94 THE GARDENS OF ITALY. 



of her horse and the safety of her saddle, surrounding her with an atmosphere of love and 

 tenderness, and, after long, animated conversations with her, showed himself coldly averse from the 

 proposed marriage. On his return from this expedition he formally asked Mazarin for his 

 niece's hand. Mazarin, who had the interests of France sincerely at heart, was uncom- 

 promising in his refusal ; but the King declared his devotion to Maria herself and his 

 determination that she should be his wife and Queen of France. For her he purchased the 

 famous string of pearls which had belonged to Henrietta Maria, the exiled Queen of England, 

 from which she never parted during her life, and it may be seen to-day on the neck of her 

 descendant, Princess Rospigliosi. 



The Queen and Cardinal were absolutely determined against such a politically undesirable 

 marriage, and Maria and her youngest sister were exiled to a convent at Brouage. She parted 

 from the King with the memorable words that Racine puts into the mouth of Berenice : "Ah, Sire, 

 vous etes roi ; vous pleurez et je pars." From Brouage she kept up a long and ardent corres- 

 pondence with Louis, even after he had been persuaded into a betrothal with the Infanta of Spain, 



That Maria was his truest, purest love is not to be doubted. She had something proud, 

 farouche, and chaste in her nature, which then and always preserved her from any less honourable 

 connection. The King, urged on by public exigency, married the Infanta, and Maria suffered 

 terribly from disappointed love and from the mortification of her position. She listened now 

 to her uncle's wish to arrange a marriage for her, and the young Prince Charles of Lorraine was 

 first thought of. Her enemies persuaded the King, on his return from Spain, that she had 

 already transferred her affections to the Prince, and the unhappy girl was met by him with 

 a cold contempt which aggravated her sorrow. 



The King himself had left his dull, sandy-haired bride on the homeward journey from Spain 

 in order to make a pilgrimage to Brouage, to sleep in that room which Maria had occupied so 

 long, and to weep bitterly through the night over her loss. The Cardinal decided that it was too 

 dangerous to let her remain in France, and a marriage was speedily arranged with the young 

 and handsome Colonna, who was attracted by the account of her charms and the rich dowry 

 given by her uncle. She had never seen him, but all fates seeming alike, she allowed herself 

 to be married by proxy, and set out for Milan to meet him. Before departing, however, she had 

 a violent and agitating interview with the King, in which they poured out all their hearts, and 

 Louis endeavoured to persuade her to throw aside all claims and to remain with him ; but the 

 woman who had hoped to be his wife and Queen refused to accept such widely differing terms. 

 Thereupon she left Paris, taking with her his promise of life-long protection, and thus was 

 closed the first act of Maria Mancini's stormy life. 



The second opens on her arrival at Palazzo Colonna. She had been attacked during her 

 journey by brain fever, and had lain ill for some time at Loreto, and as she recovered she was 

 brought by easy stages to her new home by the husband who had met her at Milan. The great 

 reception prepared had had to be abandoned, but all the household was drawn up to welcome 

 her. She confesses that her first feeling at sight of the palace was one of disappointment, the 

 courtyard not being particularly imposing. When, however, she passed into those spacious 

 halls, so splendidly decorated by Pintoricchio, the Carracci and Guido Reni, cooled with fountains 

 and hung with fine pictures, she was much struck, and, in spite of her weakness, was filled with 

 admiration. She was so tired that she had to go at once to bed, but she sent to the Constable 

 to beg him to share her meal ; so he dined by her bedside, and she seemed more kindly 

 disposed to him than she had yet shown herself to be. 



As her health reasserted itself she received the visits of all the great Roman ladies. Her 

 husband allowed her to live with the freedom of French society, much to the vexation of other 

 Roman husbands, whose wives were accustomed to lead lives of almost cloistered seclusion. Prince 

 Colonna surrounded her with care and attentions, and she has left a charming picture of their 

 amusements. One hot evening he asked her to walk to see a lake. As they turned a corner, 

 they found themselves in Piazza Navona, illuminated, flooded, and its mimic waters covered with 

 gay boats, their flags flying and musicians on board. A larger bark with a bower of flowers and 

 lights, awaited the princess ; a concert, fireworks and waterworks were thus thoughtfully organ- 

 ised to remind her of the gay fetes she had left behind at Fontainebleau. 



