he was gone out she asked me what he had said. I hesitated to answer; she
insisted that I should, saying that nothing must be concealed from her,
and that she was resigned upon every point.

When she was informed of the King's remark she told me she had guessed it,
that he had long since observed to her that all which was going forward in
France was an imitation of the revolution in England in the time of
Charles I., and that he was incessantly reading the history of that
unfortunate monarch in order that he might act better than Charles had
done at a similar crisis. "I begin to be fearful of the King's being
brought to trial," continued the Queen; "as to me, I am a foreigner; they
will assassinate me. What will become of my poor children?"

These sad ejaculations were followed by a torrent of tears. I wished to
give her an antispasmodic; she refused it, saying that only happy women
could feel nervous; that the cruel situation to which she was reduced
rendered these remedies useless. In fact, the Queen, who during her
happier days was frequently attacked by hysterical disorders, enjoyed more
uniform health when all the faculties of her soul were called forth to
support her physical strength.

I had prepared a corset for her, for the same purpose as the King's
under-waistcoat, without her knowledge; but she would not make use of it;
all my entreaties, all my tears, were in vain. "If the factions
assassinate me," she replied, "it will be a fortunate event for me; they
will deliver me from a most painful existence." A few days after the King
had tried on his breastplate I met him on a back staircase. I drew back
to let him pass. He stopped and took my hand; I wished to kiss his; he
would not suffer it, but drew me towards him by the hand, and kissed both
my cheeks without saying a single word.