and in this posture. The next day the story was told to the King, and afforded the Court some amusement.” The sister here alluded to, was Mary, afterwards married to Lorenzo Colonna, Constable of the Kingdom of Naples. She was the first passion of Louis the Fourteenth, and it was only the strong measures adopted by Cardinal Mazarin, who dreaded the vengeance of the princes of the blood, that prevented the young King from making her his wife.

At the age of thirteen, Hortensia Mancini was married to Armand Charles de la Porte, Duke de Meilleraye and Mayenne, and a Peer of France. Her uncle had intended this nobleman for his niece Mary, but Meilleraye disappointed him by falling in love with her more beautiful sister. "If he did not marry her," he said," he was sure he should die in three months." The Cardinal at last gave his consent, on condition that Meilleraye and his heirs should adopt the name, title, and arms of Mazarin for ever. Mazarin died the following year, bequeathing his niece, it was said, the almost incredible sum of one million six hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds sterling.

The character of the Duke de Meilleraye, or, as he was now called, the Duke de Mazarin, was little in unison with that of his young, beautiful, and hair-brained Duchess. He seems to have been a solemn fool, jealous of his wife, narrow-minded, ill-natured, and capricious. He was not only a devotee, but believed himself inspired. His visions and revelations were the jest of the Court. To such an extent did he carry his devotional prejudices, that, having taken under his charge an infant child of Madame de Richelieu, he actually forbade the nurse to give it suck on the fasting-days of the church. St. Evremond has a pleasant allusion to his nocturnal

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fancies. "Madame de Mazarin," he says, 66 was very wretched. She used to long for the approach of night, which brings succour to the most unhappy by drowning the sense of their miseries. But even this comfort was denied her. No sooner did she close her beautiful eyes, but Monsieur de Mazarin, this amiable husband, used to wake his best beloved, to make her partaker-you would never guess of what-to make her partaker of his midnight visions ?" He adds in another place," that nature has set reason and Monsieur de Mazarin so far apart, that it was almost impossible they could ever come together."

The Duke is known to have laid down and published a code of moral rules, many of which are irresistibly ludicrous, but from their nature are unfit to be repeated. One of his practices was to make constant progresses through the large tracts of country which he possessed in different provinces. On these occasions he was accompanied by a numerous and motley train of enthusiasts, half ecclesiastics and half laymen.

With this strange personage the most self-willed and vivacious woman of her time continued to live for about six years. At length his follies and eccentricities wearied her beyond all endurance, and accordingly she suddenly quitted her husband's house, and instituted a suit against him in the Courts of Law for a separation and a division of effects. Her principal objections to him were his jealous disposition, his rigorous sanctity, his forcing her to accompany him on the most harassing journeys even when on the eve of her confinement, and the large amount of her wealth which he squandered in alms. He had also grossly insulted her by hinting at her having been guilty of familiarities with one of her nearest relations. While her suit was pending, the Duchess, who was

still only nineteen, found a refuge in different convents. Suddenly freed from an intolerable restraint, her wild frolics and volatile behaviour excited the anger and astonishment of the peaceable nuns. Her companion was Madame de Courcelles, young, gay, handsome, and married like herself. One of the pranks of these lively ladies was to mix ink with the holy water, in order that the nuns might black their faces when they crossed themselves. Another amusement was to wait till the dead of night, when they used to run through the sleeping-rooms of the holy sisterhood, with a number of small dogs yelling and barking at their heels. The Duchess herself refers to these frolics in her memoirs, though she insists that they were greatly exaggerated. "It is true, however," she says, "that we filled two great chests that were over the dormitory with water, and not perceiving the chinks in the floor, the water run through and wet the beds of the poor nuns: it is true also that on pretence of keeping us company, they never suffered us to be out of their sight. The oldest of the nuns, as being the most difficult to be bribed, was selected for this purpose; but, as we had nothing to do but to run about, we soon tired them out, one after another, and one or two of them sprained their legs in endeavouring to give us chase."

At length, her frolics having obtained for her a very disagreeable notoriety at Court, it was thought expedient that she should return to the Palais de Mazarin; the Duchess, however, stipulating that, till the termination of the suit, she should occupy apartments separate from those of her inspired husband. It happened that her brother, the Duke de Nevers, resided in the adjoining palace to that of Mazarin. As her actions were constantly watched whenever she went abroad, and as her

brother was also her friend, she caused a passage to be broken in the wall, by which means she could obtain access at all hours to his apartments. In a suit, which many years afterwards was instituted by the Duke de Mazarin for the recovery of his wife's person, his advocate, Monsieur Herard, dwells at some length on this circumstance: "Through this breach," he says, "she conveyed away all the plate and richest furniture of her apartments, which amounted to an immense value." It is but fair to add, however, that the circumstance was solemnly denied in a defence of the Duchess published at the time, and that the amount of the valuables thus removed was reduced to a single necklace.

Her suit was now drawing to a conclusion, and, it was evident, with but slender hopes of success. As a decision given in favour of her husband would have invested him with increased conjugal powers, the reckless beauty determined on seeking safety in flight. Accordingly, on the 14th of June 1667, on a pretence of indisposition, she secluded herself, with a favourite female domestic, in her sleeping apartment. Night having set in, their first step was to disguise themselves in male attire, in which costume they contrived to escape through one of the gates of the city, to a spot where a carriage awaited them. Her other attendants were a servant of her brother's, and a Monsieur Courbeville, who had been prevailed upon to accompany her, but whom she had now beheld for the first time. The Chevalier de Rohan, one of the handsomest and most gallant men of the Court, and on whom she was supposed to have bestowed some favours, was also her companion during the first stages of her expedition. It was not till the following morning that her flight was discovered. Her husband instantly flew to the King, and implored him to give orders that she might be arrested before she

reached the frontiers. Her progress, however, had been too rapid, and she had already passed them before the order reached the authorities.

Her first flight was into Switzerland, and from thence into Italy. "We were known," she says, "in almost every place, to be women; Nanon, my maid, continuing still, through forgetfulness, to call me Madam. Whether

from this reason, or that my face gave cause of suspicion, the people, when we had shut ourselves in, used to watch through the keyholes; by which means they discovered our long tresses, which, as soon as we were left at liberty, as they were extremely inconvenient under our perriwigs, we used gladly to untie. Nanon was particularly low in stature, and her figure was so ill adapted to man's apparel, that I could never look upon her without laughing."

We have neither space nor leisure to follow this strange lady through all her fantastic wanderings and wild adventures. During the following years she rambled over most of the countries of Europe, "carrying with her," says Monsieur Mazarin's advocate, "her own and her husband's shame over the world." We may remark, however, that after a residence of some length at Rome, and after a series of accidents in which she encountered the advances of rude soldiers and gallant cardinals, she again returned to France in disguise. This circumstance having become known to her husband, and her personal freedom being thus placed in considerable danger, she removed hastily into Savoy, and, after a residence of three years at Chamberry, came to the determination of paying a visit to England. Accordingly she embarked at Rotterdam, and, after a violent storm at sea which lasted five days, arrived in London in December 1678. She was at this period in her twenty-ninth year, and, although the freshness of youth no longer bloomed upon her cheek, her