not to omit me in your prophecies."

To whom Monsieur Cagliostro says, scornfully, "You may look forward to
fifty years of life, after most of these are laid in the grave. You shall
be a king, but not die one; and shall leave the crown only; not the
worthless head that shall wear it. Thrice shall you go into exile; you
shall fly from the people, first, who would have no more of you and your
race; and you shall return home over half a million of human corpses, that
have been made for the sake of you, and of a tyrant as great as the
greatest of your family. Again driven away, your bitterest enemy shall
bring you back. But the strong limbs of France are not to be chained by
such a paltry yoke as you can put on her: you shall be a tyrant, but in
will only; and shall have a scepter, but to see it robbed from your hand."

"And pray, Sir Conjurer, who shall be the robber?" asked Monsieur the
Count d'Artois.

This I can not say, for here my dream ended. The fact is, I had fallen
asleep on one of the stone benches in the Avenue de Paris, and at this
instant was awakened by a whirling of carriages and a great clattering of
national guards, lancers, and outriders, in red. His Majesty, Louis
Philippe, was going to pay a visit to the palace; which contains several
pictures of his own glorious actions, and which has been dedicated, by
him, to all the glories of France.




Versailles in 1739