people around, and without addressing anybody, said, with an air of
vexation, these few words:

"The Duchesse de Bourgogne is hurt."

M. de la Rochefoucauld at once uttered an exclamation. M. de Bouillon,
the Duc de Tresmes, and Marechal de Boufflers repeated in a, low tone the
words I have named; and M. de la Rochefoucauld returning to the charge,
declared emphatically that it was the greatest misfortune in the world,
and that as she had already wounded herself on other occasions, she might
never, perhaps, have any more children.

"And if so," interrupted the King all on a sudden, with anger, "what is
that to me? Has she not already a son; and if he should die, is not the
Duc de Berry old enough to marry and have one? What matters it to the
who succeeds me,--the one or the other? Are the not all equally my
grandchildren?" And immediately, with impetuosity he added, "Thank God,
she is wounded, since she was to be so; and I shall no longer be annoyed
in my journeys and in everything I wish to do, by the representations of
doctors, and the reasonings of matrons. I shall go and come at my
pleasure, and shall be left in peace."

A silence so deep that an ant might be heard to walk, succeeded this
strange outburst. All eyes were lowered; no one hardly dared to breathe.
All remained stupefied. Even the domestics and the gardeners stood
motionless.

This silence lasted more than a quarter of an hour. The King broke it as
he leaned upon a balustrade to speak of a carp. Nobody replied. He
addressed himself afterwards on the subject of these carps to domestics,