h as
that!" This caused a burst of laughter, but nothing could make her
change her opinion. Her vanity was cruelly punished. She used to affect
to apologise for having married the Marechal de la Meilleraye. After his
death, being in love with Saint-Ruth, her page, she married him; but took
care not to disclose her marriage for fear of losing her distinction at
Court. Saint-Ruth was a very honourable gentleman, very poor, tall, and
well made, whom everybody knew; extremely ugly--I don't know whether he
became so after his marriage. He was a worthy man and a good soldier.
But he was also a rough customer, and when his distinguished wife annoyed
him he twirled his cudgel and belaboured her soundly. This went so far
that the Marechale, not being able to stand it any longer, demanded an
audience of the King, admitted her weakness and her shame, and implored
his protection. The King kindly promised to set matters to rights. He
soundly rated Saint-Ruth in his cabinet, and forbade him to ill-treat the
Marechale. But what is bred in the bone will never get out of the flesh.
The Marechale came to make fresh complaints. The King grew angry in
earnest, and threatened Saint-Ruth. This kept him quiet for some time.
But the habit of the stick was too powerful; and he flourished it again.
The Marechale flew as usual to the King, who, seeing that Saint-Ruth was
incorrigible, was good enough to send him to Guyenne under pretence, of
employment. Afterwards he was sent to Ireland; where he was killed.

The Marechale de la Meilleraye had been perfectly beautiful, and was full
of wit. She so turned the head of the Cardinal de Retz, that he wanted
to turn everything topsy-turvy in France, in order to make himself, a
necessary man and force the King to use his influence at Rome in order to
obtain a dispensation by which he (the Cardinal) should be allowed,
though a priest--and a consecrated bishop, to marry the Marechale de la
Meilleraye while her husband was alive and she on very good terms with
him! This madness is inconceivable and yet existed.

I have described in its place the disgrace of Cardinal de Bouillon, and
the banishment to which he was sentenced. Exile did not improve him.
He languished in weariness and rage, and saw no hope that his position
would ever change. Incapable of repose, he had passed all his long
enforced leisure in a monastic war. The monks of Cluni were his
antagonists. He was constantly bringing