At that period, Maupeou, the Chancellor, told the King, that if he would dismiss the Duc de Choiseul, the Parliament would submit, as it was the Minister himself who secretly fomented their disobedience,--nor was the charge improbable. But as fools have more sympathy for fools, especially if the acting fool has more cunning than the passive one, it was the Prince of Condé[143] who persuaded the King to determine on removing his Minister. Treachery drew the dagger, but interest had whetted it. The Prince was intimate with Choiseul, but wished to succeed him as Colonel-General of the Swiss,--a view of which a second treachery disappointed him. He was the lover of the Princess of Monaco, who was at law with her husband, and sued for a separation. By the Parliament’s suspension of their functions, her cause could not be heard. The Prince of Condé told the King the Parliament would submit; he told the Parliament the King would relax. They resumed their functions, sat for a day before the double imposture was discovered, gave sentence for the Princess of Monaco; and then the Prince of Condé, detected and disavowed by both sides, was banished to Chantilly; and at last entered into the Cabal of the other Princes of the Blood, and peers, who protested against the violence put on the Parliament. The Duc de Choiseul received many private warnings of his approaching fate; but did not, or affected not to apprehend it. On the contrary, he gave out that he alone could make the peace, to which Spain would consent solely from esteem and consideration of him. He added, that the peace made, he meant to retire. In the midst of this delirium, or rather vaunt, the Duc de la Vrillière, with tears as insincere as Choiseul’s tranquillity, waited on him on the morning of the 24th of December with a written order from the King, commanding him to give up his post of Secretary of State and Postmaster-General, and enjoining him to retire to his seat at Chanteloup in Touraine, till he should hear farther. The Duc de Choiseul demanded if he might not delay till the following Wednesday, that his house might be aired. As La Vrillière hesitated, and seemed unwilling to bear that message, the Duke wrote to the King himself, and obliged the Minister to carry his letter. At night a repeated order came to depart the very next morning. “Ah!” cried Choiseul, “this is the drop that makes the glass run over!” He set out the next day with his wife and her physician. The Duchesse de Grammont followed them on the Wednesday. At Longjumeau, a little way from Paris, several men of quality attached to him met him as he passed, and the Duke, who had behaved with great resolution, melted into tears. The Duchess,[144] all her life a heroine and philosopher, maintained her dignity. She had often wished an end of her husband’s Administration, and once at dinner professed her desire of living retired with him; the Duchesse de Grammont said brutally, “Reste à