is now the 10th
of May 1774. He will soon have done now.

This tenth May day falls into the loathsome sick-bed; but dull,
unnoticed there: for they that look out of