Keep in mind these maxims rare,
You who hope to win the fair;
Who are, or would esteemed be,
The quintessence of gallantry.
That fopp'ry, grinning, and grimace,
And fertile store of common-place;
That oaths as false as dicers swear,
And Wry teeth, and scented hair;
That trinkets, and the pride of dress,
Can only give your scheme success.
Keep in mind.
Has thy charmer e'er an aunt?
Then learn the rules of woman's cant,
And forge a tale, and swear you read it,
Such as, save woman, none would credit
Win o'er her confidante and pages
By gold, for this a golden age is;
And should it be her wayward fate,
To be encumbered with a mate,
A dull, old dotard should he be,
That dulness claims thy courtesy.
Keep in mind.
"Truly," said Matta, "the song may say what it pleases, but I cannot put
it in practice: your husband is far too exquisite a monster for me. Why,
what a plaguey odd ceremony do you require of us in this country, if we
cannot pay our compliments to the wife without being in love with the
husband!"
The Marchioness was much offended at this answer; and as she thought she
had done enough in pointing out to him the path which would conduct him
to success, if he had deserved it, she did not think it worth while to
enter into any farther explanation; since he refused to cede, for her
salve, so trilling an objection: from this instant she resolved to have
done with him.
The Chevalier de Grammont had taken leave of his mistress nearly at the
same time: the ardour of his pursuit was extinguished. It was not that
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain was less worthy than hitherto of his
attentions: on the contrary her attractions visibly increased: she
retired to her pillow with a thousand charms, and ever rose from it with
additional beauty the phrase of increasing in beauty as she increased in
years seemed to have been purposely made for her. The Chevalier could
not deny these truths, but yet he could not find his account in them: a
little less merit, with a little less discretion, would have been more
agreeable. He perceived that she attended to him with pleasure, that
she was diverted with his stories as much as he could wish, and that
she received his billets and presents without scruple; but then he
also discovered that she did not wish to proceed any farther. He had
exhausted every species of address upon her, and all to no purpose: her
attendant was gained: her family, charmed with the music of his
conversation and his great attention, were never happy without him: in
short, he had reduced to practice the advice contained in the
Marchioness's song, and everything conspired to deliver the little Saint
Germain into his hands, if the little Saint Germain had herself been
willing: but alas! she was not inclined. It was in vain he told her the
favour he desired would cost her nothing; and that since these treasures
were rarely comprised in the fortune a lady brings with her in marriage,
she would never find any person, who, by unremitting tenderness,
unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy, would prove more worthy of
them than himself. He then told her no husband was ever able to convey
a proper idea of the sweets of love, and that nothing could be more
different than the passionate fondness of a lover, always tender, always
affectionate, yet always respectful, and the careless indifference of a
husband.
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, not wishing to take the matter in a
serious light, that she might not be forced to resent it, answered, that
since it was generally the custom in her country to marry, she thought it
was right to conform to it, without entering into the knowledge of those
distinctions, and those marvellous particulars, which she did not very
well understand, and of which she did not wish to have any further
explanation; that she had submitted to listen to him this one time, but
desired he would never speak to her again in the same strain, since such
sort of conversation was neither entertaining to her, nor could be
serviceable to him. Though no one was ever more facetious than
Mademoiselle de Saint Germain, she yet knew how to assume a very serious
air, when ever occasion required it. The Chevalier de Grammont soon saw
that she was in earnest; and finding it would cost him a great deal of
time to effect a change in her sentiments, he was so far cooled in this
pursuit, that he only made use of it to hide the designs he had upon the
Marchioness de Senantes.
He found this lady much disgusted at Matta's want of complaisance; and
his seeming contempt for her erased every favourable impression which
she had once entertained for him. While she was in this humour, the
Chevalier told her that her resentment was just; he exaggerated the loss
which his friend had sustained; he told her that her charms were a
thousand times superior to those of the little Saint Germain, and
requested that favour for himself which his friend did not deserve. He
was soon favourably heard upon this topic; and as soon as they were
agreed, they consulted upon two measures necessary to be taken, the one
to deceive her husband, the other his friend, which was not very
difficult: Matta was not at all suspicious: and the stupid Senantes,
towards whom the Chevalier had already behaved as Matta had refused to
do, could not be easy without him. This was much more than was wanted;
for as soon as ever the Chevalier was with the Marchioness, her husband
immediately joined them out of politeness; and on no account would have
left them alone together, for fear they should grow weary of each other
without him.
