“Monseigneur,” said the Duc de Guise, “in thanking your royal highness for the words you have just uttered, I will add that you are surrounded by people devoted not only to the principles which you profess, but to the person of your highness; and if you have any doubt, the conclusion of this sitting will convince you.” “Monseigneur,” said the cardinal, “if your highness still experiences any fear, the names of those who now surround you will, I hope, reassure you. Here is M. le Gouverneur d’Aunis, M. d’Antragues, M. de Ribeirac, and M. de Livarot, and gentlemen whom your highness doubtless knows to be as brave as loyal. Here are, besides, M. de Castillon, M. le Baron de Lusignan, MM. Cruce and Leclerc, all ready to march under the guidance of your highness, to the emancipation of religion and the throne. We shall, then, receive with gratitude the orders that you will give us.” Then M. de Mayenne said: “You are by your birth, and by your wisdom, monseigneur, the natural chief of the Holy Union, and we ought to learn from you what our conduct should be with regard to the false friends of his majesty of whom you just now spoke.” “Nothing more simple,” replied the prince, with that feverish excitement which in weak natures supplies the place of courage to weak minds; “when venomous plants grow in a field, we root them up. The king is surrounded, not with friends, but with courtiers, who ruin him, and cause a perpetual scandal in France and all Christendom.” “It is true,” said the Duc de Guise, in a gloomy tone. “And,” said the cardinal, “these courtiers prevent us, who are his majesty’s true friends, from approaching him as we have the right to do by our birth and position.” “Let us, then,” said M. de Mayenne, “leave the heretics to the vulgar leaguers; let us think of those who annoy and insult us, and who often fail in respect to the prince whom we honor, and who is our chief.” The Duc d’Anjou grew red. “Let us destroy,” continued Mayenne, “to the last man, that cursed race whom the king enriches, and let each of us charge ourselves with the life of one. We are thirty here; let us count.” “I,” said D’Antragues, “charge myself with Quelus.” “I with Maugiron,” said Livarot. “And I with Schomberg,” said Ribeirac. “Good!” said the duke; “and there is Bussy, my brave Bussy, who will undertake some of them.” “And us!” cried the rest.