“My lord, it is not given to mankind to enjoy prosperity for ever:  there are misfortunes beyond all human foresight.  You were once rich and powerful, and you are now a fugitive in disguise, begging the help of others.  You must reserve your strength for better days.  I still have a considerable fortune, and also have relations and friends whose wealth is at my disposal:  let us try to make our way to the queen, and at once decide what we can do.  I myself shall always defend you and obey you as my lord and master.”

The prince received these generous offers with the utmost gratitude, and told his counsellor that he placed his person in his hands and all that remained of his future.  Acciajuoli, not content with serving his master as a devoted servant, persuaded his brother Angelo, Archbishop of Florence, who was in great favour at Clement VI’s court, to join with them in persuading the pope to interest himself in the cause of Louis of Tarentum.  So, without further delay, the prince, his counsellor, and the good prelate made their way to the port of Marseilles, but learning that the queen was a prisoner at Aix, they embarked at Acque-Morte, and went straight to Avignon.  It soon appeared that the pope had a real affection and esteem for the character of the Archbishop of Florence, for Louis was received with paternal kindness at the court of Avignon; which was far more than he had expected:  when he kneeled before the sovereign pontiff, His Holiness bent affectionately towards him and helped him to rise, saluting him by the title of king.

Two days later, another prelate, the Archbishop of Aix, came into the queen’s presence,—­

“Most gracious and dearly beloved sovereign, permit the most humble and devoted of your servants to ask pardon, in the name of your subjects, for the painful but necessary measure they have thought fit to take concerning your Majesty.  When you arrived on our coast, your loyal town of Aix had learned from a trustworthy source that the King of France was proposing to give our country to one of his own sons, making good this loss to you by the cession of another domain, also that the Duke of Normandy had come to Avignon to request this exchange in person.  We were quite decided, madam, and had made a vow to God that we would give up everything rather than suffer the hateful tyranny of the French.  But before spilling blood we thought it best to secure your august person as a sacred hostage, a sacred ark which no man dared touch but was smitten to the ground, which indeed must keep away from our walls the scourge of war.  We have now read the formal annulment of this hateful plan, in a brief sent by the sovereign pontiff from Avignon; and in this brief he himself guarantees your good faith.

“We give you your full and entire liberty, and henceforth we shall only endeavour to keep you among us by prayers and protestations.  Go then, madam, if that is your pleasure, but before you leave these lands, which will be plunged into mourning by your withdrawal, leave with us some hope that you forgive the apparent violence to which we have subjected you, only in the fear that we might lose you; and remember that on the day when you cease to be our queen you sign the death-warrant of all your subjects.”