"Is your majesty come to make any stay at Vincennes ?" said he.
Louis made an affirmative sign with his head.
"That is a gracious favor," continued Mazarin, "granted to a dying man, and which will render death less painful to him." "I hope," replied the king, "I am come to visit, not a dying man, but a sick man, susceptible of cure." Mazarin replied by a movement of the head.
"Your majesty is very kind; but I know more than you on that subject.
The last visit, sire," said he, "the last visit." "If it were so, monsieur le cardinal," said Louis, "I would come a last time to ask the counsels of a guide to whom I owe everything." Anne of Austria was a woman; she could not restrain her tears.

Louis showed himself much affected, and Mazarin still more than his two guests, but from very different motives.

Here the silence returned.

The queen wiped her eyes, and the king resumed his firmness.
"I was saying," continued the king, "that I owed much to your eminence." The eyes of the cardinal had devoured the king, for he felt the great moment had come.

"And," continued Louis, "the principal object of my visit was to offer you very sincere thanks for the last evidence of friendship you have kindly sent me." The cheeks of the cardinal became sunken, his lips partially opened, and the most lamentable sigh he had ever uttered was about to issue from his chest.
"Sire," said he, "I shall have despoiled my poor family; I shall have ruined all who belong to me, which may be imputed to me as an error; but, at least, it shall not be said of me that I have refused to sacrifice everything to my king." Anne of Austria's tears flowed afresh.
"My dear Monsieur Mazarin," said the king, in a more serious tone than might have been expected from his youth, "you have misunderstood me, apparently." Mazarin raised himself upon his elbow.
"I have no purpose to despoil your dear family, nor to ruin your servants.