"Thus would your hatred of him be served. Thus would you " Coolly she sliced into his foaming speech. "Not I not I!" she said. "Do nothing upon my advice. Summon your Council. Send for Tavannes, Biragues, Retz, and the others. Consult with them. They are your friends; you trust and believe in them. When they know the facts, see if their counsel will differ from your mother's.

"A subject who raises forces of his own, levies taxes of his own, garrisons Huguenot cities," said Biragues. "That is a very dangerous type of subject, Sire." "A subject who forces you into war with Protestant Flanders against Catholic Spain," added the blunt Tavannes. "Forces me?" roared the King, half rising, his eyes aflash. "That is a very daring word." "It would be if the proof were absent.

And you, M. de Retz," he continued, in a tone of savage mockery, "go, my lord, and give them!" "I, sire?" the Italian Marshal answered, in accents of deprecation. There were times when the young King would show his impatience of the Italian ring, the Retzs and Biragues, the Strozzis and Gondys, with whom his mother surrounded him. "Yes, you!" Charles answered. "You and my lady mother!

Send for them; they are in the Louvre now." He looked at her a moment. "Very well," he said; and reeled to the door, bawling hoarsely his orders. They came, one by one the Marshal de Tavannes, the Duke of Retz, the Duke of Nevers, the Chancellor de Biragues, and lastly the Duke of Guise, upon whom the King scowled a jealous hatred that was now fully alive.