and leave the conduct of the campaign to his generals. She represented
her own inexperience in state affairs, the extreme youth of the Dauphin,
and the long life which he himself might still enjoy if he did not
voluntarily place himself in situations of peril, which was the less
required of him as he had already established his fame as a soldier
throughout the whole of Europe. Henry answered only by a jest. Love and
ambition alike lured him on; and beneath their baneful influence
prudence and reason were silenced.[14]

On the morning succeeding the coronation of his royal consort, the King
attended mass at the church of the Feuillants, where he was accompanied
by the Duc de Guise and M. de Bassompierre; and as he was still in the
same exuberant spirits as on the preceding day, a great deal of light
and desultory conversation took place during their return to the palace;
which was, however, abruptly terminated by Henry, whose countenance
became suddenly overcast as he said in reply to a gay remark made by M.
de Guise--

"Even you do not understand me now; but one of these days, when I am
dead, you will learn my value."

"My God! Sire," exclaimed Bassompierre, "will you never cease to pain us
by these constant allusions to your approaching death? These are things
which should not be said. You will live, please God, long and happy
years. What fate can be more enviable than your own? You are now in the
prime of life, strong and healthy; surrounded by honour and respect; in
tranquil possession of the most flourishing kingdom upon earth; adored
by your subjects; rich in money, palaces, and lands; wooed by fair
women; loved by handsome favourites; with a host of noble children
growing up about you. What can you require beyond this, and what more do