attacking me, and Madame Adelaide was the herald to announce the
beginning of the tournament."

"Did she venture to bring any accusations against your majesty?"
asked Besenval. The queen replying in the affirmative with a nod, he
went on. "But what can they say? Whence do they draw the poisoned
arrows to wound the noblest and truest of hearts?"

"They draw them from their jealousy, from their hatred against the
house of Austria, from the rage with which they look upon the manner
in which the king has bestowed his love. 'What can they say?' They
make out of little things monstrous crimes. They let a pebble grow
into a great rock, with which they strive to smite me down. Oh, my
friend, I have suffered a great deal to-day, and, in order to tell
you this, I chose you as my companion. I dare not complain before
the king," Marie Antoinette went on, while two tears rolled slowly
down her cheeks, "for I will not be the means of opening a breach in
the family, and the king would cause them to feel his wrath who have
drawn tears from the eyes of his wife. But you are my friend,
Besenval, and I confide in your friendship and in your honor. Now,
tell me, you who know the world, and who are my senior in experience
of life, tell me whether I do wrong to live as I do. Are the king's
aunts right in charging it upon me as a crime, that I take part in
the simple joys of life, that I take delight in my youth and am
happy? Is the Count de Provence right in charging me, as with a
crime, that I am the chief counsellor of the king, and that I
venture to give him my views regarding political matters? Am I
really condemned to stand at an unapproachable distance from the
people and the court, like a beautiful statue? Is it denied to me to
have feeling, to love and to hate, like everybody else? Is the Queen