Matta, who all this time was entirely ignorant that he was disgraced,
continued to serve his mistress in his own way. She had agreed with the
Chevalier de Grammont, that to all appearance everything should be
carried on as before; so that the court always believed that the
Marchioness only thought of Matta, and that the Chevalier was entirely
devoted to Mademoiselle de Saint Germain.
There were very frequently little lotteries for trinkets: the Chevalier
de Grammont always tried his fortune, and was sometimes fortunate; and
under pretence of the prizes he had won, he bought a thousand things
which he indiscreetly gave to the Marchioness, and which she still more
indiscreetly accepted: the little Saint Germain very seldom received any
thing. There are meddling whisperers everywhere: remarks were made upon
these proceedings; and the same person that made them communicated them
likewise to Mademoiselle de Saint Germain. She pretended to laugh, but
in reality was piqued. It is a maxim religiously observed by the fair
sex, to envy each other those indulgences which themselves refuse. She
took this very ill of the Marchioness. On the other hand, Matta was
asked if he was not old enough to make his own presents himself to the
Marchioness de Senantes, without sending them by the Chevalier de
Grammont. This roused him; for of himself, he would never have perceived
it: his suspicions, however, were but slight, and he was willing to have
them removed. "I must confess," said he to the Chevalier de Grammont,
"that they make love here quite in a new style; a man serves here without
reward: he addresses himself to the husband when he is in love with the
wife, and makes presents to another man's mistress, to get into the good
graces of his own. The Marchioness is much obliged to you for-----"
"It is you who are obliged," replied the Chevalier, "since thus was done
on your account: I was ashamed to find you had never yet thought of
presenting her with any trifling token of your attention: do you know
that the people of this court have such extraordinary notions, as to
think that it is rather owing to inadvertency that you never yet have had
the spirit to make your mistress the smallest present? For shame! how
ridiculous it is, that you can never think for yourself?"
Matta took this rebuke, without making any answer, being persuaded that
he had in some measure deserved it: besides, he was neither sufficiently
jealous, nor sufficiently amorous, to think any more of it; however, as
it was necessary for the Chevalier's affairs that Matta should be
acquainted with the Marquis de Senantes, he plagued him so much about it,
that at last he complied. His friend introduced him, and his mistress
seemed pleased with this proof of complaisance, though she was resolved
that he should gain nothing by it; and the husband, being gratified with
a piece of civility which he had long expected, determined, that very
evening, to give them a supper at a little country seat of his, on the
banks of the river, very near the city.
The Chevalier de Grammont answering for them both, accepted the offer;
and as this was the only one Matta would not have refused from the
Marquis, he likewise consented. The Marquis came to convey them in his
carriage at the hour appointed; but he found only Matta. The Chevalier
had engaged himself to play, on purpose that they might go without him:
Matta was for waiting for him, so great was his fear of being left alone
with the Marquis; but the Chevalier having sent to desire them to go on
before, and that he would be with them as soon as he had finished his
game, poor Matta was obliged to set out with the man who, of all the
world, was most offensive to him. It was not the Chevalier's intention
quickly to extricate Matta out of this embarrassment: he no sooner knew
that they were gone, than he waited on the Marchioness, under pretence of
still finding her husband, that they might all go together to supper.
The plot was in a fair way; and as the Marchioness was of opinion that
Matta's indifference merited no better treatment from her, she made no
scruple of acting her part in it: she therefore waited for the Chevalier
de Grammont with intentions so much the more favourable, as she had for
a long time expected him, and had some curiosity to receive a visit from
him in the absence of her husband. We may therefore suppose that this
first opportunity would not have been lost, if Mademoiselle de Saint
Germain had not unexpectedly come in, almost at the same time with the
Chevalier.
