The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, vol 7 | Page 7

in any such manoeuvres; all your subjects love
and admire you, whatever be their faith and communion."
"Petitot, you are an admirable painter and a most worthy man. Do not
answer me, I beg you. If I believed you had as much genius and
aptitude for great affairs as for the wonders of the brush, I would make
you a Counsellor of State on the instant, and a half-hour spent with me
and my documents and papers of importance would be sufficient to
make you believe and think as I do touching what has been discussed
between us. Madame de Montespan, in great alarm, has told me that
you wished to leave me. You leave me, my good friend! Where will
you find a sky so pure and soft as the sky of France? Where will you
find a King more tenderly attached to men of merit, more particularly,
to my dear and illustrious Petitot?"
At these words, pronounced with emotion, the artist felt the tears come
into his eyes. He bent one knee to the ground, respectfully kissed the
hand of the monarch, and promised to complete his portrait
immediately.
He kept his word to us. The King's miniature and my four portraits
were finished without hesitation or postponement; and Petitot also
consented to copy, for his Majesty, a superb Christine of Sweden, a
full-length picture, painted by Le Bourdon. But at the final revocation
of the Edict of Nantes, he thought his conscience, or rather his vanity,
compromised, and quitted France, although the King offered to allow
him a chaplain of his communion, and a dispensation from all the oaths,

to Petitot himself, to Boyer, his brother-in-law, and the chaplain whom
they had retained with them.

CHAPTER XXXIV
.
Lovers' Vows.--The Body-guards.--Racine's Phedre.--The
Pit.--Allusions.-- The Duel.--M. de Monclar.--The Cowled Spy.--He
Escapes with a Fright.-- M. de Monclar in Jersey.--Gratitude of the
Marquise.--Happy Memory.
Lovers, in the effervescence of their passion, exaggerate to themselves
the strength and intensity of their sentiments. The momentary, pleasure
that this agreeable weakness causes them to feel, brings them, in spite
of themselves, to promise a long duration of it, so that they swear
eternal fidelity, a constancy, proof against all, two days after that one
which shone on their most recent infidelity. I had seen the King neglect
and abandon the amiable La Valliere, and I listened to him none the
less credulously and confidently when he said to me: "Athenais, we
have been created for each other: if Heaven were suddenly to deprive
me of the Queen, I would have your marriage dissolved, and, before the
altar and the world, join your destiny, to mine."
Full of these fantastic ideas, in which my, hope and desire and credulity
were centred, I had accepted those body-guards of state who never left
my carriage. The poor Queen had murmured: I had disdained her
murmurs. The public had manifested its disapproval: I had hardened
myself and fought against the insolent opinion of that public. I could
not renounce my chimera of royalty, based on innumerable
probabilities, and I used my guards in anticipation, and as a
preliminary.
One of them, one day, almost lost his life in following my carriage,
which went along like a whirlwind. His horse fell on the high road to
Versailles; his thigh was broken, and his body horribly bruised. I
descended from my carriage to see after him. I confided him, with the
most impressive recommendations, to the physician or surgeon of
Viroflai, who lavished on him his attentions, his skill and zeal, and who
sent him back quite sound after a whole month of affectionate care.
The young Baron de Monclar (such was the name of this guard)

thought himself happy in having merited my favour by this accident,
and he remained sincerely and finally attached to me.
At the time of the temporary triumph of Mademoiselle de Fontanges,
the spell which was over my eyes was dissipated. The illusions of my
youth were lost, and I saw, at last, the real distance which divided me
from the steps of the throne. The health of a still youthful Queen
seemed to me as firm and unalterable then as it appeared to me weak
and uncertain before. The inconstancy of the monarch warned me of
what might be still in store for me, and I resolved to withdraw myself,
voluntarily and with prudence, within the just limits of my power.
M. le Prince de Luxembourg was one of my friends, and in command; I
begged him to send me his guards no longer, but to reserve them for the
reigning divinity, who had already more than once obtained them.
In these latter days, that is to say, since the eminent favour of the lady
in waiting, having become the friend, and