The King, in a frenzy, was for striking me with his feet; had not the Queen, my Sisters, and the rest, run between, and those who were present prevented him.

They all ranked themselves round me, which gave Mesdames de Kamecke and Sonsfeld time to pick me up.

They put me in a chair in the embrasure of a window; threw water on my face to bring me to life: which care I lamentably reproached them with, death being a thousand times better, in the pass things had come to.

The Queen kept shrieking, her firmness had quite left her: she wrung her hands, and ran in despair up and down the room.

The King's face was so disfigured with rage, it was frightful to look upon.