She was more handsome and more entertaining that day than she had ever
been before; however, she appeared to them very ugly and very tiresome:
she soon perceived that her company was disagreeable, and being
determined that they should not be out of humour with her for nothing,
after having passed above a long half hour in diverting herself with
their uneasiness, and in playing a thousand monkey tricks, which she
plainly saw could never be more unseasonable, she pulled off her hood,
scarf, and all that part of her dress which ladies lay aside, when in a
familiar manner they intend to pass the day anywhere. The Chevalier de
Grammont cursed her in his heart, while she continued to torment him for
being in such ill-humour in such good company: at last the Marchioness,
who was as much vexed as he was, said rather drily that she was obliged
to wait on her Royal Highness: Mademoiselle de Saint Germain told her
that she would have the honour to accompany her, if it would not be
disagreeable: she took not the smallest notice of her offer; and the
Chevalier, finding that it would be entirely useless to prolong his visit
at that time, retired with a good grace.
As soon as he had left the house, he sent one of his scouts to desire the
Marquis to sit down to table with his company without waiting for him,
because the game might not perhaps be finished as soon as he expected,
but that he would be with him before supper was over. Having despatched
this messenger, he placed a sentinel at the Marchioness's door, in hopes
that the tedious Saint Germain might go out before her; but this was in
vain, for his spy came and told him, after an hour's impatience and
suspense, that they were gone out together. He found there was no chance
of seeing her again that day, everything falling out contrary to his
wishes; he was forced therefore to leave the Marchioness, and go in quest
of the Marquis.
While these things were going on in the city, Matta was not much diverted
in the country: as he was prejudiced against the Marquis, all that he
said displeased him: he cursed the Chevalier heartily for the tete-a-tete
which he had procured him; and he was upon the point of going away, when
he found that he was to sit down to supper without any other company.
However, as his host was very choice in his entertainments, and had the
best wine and the best cook in all Piedmont, the sight of the first
course appeased him; and eating most voraciously, without paying any
attention to the Marquis, he flattered himself that the supper would
end without any dispute; but he was mistaken.
When the Chevalier de Grammont was at first endeavouring to bring
about an intercourse between the Marquis and Matta, he had given a very
advantageous character of the latter, to make the former more desirous of
his acquaintance; and in the display of a thousand other accomplishments,
knowing what an infatuation the Marquis had for the very name of
erudition, he assured him that Matta was one of the most learned men in
Europe.
The Marquis, therefore, from the moment they sat down to supper, had
expected some stroke of learning from Matta, to bring his own into play;
but he was much out in his reckoning; no one had read less, no one
thought less, and no one had ever spoken so little at an entertainment as
he had done as he did not wish to enter into conversation, he opened his
mouth only to eat, or ask for wine.
The other, being offended at a silence which appeared to him affected,
and wearied with having uselessly attacked him upon other subjects,
thought he might get something out of him by changing the discourse of
love and gallantry; and therefore, to begin the subject, he accosted him
in this manner:
"Since you are my wife's gallant--" "I!" said Matta who wished to carry
it discreetly: "those who told you so, told a damned lie." "Zounds,
sir," said the Marquis, "you speak in a tone which does not at all become
you; for I would have you to know, notwithstanding your contemptuous
airs, that the Marchioness de Senantes is perhaps as worthy of your
attentions as any of your French ladies, and that I have known some
greatly your superiors, who have thought it an honour to serve her."
"Very well," said Matta, "I think she is very deserving, and since you
insist upon it, I am her servant and gallant, to oblige you."
"You think, perhaps," continued the other, "that the same custom prevails
in this country as in your own, and that the ladies have lovers, with no
other intentions than to grant them favours: undeceive yourself if you
please, and know, likewise, that even if such events were frequent in
this court, I should not be at all uneasy." "Nothing can be more civil,"
said Matta; "but wherefore would you not?" "I will tell you why,"
replied he: "I am well acquainted with the affection my wife entertains
for me: I am acquainted with her discretion towards all the world; and,
what is more, I am acquainted with my own merit."
"You have a most uncommon acquaintance then," replied Matta;
"I congratulate you upon it; I have the honour to drink it in a bumper."
The Marquis pledged him; but seeing that the conversation dropped on
their ceasing to drink, after two or three healths, he wished to make a
second attempt, and attack Matta on his strong side, that is to say, on
his learning.
He desired him, therefore, to tell him, at what time he thought the
Allobroges came to settle in Piedmont. Matta, who wished him and his
Allobroges at the devil, said, that it must be in the time of the civil
wars. "I doubt that," said the other. "Just as you like," said Matta.
