When the king ceased, there were one or two amongst the group of nobles who looked as if they would fain have added something to the speech of their orator; and it was evident the noble and dignified manner in which Henry treated their absurd proposal was not without effect upon any. Like all other bodies of men, however, there were those amongst them destined to lead, and those only fitted to follow; and the latter did not venture to act without the approbation of the former. Bowing in silence then, the whole party retired, and were immediately succeeded by the Baron de Rosny, afterwards famous as the Duke of Sully, who approached with the Marechal d'Aumont. The latter at once, and with graceful zeal in words and manner, tendered his faith and homage to the king, and assured him that the officers under his command would present themselves within an hour to swear allegiance to their new monarch. He again was succeeded by another, in whom St. Real instantly recognised the Duke d'Epernon, though he had changed his garb within the last hour, and now appeared in deep mourning. The keen eye of Henry IV. at once read his purpose in the countenance of the Duke; and, preventing him from kneeling, he said, "Pause, my cousin, and think what you are about to do. We will excuse your bending the knee to-day, if it be not to be bent tomorrow." Though fantastic, and even effeminate in appearance, D'Epernon was brave even to rashness, and by no means destitute of that calm and dignified presence of mind which approaches near to greatness. Gravely taking half a step back, he persisted in bending his knee, and kissed the king's hand, replying, "My lord the king! your majesty's right to the throne of France and to the homage of your subjects is incontestable; and deeply do I regret that any circumstances, religious or political, should lessen that zeal which the nobles of France are so willing to display in behalf of their kings. But, to avoid all subjects which it would be painful for your majesty to hear and for me to speak, I come to crave leave to retire for a time to my own lands, which have much need of their lord's presence. I am weary of warfare, sire, somewhat anxious for repose, and my poor peasantry require protection and assistance." "Well, cousin of Epernon," replied the monarch, "if you be really disposed to imitate the great Roman and hold the plough, my service shall not detain you; but let me trust that you are not about to reverse the scriptural prophecy, and turn the ploughshare into a sword in favour of new friends." "I need no sword, sire," replied the duke, "but that which I lately proved beside your majesty at Tours; and be assured that if it be not drawn in your service, it shall not be unsheathed against you." "Well, well!" said the king, with a sigh, "so be it, if it must be so. Fare you well, fair cousin of Epernon! and may the harvest you are going to reap have fewer thorns than that which is before me, I fear!"