When I first came to France I saw here many persons such as one may
not find again in centuries. There was Lulli, for music; Beauchamp,
for ballets; Corneille and Racine, for tragedy; Molière, for comedy;
la Chamelle and Beauval, actresses; Baron, Lafleur, Torilière, and
Guérin, actors. All these persons excelled in their vocations. La
Duclos and la Raisin were equally good; the latter had a great deal
of charm. Her husband was also excellent in comic parts. There was
likewise a good harlequin and a capital scaramouch. There were good
singers at the opera, Clédière, Pomerueil, Godenarche, Duménil, la
Rochechouard, Mauvry, la Saint-Christophe, la Brigogne, la Beaucreux.
All that one sees and hears now does not come up to such talents.
Everything goes to beat of drum between my son and his mistresses,
without the least gallantry. It reminds me of the old patriarchs who
had so many women. My son has a good deal of King David about him; he
has courage and spirit, he is a good musician, he is small, brave,
and ready to love any woman; he is not particular in that respect;
provided they are good-humoured, very shameless, and can eat and drink
a great deal, he does not mind about their faces.
The Duc du Maine and his party have let his sister [the Duchesse
d'Orléans] know that if my son dies she will be made regent, and they
have promised her they would then act in all things by her will, and
she would be the greatest figure that there was in the world. They
told her they meant no harm to my son, but that he could not live
long, his life was so disorderly; that he must die soon, or else
become blind, in which case he would consent to her exercising the
regency. I heard all this from a person to whom the Duc du Maine
himself told it; and when one knows it one is not surprised that Mme.
d'Orléans wanted to force her daughter to marry the Duc du Maine's son.