"Under what consulate?" replied the Marquis: "Under that of the League,"
said Matta, "when the Guises brought the Lansquenets into France; but
what the devil does that signify?"
The Marquis was tolerably warm, and naturally savage, so that God knows
how the conversation would have ended, if the Chevalier de Grammont had
not unexpectedly come in to appease them. It was some time before he
could find out what their debate was; for the one had forgotten the
questions, and the other the answers, which had disobliged him, in order
to reproach the Chevalier with his eternal passion for play, which made
him always uncertain. The Chevalier, who knew that he was still more
culpable than they thought, bore it all with patience, and condemned
himself more than they desired: this appeased them; and the entertainment
ended with greater tranquillity than it had begun. The conversation was
again reduced to order; but he could not enliven it as he usually did.
He was in very ill humour, and as he pressed them every minute to rise
from table, the Marquis was of opinion that he had lost a great deal.
Matta said, on the contrary, that he had won; but for want of precautions
had made perhaps an unfortunate retreat; and asked him if he had not
stood in need of Serjeant La Place, with his ambuscade.
This piece of history was beyond the comprehension of the Marquis, and
being afraid that Matta might explain it, the Chevalier changed the
discourse, and was for rising from table; but Matta would not consent
to it. This effected a reconciliation between him and the Marquis, who
thought this was a piece of civility intended for him; however, it was
not for him, but for his wine, to which Matta had taken a prodigious
liking.
The Duchess, who knew the character of the Marquis, was charmed with the
account which the Chevalier de Grammont gave her of the entertainment and
conversation: she sent for Matta to know the truth of it from himself: he
confessed, that before the Allobroges were mentioned the Marquis was
for quarrelling with him, because he was not in love with his wife.
Their acquaintance having begun in this manner, all the esteem which the
Marquis had formerly expressed for the Chevalier seemed now directed
towards Matta: he went every day to pay Matta a visit, and Matta was
every day with his wife. This did not at all suit the Chevalier: he
repented of his having chid Matta, whose assiduity now interrupted all
his schemes; and the Marchioness was still more embarrassed. Whatever
wit a man may have, it will never please where his company is disliked;
and she repented that she had been formerly guilty of some trifling
advances towards him.
Matta began to find charms in her person, and might have found the same
in her conversation, if she had been inclined to display them; but it
is impossible to be in good humour with persons who thwart our designs.
While his passion increased, the Chevalier de Grammont was solely
occupied in endeavouring to find out some method, by which he might
accomplish his intrigue; and this was the stratagem which he put in
execution to clear the coast, by removing, at one and the same time,
both the lover and the husband.
He told Matta, that they ought to invite the Marquis to supper at their
lodgings, and he would take upon himself to provide everything proper for
the occasion. Matta desired to know if it was to play at quinze, and
assured him that he should take care to render abortive any intention he
might have to engage in play, and leave him alone with the greatest
blockhead in all Europe. The Chevalier de Grammont did not entertain any
such thought, being persuaded that it would be impossible to take
advantage of any such opportunity, in whatever manner he might take his
measures, and that they would seek for him in every corner of the city
rather than allow him the least repose: his whole attention was therefore
employed in rendering the entertainment agreeable, in finding out means
of prolonging it, in order ultimately to kindle some dispute between the
Marquis and Matta. For this purpose he put himself in the best humour in
the world, and the wine produced the same effect on the rest of the
company.
The Chevalier de Grammont expressed his concern, that he had not been
able to give the Marquis a little concert, as he had intended in the
morning; for the musicians had been all pre-engaged. Upon this the
Marquis undertook to have them at his country-house the following
evening, and invited the same company to sup with him there. Matta asked
what the devil they wanted with music, and maintained that it was of no
use on such occasions but for women who had something to say to their
lovers, while the fiddles prevented them from being overheard, or for
fools who had nothing to say when the music ended. They ridiculed all
his arguments: the party was fixed for the next day, and the music was
voted by the majority of voices. The Marquis, to console Matta, as well
as to do honour to the entertainment, toasted a great many healths: Matta
was more ready to listen to his arguments on this topic than in a
dispute; but the Chevalier, perceiving that a little would irritate them,
desired nothing more earnestly than to see them engaged in some new
controversy. It was in vain that he had from time to time started some
subject of discourse with this intention; but having luckily thought of
asking what was his lady's maiden name, Senantes, who was a great
genealogist, as all fools are who have good memories, immediately began
by tracing out her family, by an endless confused string of lineage. The
Chevalier seemed to listen to him with great attention; and perceiving
that Matta was almost out of patience, he desired him to attend to what
the Marquis was saying, for that nothing could be more entertaining.
