The interior glory has, however, vanished for the most part, but the Throne Hall, was reputedly ablaze with mirrors from France, the nation which "was mainly responsible for such imported amenities of life as existed in Siam at the end of the 17th century," in the words of one historian.

If Narai and Phaulkon were the principal actors on the Lopburi stage, it was the French who provided the drama's leitmotif. In his perception of European influence in the region, the Thai monarch saw the Dutch as a potential threat, perhaps harbouring thoughts of colonization. Accordingly he and his advisor, Phaulkon, considered it good politics to counter such a danger by encouraging other foreign powers and thus balancing European interests.

At first Phaulkon, as the King's chief minister, turned to his old employers, the British East India Company, but they, through a mix of vacillation and ineptitude, lost the initiative. This left the French. They were late arrivals on the scene, coming more than a century after the Portuguese and a good half century latter than the Dutch, English and Danes. Under their glorious 'Sun King', Louis XIV, they were nonetheless the dominant nation in Europe.

In spite of no the commercial establishment to match that of the Dutch and the English, the French were building up influence in Siam through the presence of Jesuit missionaries. These were befriended by Phaulkon, himself a Catholic convert following his marriage to a lady of Japanese and Portuguese extract.

In favouring the French, Phaulkon was initially simply pursuing earlier policies as, in 1680, Narai had sent a first Siamese mission to Paris, though it never arrived and was presumably lost at sea. He then urged the dispatch of a second embassy in 1685 and this prompted the French to return the compliment and send out their own ambassador, Chevalier de Chaumont. He arrived in Thailand in September 1685.

When Narai received de Chaumont in October a curious scene took place. The Frenchman had a letter for the Siamese monarch from Louis XIV, but he refused to present it in customary style by kneeling. A compromise was reached; Narai appeared on a small balcony, de Chaumont stood holding the letter on a plate. However, he failed to hold it high enough for the king to reach, despite promptings from the prostrate Phaulkon. To avoid an embarrassing confrontation with Gallic pride, Narai reached down for the letter. The wonderful scene was captured in a contemporary engraving, and from this a Fine Arts Department artist has made a painting which is displayed in the Lopburi Museum.

De Chaumont returned to France in 1686, accompanied by a third Siamese mission to the Court of Louis XIV, while a second French diplomatic group was sent to Thailand in the following year. Franco-Thai negotiations involved, in grossly simplified terms, military aid for the Siamese -- as defence against the Dutch -- and trade concessions for France.

The French, however, were also motivated by an absurd desire to convert Narai to Catholicism. Phaulkon was eventually condemned for abetting them in this totally unrealistic aim. True, he championed their interests, though arguably only for political expediency as he would have known better than any other foreigner that Buddhism was not just a matter of personal faith, it was a unifying thread running through the very fabric of Siamese nationhood.

Nevertheless, Phaulkon, perhaps over-confident, attempted to walk an impossible diplomatic tightrope, and he fell. On his rise to power he had made numerous enemies, partly through his arrogance and partly through other's envy of his wealth and position. Bitterest of his foes were General Phetracha and his son Luang Surasak.

In 1688 Narai was dying at Lopburi; Phetracha, seeing his opportunity, led a palace revolt, murdered the King's possible successors and took virtual control of the nation despite Narai still lingering on his death bed.

Called to the palace at Lopburi, Phaulkon was captured by the rebels as he entered the gate. He was imprisoned and tortured for several days before being taken out to a quiet spot and beheaded in a squalid nighttime execution. He met his end bravely, denying to his last breath that he had betrayed his king.

The French were next unceremoniously expelled from the country, and Phetracha became king on the death of Narai a few weeks after Phaulkon's execution. The great 17th century drama was over and the stage of Lopburi closed as the new monarch returned the power centre to Ayutthaya -- and effectively plunged Siam into isolation that would last for the next century and a half.

France had failed in her 17th century attempt at political and commercial links with Thailand, but she had a lasting impact in other respects. Lopburi was left with an indelible Gallic stamp.

Firstly there are the ruins of Narai's palace which was partially designed by French architects and, even in what remains today, displays an original style.

Not far away is Phaulkon's house, also known as the 'Ambassadors' Residence' as French delegates stayed there. It again shows a strong European influence in design. Only the exterior walls have survived, but the architectural borrowings are clear.

Between these two important 17th century ruins is Wat Sao Tong Thong. Its viharn was used in Narai's time as a Christian chapel and once more the stylistic departures of the period are noticeable.

French influences are further echoed in the Lopburi Museum, formerly Narai's throne hall, where there are exhibits of furniture and silver church objects that were either imported from Europe or locally copied.

Moreover the depiction of Frenchmen (along with other farangs) became an exotic motif in Thai decorative art, most especially in many superb gilt-on-lacquer panels adorning traditional Thai cabinets. In such pieces you see the clothes and accoutrements of those who came to Siam in the late 17th century, a period to which Lopburi remains a lasting and intriguing monument.