The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, vol 4 | Page 4

may wish to sample the author's ideas before making
an entire meal of them. D.W.]

MEMOIRS OF MADAME LA MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN, v4
Written by Herself

Being the Historic Memoirs of the Court of Louis XIV.

BOOK 4.

CHAPTER XLIX
.
President de Nesmond.--Melladoro.--A Complacent Husband and His
Love-sick Wife.--Tragic Sequel.
President de Nesmond--upright, clear-headed magistrate as he
was--was of very great service to me at the Courts of Justice. He
always managed to oblige me and look after my interests and my rights
in any legal dispute of mine, or when I had reason to fear annoyance on
the part of my husband.
I will here relate the grief that his young wife caused him, and it will be
seen that, by the side of this poor President, M. de Montespan might
count himself lucky. Having long been a widower, he was in some
measure accustomed to this state, until love laid a snare for him just at
the age of sixty-five.
In the garden that lay below his windows--a garden owned by his
neighbour, a farmer--he saw Clorinde. She was this yeoman's only
daughter. He at once fell passionately in love with her, as David once
loved Bathsheba.
The President married Clorinde, who was very pleased to have a fine
name and a title. But her husband soon saw--if not with surprise, at
least with pain--that his wife did not love him. A young and handsome
Spaniard, belonging to the Spanish Legation, danced one day with
Clorinde; to her he seemed as radiant as the god of melody and song.
She lost her heart, and without further delay confessed to him this loss.
On returning home, the President said to his youthful consort,
"Madame, every one is noticing and censuring your imprudent conduct;
even the young Spaniard himself finds it compromising."
"Nothing you say can please me more," she replied, "for this proves
that he is aware of my love. As he knows this, and finds my looks to his
liking, I hope that he will wish to see me again."
Soon afterwards there was a grand ball given at the Spanish Embassy.
Madame de Nesmond managed to secure an invitation, and went with
one of her cousins. The young Spaniard did the honours of the evening,
and showed them every attention.

As the President was obliged to attend an all-night sitting at the
Tourelle,--[The parliamentary criminal court.]-- and as these young
ladies did not like going home alone,--for their residence was some
way off,--the young Spaniard had the privilege of conducting them to
their coach and of driving back with them. After cards and a little
music, they had supper about daybreak; and when the President
returned, at five o'clock, he saw Melladoro, to whom he was formally
introduced by madame.
The President's welcome was a blend of surprise, anger, forced
condescension, and diplomatic politeness. All these shades of feeling
were easily perceived by the Spaniard, who showed not a trace of
astonishment. This was because Clorinde's absolute sway over her
husband was as patent as the fact that, in his own house, the President
was powerless to do as he liked.
Melladoro, who was only twenty years old, thought he had made a
charming conquest. He asked to be allowed to present his respects
occasionally, when Clorinde promptly invited him to do so, in her
husband's name as well as in her own.
It was now morning, and he took leave of the ladies. Two days after
this he reappeared; then he came five or six times a week, until at last it
was settled that a place should be laid for him every day at the
President's table.
That year it was M. de Nesmond's turn to preside at the courts during
vacation-time. He pleaded urgent motives of health, which made it
imperative for him to have country air and complete rest. Another
judge consented to forego his vacation and take his place on the bench
for four months; so M. de Nesmond was able to leave Paris.
When the time came to set out by coach, madame went off into violent
hysterics; but the magistrate, backed up by his father-in-law, showed
firmness, and they set out for the Chateau de Nesmond, about thirty
leagues from Paris.
M. de Nesmond found the country far from enjoyable. His wife, who
always sat by herself in her dressing-gown and seldom consented to see
a soul, on more than one occasion left her guests at table in order to
sulk and mope in her closet.
She fell ill. During her periods of suffering and depression, she
continually mentioned the Spaniard's name. Failing his person, she

desired to have his portrait. Alarmed at his wife's condition, the
President agreed to write a letter himself to the author of all this