jealousy between the governments."

The ill-humor created by this event lasted a long time, serving to
neutralize or at least perceptibly diminish the Spanish influence
produced in France by the Spanish marriages. In the autumn, Secretary de
Puysieux by command of the King ordered every Spaniard to leave the
French court. All the "Spanish ladies and gentlemen, great and small,"
who had accompanied the Queen from Madrid were included in this expulsion
with the exception of four individuals, her Majesty's father confessor,
physician, apothecary, and cook.

The fair young queen was much vexed and shed bitter tears at this
calamity, which, as she spoke nothing but Spanish, left her isolated at
the court, but she was a little consoled by the promise that thenceforth
the King would share her couch. It had not yet occurred to him that he
was married.

The French envoys at the Hague exhausted themselves in efforts, both
private and public, in favour of the prisoners, but it was a thankless
task. Now that the great man and his chief pupils and adherents were out
of sight, a war of shameless calumny was began upon him, such as has
scarcely a parallel in political history.

It was as if a whole tribe of noxious and obscene reptiles were swarming
out of the earth which had suddenly swallowed him. But it was not alone
the obscure or the anonymous who now triumphantly vilified him. Men in
high places who had partaken of his patronage, who had caressed him and
grovelled before him, who had grown great through his tuition and rich
through his bounty, now rejoiced in his ruin or hastened at least to save
themselves from being involved in it. Not a man of them all but fell