Luc advanced and bowed to the old man, who tried to smile as he saluted him; then, turning to Bussy, said, "And this gentleman?" "He is our friend, M. Louis de Clermont, Comte de Bussy d'Amboise, gentleman of M. le Duc d'Anjou." At these words the old man started up, threw a withering glance at Bussy, and then sank back with a groan. "What is it?" said Jeanne.

"But," said Bussy, "we are losing time in preambles; to the point, monseigneur. You have need of me, I suppose?" "Ah, M. de Bussy!" "Yes, doubtless; do you think I believe that you come here through friendship; you, who love no one?" "Oh, Bussy, to say such things to me!" "Well, be quick, monseigneur, what do you want?

"But if the duke learns that Diana is alive, all is lost." "I see," said Bussy, "you believe M. de Monsoreau more than me. Say no more; you refuse my aid; throw yourself, then, into the arms of the man who has already so well merited your confidence. Adieu, baron; adieu, madame, you will see me no more." "Oh!" cried Diana, taking his hand.

"It is nothing, master," said Remy. "It was I who received the ball. She is safe." As Bussy turned, three men threw themselves on him; St. Luc rushed forward, and one of them fell. The two others drew back. "St. Luc," cried Bussy, "by her you love, save Diana." "But you?" "I am a man." St. Luc rushed to Diana, seized her in his arms, and disappeared through the door.

His faithful and pugnacious Bussy retaliated by having his pages dress like the King's minions, with doublets of cloth of gold, stiff ruffs, and great plumes, and so attend him at the Twelfth Day fetes. The minions, in their turn, sought revenge on Bussy by attacking him, on the following night, while he was returning from the Louvre to his lodgings.

This movement had been so rapid, that the ball fired at him from the arquebuse only struck the prie-Dieu. Diana sobbed aloud. Bussy glanced at her, and then at his assailants, crying, "Come on, but take care, for my sword is sharp." The men advanced, and one tried to seize the prie-Dieu, but before he reached it, Bussy's sword pierced his arm. The man uttered a cry, and fell back.

The chase terminated about four o'clock in the evening, and at five all the court returned to Paris. As they passed by the Bastile, the duke said to Bussy, "Look to the right, at that little wooden house with a statue of the Virgin before it; well, count four houses from that. It is the fifth you have to go to, just fronting the Rue St. Catherine."

Bussy D'Amboise, or the Husband's Revenge; a Tragedy; acted at the Theatre-Royal, 4to. 1691, addressed to Edward Earl of Carlisle. This is a play of Mr. Chapman's revis'd, and the character of Tamyra, Mr. D'Urfey tells us, he has altered for the better. The scene Paris.

"And I, M. le Baron," said Bussy, taking his hand, "recommend to you the patience and calm dignity of a Christian nobleman. God is merciful to noble hearts, and you know not what He reserves for you. I beg you also, while waiting for that day, not to count me among your enemies, for you do not know what I will do for you. Till to-morrow, then, baron, and early in the morning we will set off."

Monsoreau, who heard a murmur, tried to rise and look back after Diana. "Another movement like that, M. le Comte, and you will bring on the bleeding again," said Remy. Diana turned and rode back a little way, while Remy walked by the litter to occupy the count. A few seconds after, Bussy was by her side. "You see I follow you," said he, after their first embrace. "Oh!