"All this may be very true," said Matta; "but for my part, I must
confess, if I were married, I should rather choose to inform myself who
was the real father of my children, than who were my wife's grand
fathers." The Marquis, smiling at this rudeness, did not leave off until
he had traced back the ancestors of his spouse, from line to line, as far
as Yolande de Senantes: after this he offered to prove, in less than half
an hour, that the Grammonts came originally from Spain. "Very well,"
said Matta, "and pray what does it signify to us from whence the Grammonts
are descended? Do not you know, sir, that it is better to know nothing
at all, than to know too much?"
The Marquis maintained the contrary with great warmth, and was preparing
a formal argument to prove that an ignorant man is a fool; but the
Chevalier de Grammont, who was thoroughly acquainted with Matta saw very
clearly that he would send the logician to the devil before he should
arrive at the conclusion of his syllogism: for which reason, interposing
as soon as they began to raise their voices, he told them it was
ridiculous to quarrel about an affair in itself so trivial, and treated
the matter in a serious light, that it might make the greater impression.
Thus supper terminated peaceably, owing to the care he took to suppress
all disputes, and to substitute plenty of wine in their stead.
The next day Matta went to the chase, the Chevalier de Grammont to the
bagnio, and the Marquis to his country house. While the latter was
making the necessary preparations for his guests, not forgetting the
music, and Matta pursuing his game to get an appetite, the Chevalier was
meditating on the execution of his project.
As soon as he had regulated his plan of operations in his own mind, he
privately sent anonymous intelligence to the officer of the guard at the
palace that the Marquis de Senantes had had some words with Monsieur de
Matta the preceding night at supper; that the one had gone out in the
morning; and the other could not be found in the city.
Madame Royale, alarmed at this advice, immediately sent for the Chevalier
de Grammont: he appeared surprised when her highness mentioned the
affair: he confessed, indeed, that some high words had passed between
them, but that he did not believe either of them would have remembered
them the next day. He said that if no mischief had yet taken place, the
best way would be to secure them both until the morning, and that if they
could be found, he would undertake to reconcile them, and to obliterate
all grievances: in this there was no great difficulty. On inquiry at the
Marquis's they were informed that he was gone to his country-house: there
certainly he was, and there they found him; the officer put him under an
arrest, without assigning any reason for so doing, and left him in very
great surprise.
Immediately upon Matta's return from hunting, her Royal Highness sent the
same officer to desire him to give her his word that he would not stir
out that evening. This compliment very much surprised him, more
particularly as no reason was assigned for it. He was expected at a good
entertainment he was dying with hunger, and nothing appeared to him more
unreasonable than to oblige him to stay at home, in a situation like the
present; but he had given his word, and not knowing to what this might
tend, his only resource was to send for his friend; but his friend did
not come to him until his return from the country. He had there found
the Marquis in the midst of his fiddlers, and very much vexed to find
himself a prisoner in his own house on account of Matta, whom he was
waiting for in order to feast him: he complained of him bitterly to the
Chevalier de Grammont: he said that he did not believe that he had
offended him; but that, since he was very desirous of a quarrel, he
desired the Chevalier to acquaint him, if he felt the least displeasure
on the present occasion, he should, on the very first opportunity,
receive what is called satisfaction. The Chevalier de Grammont assured
him that no such thought had ever entered the mind of Matta; that on the
contrary, he knew that he very greatly esteemed him; that all this could
alone arise from the extreme tenderness of his lady, who, being alarmed
upon the report of the servants who waited at table, must have gone to
her Royal Highness, in order to prevent any unpleasant consequences; that
he thought this the more probable, as he had often told the Marchioness,
when speaking of Matta, that he was the best swordsman in France; for, in
truth, the poor gentleman had never fought without having the misfortune
of killing his man.
