The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, vol 3 | Page 5

de Montespan
only know them from history,--but not one of them was
as worthy as you."

So saying, she asked for her fan, her gloves, and her horses, and
attended by her grooms-in-waiting, she went to the King in person.
The King listened to her from beginning to end, and then remarked,
"You refused the Kings of Denmark, Portugal, Spain, and England, and
you wish to marry my captain of the guard, the Marquis de Lauzun?"
"Yes, Sire, for I place him above all monarchs,--yourself alone
excepted."
"Do you love him immensely?"
"More than I can possibly say; a thousand, a hundred thousand times
more than myself."
"Do you think he is equally devoted to you?"--"That would be
impossible," she tranquilly answered; "but his love for me is delicate,
tender; and such friendship suffices me."
"My cousin, in all that there is self-interest. I entreat you to reflect. The
world, as you know, is a mocking world; you want to excite universal
derision and injure the respect which is due to the place that I fill."
"Ah, Sire, do not wound me! I fling myself at your feet. Have
compassion upon M. de Lauzun, and pity my tears. Do not exercise
your power; let him be the consolation of my life; let me marry him."
The King, no longer able to hide his disgust and impatience, said,
"Cousin, you are now a good forty-four years old; at that age you ought
to be able to take care of yourself. Spare me all your grievances, and do
what pleases you."
On leaving Mademoiselle, he came to my apartment and told me about
all this nonsense. I then informed him of what I had heard by letter the
day before. Lauzun, while still carrying on with the fastest ladies of the
Court and the town, had just wheedled the Princess into making him a
present of twenty millions,--a most extravagant gift.
"This is too much!" exclaimed the King; and he at once caused a letter
to be despatched to Mademoiselle and her lover, telling them that their
intimacy must cease, and that things must go no farther.
But the audacious Lauzun found means to suborn a well-meaning
simpleton of a priest, who married them secretly the very same day.
The King's indignation and resentment may well be imagined. He had
his captain of the guard arrested and sent as a prisoner to Pignerol.
On this occasion, M. de Lauzun complained bitterly of me; he invented
the most absurd tales about me, even saying that he had struck me in

my own apartments, after taunting me to my face with "our old
intimacy."
That is false; he reproached me with nothing, for there was nothing to
reproach. Shortly after the Princess's grand scene, he came and begged
me to intercede on his behalf. I only made a sort of vague promise, and
he knew well enough that, in the great world, a vague promise is the
same as a refusal.
For more than six months I had to stanch the tears and assuage the grief
of Mademoiselle. So tiresome to me did this prove, that she alone well-
nigh sufficed to make me quit the Court.
Such sorrowing and chagrin made her lose the little beauty that still
remained to her; nothing seemed more incongruous and ridiculous than
to hear this elderly grand lady talking perpetually about "her dearest
darling, the prisoner."
At the time I write he is at Pignerol; his bad disposition is forever
getting him into trouble. She sends him lots of money unknown to the
King, who generally knows everything. All this money he squanders or
gambles away, and when funds are low, says, "The old lady will send
us some."

CHAPTER XXXVI
.
Hyde, the Chancellor.--Misfortune Not Always Misfortune.--Prince
Comnenus.--The King at Petit-Bourg.--His Incognito.--Who M. de
Vivonne Really Was.
The castle of Petit-Bourg, of which the King made me a present, is
situate on a height overlooking the Seine, whence one may get the
loveliest of views. So pleasant did I find this charming abode, that I
repaired thither as often as possible, and stayed for five or six days.
One balmy summer night, I sat in my dressing-gown at the central
balcony, watching the stars, as was my wont, asking myself whether I
should not be a thousand times happier if I should pass my life in a
retreat like this, and so have time to contemplate the glorious works of
Nature, and to prepare myself for that separation which sooner or later
awaited me. Reason bade me encourage such thoughts, yet my heart
offered opposition thereto, urging that there was something terrifying in

solitude, most of all here, amid vast fields and meadows, and that, away
from the Court and all my friends, I should grow old, and death would
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