“Of many things.”
“What are they?”
Mazarin’s face, smiling as it was, became clouded.
“Anne,” said he, “you are but a woman and as a woman you may insult men at your ease, knowing that you can do it with impunity. You accuse me of fear; I have not so much as you have, since I do not fly as you do.
Against whom do they cry out? is it against you or against myself? Whom would they hang, yourself or me? Well, I can weather the storm — I, whom, notwithstanding, you tax with fear — not with bravado, that is not my way; but I am firm. Imitate me. Make less hubbub and think more deeply. You cry very loud, you end by doing nothing; you talk of flying — — ”