[Illustration: MONUMENT OF CARDINAL D'AMBOISE, IN ROUEN CATHEDRAL By permission of Messrs. Neurdein] As you move on into the choir, you will pass over some small lozenge-shaped pieces of marble, marking the spot where rested once the lion heart of Richard, and the body of his brother Henry. Here they found the former in a greenish taffeta bag inclosed in a case of lead,--it is now in the Museum. The gorgeous monument of George, Cardinal of Amboise and Louis de Brézé will hold the attention in one of the chapels,--both stately affairs. Brézé was the husband of Diane de Poitiers, who is here represented clothed in deep mourning and shedding many tears. An inscription upon the tomb states that she was faithful in life and will be with him in death. Doubtless Francis I. or Henry II. helped her erect the monument and compose the epitaph. As for her sepulchre, it was built in her Château of Anet and there she was buried. As for her faithfulness to her husband, those two kings, father and son, can testify better than we can. One wonders why the furies of the Revolution did not pull that tomb to bits,--for even in our day, a complacent husband is not a pleasant object. As one wanders out into the quiet streets of the old town, one wonders much as to whether things in those days were after all very different from things in our own time. Certainly those husbands did not think it worth while to kill themselves. [Illustration: THE TOMB OF LOUIS DE BRÉZÉ IN THE CATHEDRAL OF ROUEN From a photograph] In the Church of St. Ouen, Rouen possesses another cathedral, beautiful in every line, but part is new and much restored, and, while the architect will be charmed with it, the artist and historian will find much greater pleasure in the Cathedral. So I wander in and out of it, and off into the winding streets of the old town, where a tide of life flows on making them cheery, cheerful places where even the ancient houses, with their weight of years, smile downward upon the passing throng like the "old, old, old, old lady at the boy just half-past three." The great clock in its ancient gate-house tower has something to say to me as I pass it by, as it has had something to say to kings and princes, to black-cowled monks and purple-robed bishops, to the Maid in her forbidden armour, to the child Queen of Scots when she slept in this ancient city,--perhaps to Charlotte Corday. "Time hath wings; how, O mortal, hast thou spent thine?" [Illustration: THE GREAT CLOCK OF ROUEN By permission of Messrs. Neurdein] Hearing its bell, you are reminded of that fragment in the Museum, once a part of the great bell of George of Amboise, which was melted by the Terrorists into sou pieces, bearing the inscription "Monument of Vanity, destroyed for utility, in the second year of the equality." Passing onward the traveller comes to the Church of St. Gervais--the oldest in Rouen and in the priory of which William the Conqueror died.