The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, vol 7 | Page 8

no longer the spouse of the
prince, I frequently retired from this sight, so repugnant to me, and
went and passed entire weeks at Paris, where the works on my large
hotel, that had been suspended for divers reasons, were being resumed.
A debutante, as beautiful as she was clever, was drawing the entire
capital to the Comedie Francaise. She obtained especial applause in the
difficult part of Phedre. My friends spoke marvels of it, and wished to
take me there with them. Their box was engaged. We arrived as the
curtain was going up. As I took my seat I noticed a certain stir in the
orchestra and pit. The majority of glances were directed at my box, in
which my apparition had attracted curiosity. I carried my fan to my face,
under the pretext of the excessive glow of the lights. Immediately
several voices were to be heard: "Take away the fan, if you please."
The young and foolish applauded this audacity; but all the better part
disapproved.
The actress mentioned came on the scene and brought the incident to an
end. Although deeply moved by what had occurred, I paid great
attention to the magnificent part of Phedre, which often excited my
admiration and profound pity. At some passages, which every one
knows by heart, two or three insolent persons abandoned themselves to
a petty war of allusions, and accenting these aggressive phrases with
their applause, succeeded in directing general attention to me. Officers
of the service noticed this beginning of disorder, and probably were

concerned at my embarrassment. Some Gardes Francais were called
within the barrier of the parterre in order to restrain the disturbers.
Suddenly a very lively quarrel broke out in the centre. Two young men
with great excitement had come to blows, and soon we saw them sally
forth with the openly expressed intention of settling their quarrel on the
field.
Was it my name, or a contest as to the talent of the actress, which
caused this commotion? My nephew, De Mortemart, was concerned for
me, and the Comte de Marcilly assured us that all these wrangles were
solely with regard to the wife of Theseus.
Between the two pieces our company learnt that a gentleman from the
provinces had insulted my name, and a body-guard, out of uniform, had
taken this insult for himself; they had gone out to have an explanation.
The following day a religious minim of the House of Chaillot came to
inform me of the state of affairs. The Baron de Monclar, of the body-
guards of the King, had taken sanctuary in their monastery, after having
killed, in lawful duel, beneath the outer walls of the Bois du Boulogne,
the imprudent young man who, the night before, at the play, had
exposed me to the censure of the public. M. de Monclar was quite
prepared for the inflexible severity of the King, as well as for the
uselessness of my efforts. He only begged me to procure him a disguise
of a common sort, so that he might immediately embark from the
neighbourhood of Gainville or Bordeaux, and make for England or
Spain; every moment was precious.
The sad position in which M. de Monclar had put himself in my behalf
filled me with sorrow. I gave a long sigh, and dried my first tears. I
racked my sick and agitated head for the reply I ought to make to the
good monk, and, to my great astonishment, my mind, ordinarily so
prompt and active, suggested and offered me no suitable plan. This
indecision, perhaps, rendered the worthy ambassador impatient and
humiliated me; when, to end it, I made up my mind to request that M.
de Monclar be secretly transferred from the House of Chaillot to my
dwelling, where I should have time and all possible facilities to take
concert with him as to the best means of action.
Suddenly raising my eyes to the monk of Chaillot, I surprised in his a
ferocious look of expectation. This horrible discovery unnerved me,-- I
gave a cry of terror; all my lackeys rushed in. I ordered the traitor to be

seized and precipitated from the height of my balcony into the gardens.
His arms were already bound ruthlessly, and my people were lifting
him to throw him down, when he eluded their grasp, threw himself at
my feet, and confessed that his disguise was assumed with the intent to
discover the sanctuary of the Baron de Monclar, the assassin of his
beloved brother. "It is asserted, madame," added this man, rising, "that
the Baron is confided to the Minim Fathers of Chaillot. I imagined that
you were informed of it, and that by this means my family would
succeed in reaching him."
"If he has killed the nobody