“Two of them, after having played the devil to perfection, now come to torment my poor curious gull, with long bags of cloth full of sand; with these they so belabour him all over his body, that I am at last obliged to drag him out of the cavern half dead. Then, when he has come to himself a little, I tell him that it is a most perilous thing to wish to see the devil, and I beg that he will never indulge it in future; and I assure you that no one ever does after having been so double damnably beaten.” The year after the foul fiend had fetched away Cesar and Ruggieri, the Bastile was tenanted by an occupant of high rank—Henry, prince of Condé, the second who bore that Christian name. Condé was born in 1588, and, till the birth of a dauphin, was presumptive heir to the throne of France. The prince was well educated, witty and pleasant in conversation, spoke several languages, and was better acquainted with literature and the sciences than most contemporary men of high birth; but his person was not attractive. It was probably the latter circumstance which induced Henry the fourth to unite him to Henrietta de Montmorenci, the loveliest and richest female of that time. Her inclinations leaned towards the handsome, gallant, and accomplished Bassompierre; but Henry, who was smitten with an extravagant passion for her, seems to have thought that he could more easily seduce her if she were the wife of Condé. He was mistaken. The prince, on whose “liking the chase a hundred thousand times better than he liked women” Henry had rather erroneously calculated, was not disposed to be dishonoured, even by a king who was his uncle. Henry, previous to the marriage, had, indeed, pledged his word that, on his account, the prince need have no fears; but Henry was not a man to be trusted in such cases. The nuptial knot was scarcely tied before the conduct of the monarch became such as to awake, and justify, all the jealous fears of the husband; who was further aggrieved by being compelled to endure the contempt and insolence of Sully. To avoid the danger which hung over him, his sole resource was to fly the country with his wife; and he accordingly contrived to make his escape, and to obtain an asylum in the court of the archduke Albert, at Brussels.