The Marquis, being a little pacified, said he was very much obliged to
him, that he would severely chide his wife for her unseasonable
tenderness, and that he was extremely desirous of again enjoying the
pleasure of his dear friend Matta's company.
The Chevalier de Grammont assured him that he would use all his
endeavours for that purpose, and at the same time gave strict charge to
his guard not to let him escape without orders from the Court, as he
seemed fully bent upon fighting, and they would be responsible for him:
there was no occasion to say more to have him strictly watched, though
there was no necessity for it.
One being thus safely lodged, his next step was to secure the other: he
returned immediately to town: and as soon as Matta saw him, "What the
devil," said he, "is the meaning of this farce which I am obliged to act?
for my part, I cannot understand the foolish customs of this country; how
comes it that they make me a prisoner upon my parole?" "How comes it?"
said the Chevalier de Grammont, "it is because you yourself are far more
unaccountable than all their customs; you cannot help disputing with a
peevish fellow, whom you ought only to laugh at; some officious footman
has no doubt been talking of your last night's dispute; you were seen to
go out of town in the morning, and the Marquis soon after; was not this
sufficient to make her Royal Highness think herself obliged to take these
precautions? The Marquis is in custody; they have only required your
parole; so far, therefore, from taking the affair in the sense you do, I
should send very humbly to thank her Highness for the kindness she has
manifested towards you in putting you under arrest, since it is only on
your account that she interests herself in the affair. I shall take a
walk to the palace, where I will endeavour to unravel this mystery; in
the mean time, as there is but little probability that the matter should
be settled this evening, you would do well to order supper; for I shall
come back to you immediately."
Matta charged him not to fail to express to her Royal Highness the
grateful sense he had of her favour, though in truth he as little feared
the Marquis as he loved him; and it is impossible to express the degree
of his fortitude in stronger terms.
The Chevalier de Grammont returned in about half an hour, with two or
three gentlemen whom Matta had got acquainted with at the chase, and who,
upon the report of the quarrel, waited upon him, and each offered him
separately his services against the unassisted and pacific Marquis.
Matta having returned them his thanks, insisted upon their staying
supper, and put on his robe de chambre.
As soon as the Chevalier de Grammont perceived that every thing coincided
with his wishes, and that towards the end of the entertainment the toasts
went merrily round, he knew he was sure of his man till next day: then
taking him aside with the permission of the company, and making use of a
false confidence in order to disguise a real treachery, he acquainted
him, after having sworn him several times to secrecy, that he had at last
prevailed upon the little Saint Germain to grant him an interview that
night; for which reason he would take his leave, under pretence of going
to play at Court; he therefore desired him fully to satisfy the company
that he would not have left them on any other account, as the Piedmontese
are naturally mistrustful. Matta promised he would manage this point
with discretion; that he would make an apology for him, and that there
was no occasion for his personally taking leave: then, after
congratulating him upon the happy posture of his affairs, he sent him
away with all the expedition and secrecy imaginable; so great was his
fear lest his friend should lose the present opportunity.
Matta then returned to the company, much pleased with the confidence
which had been placed in him, and with the share he had in the success of
this adventure. He put himself into the best humour imaginable in order
to divert the attention of his guests; he severely satirised those,
whose rage for gaming induced them to sacrifice to it every other
consideration; he loudly ridiculed the folly of the Chevalier upon this
article, and secretly laughed at the credulity of the Piedmontese, whom
he had deceived with so much ingenuity.
It was late at night before the company broke up, and Matta went to bed,
very well satisfied with what he had done for his friend; and, if we may
credit appearances, this friend enjoyed the fruit of his perfidy. The
amorous Marchioness received him like one who wished to enhance the value
of the favour she bestowed; her charms were far from being neglected; and
if there are any circumstances in which we may detest the traitor while
we profit by the treason, this was not one of them; and however
successful the Chevalier de Grammont was in his intrigues, it was not
owing to him that the contrary was not believed; but, be that as it may,
being convinced that in love whatever is gained by address is gained
fairly, it does not appear that he ever showed the smallest degree of
repentance for this trick. But it is now time for its to take him from
the court of Savoy, to see him shine in that of France.