Mirabeau stopped it: "Tell him," he exclaimed, "that the hordes of
strangers who invest us, received yesterday, visits, caresses,
exhortations, and presents from the princes, princesses, and favourites;
tell him that, during the night, these foreign satellites, gorged with
gold and wine, predicted in their impious songs the subjection of France,
and invoked the destruction of the national assembly; tell him, that in
his own palace, courtiers danced to the sound of that barbarous music, and
that such was the prelude to the massacre of Saint Bartholomew! Tell him
that the Henry of his ancestors, whom he wished to take as his model,
whose memory is honoured by all nations, sent provisions into a Paris in
revolt when besieging the city himself, while the savage advisers of Louis
send away the corn which trade brings into Paris loyal and starving."

But at that moment the king entered the assembly. The duke de Liancourt,
taking advantage of the access his quality of master of the robes gave
him, had informed the king, during the night, of the desertion of the
French guard, and of the attack and taking of the Bastille. At this news,
of which his councillors had kept him in ignorance, the monarch exclaimed,
with surprise, "this is a revolt!" "No sire! it is a revolution." This
excellent citizen had represented to him the danger to which the projects
of the court exposed him; the fears and exasperations of the people, the
disaffection of the troops, and he determined upon presenting himself
before the assembly, to satisfy them as to his intentions. The news at
first excited transports of joy. Mirabeau represented to his colleagues,
that it was not fit to indulge in premature applause. "Let us wait," said
he, "till his majesty makes known the good intentions we are led to expect
from him. The blood of our brethren flows in Paris. Let a sad respect be
the first reception given to the king by the representatives of an
unfortunate people: the silence of the people is the lesson of kings."