“True, how could any good ideas come to such a butcher? But to whom, then, am I to be grateful for aid to my cousin Guise?” “To me, sire.” “To you!” cried Henri, as if in astonishment. “How! when I saw all the world unchained against me, the preachers against my vices, the poets against my weaknesses, while my friends laughed at my powerlessness, and my situation was so harassing, that it gave me gray hairs every day: such an idea came to you, François--to you, whom I confess, for man is feeble and kings are blind, I did not always believe to be my friend! Ah! François, how guilty I have been.” And Henri, moved even to tears, held out his hand to his brother. Chicot opened his eyes again. “Oh!” continued Henri, “the idea is triumphant. Not being able to raise troops without raising an outcry, scarcely to walk, sleep, or love, without exciting ridicule, this idea gives me at once an army, money, friends, and repose. But my cousin spake of a chief?” “Yes, doubtless.” “This chief, you understand, François, cannot be one of my favorites; none of them has at once the head and the heart necessary for so important a post. Quelus is brave, but is occupied only by his amours. Maugiron is also brave, but he thinks only of his toilette. Schomberg also, but he is not clever. D’Epernon is a valiant man, but he is a hypocrite, whom I could not trust, although I am friendly to him. But you know, François, that one of the heaviest taxes on a king is the necessity of dissimulation; therefore, when I can speak freely from my heart, as I do now, I breathe. Well, then, if my cousin Guise originated this idea, to the development of which you have assisted, the execution of it belongs to him.” “What do you say, sire?” said François, uneasily. “I say, that to direct such a movement we must have a prince of high rank.” “Sire, take care.” “A good captain and a skilful negotiator.” “The last particularly.” “Well, is not M. de Guise all this?” “My brother, he is very powerful already.” “Yes, doubtless; but his power makes my strength.” “He holds already the army and the bourgeois; the cardinal holds the Church, and Mayenne is their instrument; it is a great deal of power to be concentrated in one family.” “It is true, François; I had thought of that.” “If the Guises were French princes, their interest would be to aggrandize France.” “Yes, but they are Lorraines.” “Of a house always rival to yours.” “Yes, François; you have touched the sore. I did not think you so good a politician. Yes, there does not pass a day but one or other of these Guises, either by address or by force, carries away from me some particle of my power. Ah! François, if we had but had this explanation sooner, if I had been able to read your heart as I do now, certain of support in you, I might have resisted better, but now it is too late.” “Why so?” “Because all combats fatigue me; therefore I must make him chief of the League.” “You will be wrong, brother.”