I am firmly persuaded that my days are counted, but I do not occupy
my mind with that thought for a moment. I place all in the hands of
Almighty God, and do not give myself any anxiety as to what may come
to me; for it would indeed be great folly in men and women to imagine
that human beings are not equal before God, and that He would do
special things for any of them. I have not, thanks to God, either such
presumption or such pride. I know who I am and I do not deceive myself
in that respect.
I am irritated when I look back and think how ill they speak of the
late king, and how little his Majesty has been regretted by those to
whom he did most good.
The daughter whom he loved best was the tall Princesse de Conti.
She did not stand ill with the Maintenon; who thought it an honour
to herself to pay attentions to the princess, who had always led a
regular life and renounced frivolity. She lived at last in great
devotion, and when they told her that death was near she said: "Dying
is the smallest event of my life."
The king often complained that in his youth he had never been allowed
to mingle with people and converse with them. But that is a matter of
nature, for Monsieur, who was brought up with the king, was always
ready to talk with anybody. The king said, laughing, that Monsieur's
gabble had disgusted him with speech. "Good God!" he used to say,
"must I, in order to please people, talk such paltry and silly
nonsense as my brother?" It is true, however, that Monsieur was more
beloved in Paris than the king on account of his affability. But when
the king wanted to please any one he had the most seductive manners
in the world, and he could win hearts much better than my husband.
Monsieur (and it is the same with my son), was very amiable to
everybody, but he did not distinguish persons sufficiently; he only
showed regard to those who liked the Chevalier de Lorraine and his
other favourites.
After Monsieur's death the king sent to ask me where I wished to
go, whether to a convent in Paris or to Montargis, or elsewhere. I
answered that as I had the honour to belong to the royal family I
could not wish for any other residence than that of the king, and
I wished to go at once to Versailles. That pleased him; he came to
see me; but he rather piqued me by saying that he had not thought I
should wish to stay in the same place with himself. I replied I did
not know who could have made to his Majesty such false reports about
me, and that I had more respect and attachment to him than those who
had accused me falsely. Then the king made every one leave the room
and we had a grand explanation, in which the king reproached me for
hating Mme. de Maintenon. I said it was true that I hated her, but it
was only out of attachment to him, and because of the evil offices
she did me with him; nevertheless, I added, if it would be agreeable
to him that I should be reconciled with her I was ready to be so.
The good lady had not foreseen that, otherwise she would never have
let the king come near me; but he was acting in such good faith that
he continued friendly to me to his last hour. He sent for the old
woman and said to her: "Madame is very willing to be reconciled with
you;" he made us embrace and the affair ended that way. Ever after he
wished her to live on good terms with me; which she did outwardly,
but she played me, underhand, all sorts of tricks. I should not have
minded making a trip to Montargis, but I did not want it to look
like a disgrace,--as if I had done something to deserve being sent
from Court. There was also danger that I should be left there to die
of hunger; I much preferred to be reconciled with the king. As for
retiring to a convent, that was not at all my reckoning--though it was
just what the old woman would have liked to make me do. The château de
Montargis is my dower-house; at Orléans there is no house; Saint-Cloud
is not an appanage, it is private property which Monsieur bought with
his own money. Now my dower is nothing; all that I have to live upon
comes from the king and my son. At the beginning of my widowhood I was
left without a penny till they finally owed me three hundred thousand
francs which was never paid till after the king's death. What would
have become of me, therefore, had I chosen Montargis for my residence?