ons. Nothing, however, could be more preposterous than such
phrases. Villeroy, who now entirely directed the foreign affairs of the
kingdom, assured the Ambassador that France was much more likely to apply
to the States for assistance than render them aid in any enterprise
whatever. "There is no doubt," said Aerssens, "that the Queen is entirely
in the hands of Spain and the priests." Villeroy, whom Henry was wont to
call the pedagogue of the council, went about sighing dismally, wishing
himself dead, and perpetually ejaculating, "Ho! poor France, how much
hast thou still to suffer!" In public he spoke of nothing but of union,
and of the necessity of carrying out the designs of the King, instructing
the docile Queen to hold the same language. In private he was quite
determined to crush those designs for ever, and calmly advised the Dutch
government to make an amicable agreement with the Emperor in regard to
the Cleve affair as soon as possible; a treaty which would have been
shameful for France and the possessory princes, and dangerous, if not
disastrous, for the States-General. "Nothing but feverish and sick
counsels," he said, "could be expected from France, which had now lost
its vigour and could do nothing but groan."

Not only did the French council distinctly repudiate the idea of doing
anything more for the princes than had been stipulated by the treaty of
Hall--that is to say, a contingent of 8000 foot and 2000 horse--but many
of them vehemently maintained that the treaty, being a personal one of
the late king, was dead with him? The duty of France was now in their
opinion to withdraw from these mad schemes as soon as possible, to make
peace with the House of Austria without delay, and to cement the
friendship by the double marriages.

Bouillon, who at that moment hated Sully as much as the most vehement
Catholic could do, assured the Dutch envoy that the government was, under
specious appearances, attempting to deceive the States; a proposition
which it needed not the evidence of that most intriguing duke to make
manifest to so astute a politician; particularly as there was none more
bent on playing the most deceptive game than Bouillon. There would be no
troops to send, he said, and even if there were, there would be no
possibility of agreeing on a chief. The question of religion would at
once arise. As for himself, the Duke protested that he would not accept
the command if offered him. He would not agree to s