The grave physician is succeeded by a very different personage; a courtier of high birth, handsome, accomplished, full of gallantry in both senses of the word, witty, and with his natural talents improved by early study. Francis de Bassompierre, who was all this, was born in Lorraine, in 1579, and was descended from the princely house of Cleves. On returning from his travels, he visited the court of Henry IV., and soon acquired the friendship of that sovereign. Among a crowd of courtiers, each vying with the other in splendour and extravagance, he was one of the foremost. At the baptism of the king’s children, he wore a dress of cloth of gold, covered with pearls, the cost of which was nine hundred pounds. Gaming, thanks to the bad example set by Henry, was scandalously prevalent; and here, too, Bassompierre was prominent. He tells us, in his memoirs, that not a day passed, while he was at Fontainebleau, in which twenty thousand pistoles were not won and lost, and that he was a winner of half a million of livres within twelve months. Desirous of adding the reputation of a soldier to his other pretensions, he served a campaign in Savoy, in 1602, and in Hungary the following year. Having established his military character, he resumed his station at the French court. The greatest part of the business of his life seems now, and for many years, to have been amorous intrigues—to apply the word love to them would be a profanation of it. However eager he might be to swell the number of his conquests, there is the best reason for believing, that those whom he attacked were willing enough to be overcome. It at once proves his attractions, and speaks volumes as to the low state of morals among the females at that period, that when, at a later date, Bassompierre was about to be imprisoned, he burnt more than six thousand letters, which contained the proofs of his amatory success. One of the most notorious of his amours was that in which he involved himself with Mdlle. Entragues, sister of the king’s mistress, the marchioness of Verneuil. By this lady he had a son. She is said to have obtained from him a promise of marriage, and for several years she sought to enforce the performance of it, and persisted in bearing his name. Meeting him one day at the Louvre, she told him publicly that he ought to cause the customary honours to be paid to her there, as his wife. “Why,” said he, “will you take a _nom de guerre_?” “You are the greatest fool in all the court!” exclaimed the enraged lady. “What would you have said to me, then, if I had married you?” retorted the provoking Bassompierre.