Ninon's Lovers--Continued
A counter attraction has been referred to in speaking of the Hôtel
Rambouillet, where a fashionable court was established for the purpose
of drawing away from Ninon the elite who flocked to her standard.
Mademoiselle de Scudery gives a fine description of this little court
at Rambouillet in her romance, entitled "Cyrus." There was not and
could not be any rivalry between the court in the Rue des Tournelles
and that at Rambouillet, for the reason that Ninon's coterie consisted
of men exclusively, while that of Rambouillet was thronged with women.
But this, quite naturally, occasioned much envy and jealousy among the
ladies who devised all sorts of entertainments to attract masculine
society. One of their performances was the famous "Julia Garland," so
named in honor of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, who was known by the
name of "Julie d'Angennes." Each one selected a favorite flower, wrote
a sonnet in its praise, and when all were ready, they stood around
Mademoiselle de Rambouillet in a circle and alternately recited the
poem, the reward for the best one being the favor of some fair lady.
Among those who were drawn to the Hôtel Rambouillet by this pleasing
entertainment was the Duke d'Enghien, afterward known as the "Great
Condé," a prince of the highest renown as a victorious warrior. He
was a great acquisition, and the Garland Play was repeated every night
in the expectation that his pleasure would continue, and the constant
attraction prove adequate to hold him. Once or twice, however, was
sufficient for the Duke, its constant repetition becoming flat and
tiresome. He did not scruple to express his dissatisfaction with a
society that could not originate something new. He was a broad minded
man, with a comprehensive knowledge, but had little taste for poetry
and childish entertainments. But the good ladies of Rambouillet,
unable to devise any other entertainment, persisted in their Garland
Play, until the Duke's human nature rebelled at the monotony, and he
begged his friends de Moissens and Saint-Evremond to suggest some
relief. They immediately brought him in touch with the Birds of the
Tournelles, with the result that he abandoned the Hôtel Rambouillet
and found scope for his social desires at Ninon's house and in her
more attractive society. The conquest of his heart followed that of
his intelligence, the hero of Rocroi being unable to resist a
tenderness which is the glory of a lover and the happiness of his
mistress.
It is a curious fact, known to some, that all the heroes of Bellona
are not expert in the wars of Venus, the strongest and most valiant
souls being weak in combats in which valor plays an unimportant part.
The poet Chaulieu says upon this point:
"Pour avoir la valeur d'Hercule,
On n'est pas obligé d'en avoir la vigueur."
(To have the valor of Hercules, one need not have his vigor.)
The young Prince was born to attain immortal glory on the field of
Mars. To that all his training had tended, but notwithstanding his
robust physique, and the indicia of great strength with which nature
had endowed him, he was a weakling in the field of Venus. He came
within the category of a Latin proverb with which Ninon was familiar:
"Pilosus aut fortis, aut libidinosus." (A hairy man is either strong
or sensual.) Wherefore, one day when Ninon was enjoying his society,
she looked at him narrowly and exclaimed: "Ah, Monseigneur, il faut
que vous soyez bien fort!" (Ah, Monseigneur, you must be very strong.)
Notwithstanding this, the two dwelt together for a long time in
perfect harmony, the intellectual benefit the Duke derived from the
close intimacy being no less than the pleasure he derived from her
affection. Naturally inclined to deserve the merit and esteem as well
as the love of her admirers, Ninon used all the influence she
possessed to regulate their lives and to inspire them with the true
desire to perform faithfully the duties of their rank and station.
What power over her intimates does not possess a charming woman
disembarrassed of conventional prudery, but vested with grace, high
sentiments, and mental attainments! It was through the gentle exercise
of this power that the famous Aspasia graved in the soul of Pericles
the seductive art of eloquent language, and taught him the most solid
maxims of politics, maxims of which he made so noble a use.
The young Duke, penetrated with love and esteem for Ninon, passed at
her side every moment he could steal away from the profound studies
and occupations required by his rank and position. Although he
afterward became the Prince de Condé, the Lion of his time, and the
bulwark of France, he never ceased expressing for her the liveliest
gratitude and friendship. Whenever he met her equipage in the streets
of Paris, he never failed to descend from his own and go to pay her
the most affectionate compliments.
The Prince de Marsillac, afterward the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, less
philosophical then than later in life, and who prided himself on his
acquaintance with all the vices and follies of youth, could not long
withhold his admiration for the solid and estimable qualities he
perceived in Ninon, whom he often saw in the company of the Duke
d'Enghein. The result of his admiration was that he formed a tender
attachment which lasted as long as he lived. It was Ninon who
continued the good work begun by Madame de La Fayette, who confessed
that her social relations with la Rochefoucauld had been the means of
embellishing her mind, and that in compensation for this great service
she had reformed his heart. Whatever share Madame de La Fayette may
have had in reforming the heart of this great man, it is certain that
Ninon de l'Enclos had much to do with reforming his morals and
elevating his mind up to the point it is evident he reached, to judge
from his "Maxims," in which the human heart is bared as with a scalpel
in the most skilfully devised epigrams that never cease to hold the
interest of every reader.
Chapelle, the most celebrated voluptuary in Paris, did everything in
his power to overcome Ninon's repugnance, but without success. There
was nothing lacking in his mental attainments, for he was a poet of
very high order, inimitable in his style; moreover, he was presentable
in his person. Yet he could not make the slightest impression on
Ninon's heart. He openly declared his love, and, receiving constant
rebuffs, resolved to have revenge and overcome her resistance by
punishing her. This he attempted to do in a very singular manner
without regard to consistency.
All Paris knew his verses in which he did not conceal his ardent love
for Ninon, and in which were expressed the highest admiration for her
estimable qualities and the depth of her philosophy. He now proceeded
to take back everything good he had said about her and made fun of her
love, her friendship, and her attainments. He ridiculed her in every
possible manner, even charging up against her beauty, her age. A verse
or so will enable the reader to understand his methods:
"Il ne faut pas qu'on s'étonne,
Si souvent elle raisonne
De la sublime vertu
Dont Platon fut revêtu:
Car à bien compter son âge,
Elle peut avoir vécu
Avec ce grand personnage."
Or, substantially in the English language:
Let no one be surprised,
If she should be advised
Of the virtue most renowned
In Plato to be found:
For, counting up her age,
She lived, 'tis reason sound,
With that great personage.
Ninon had no rancor in her heart toward any one, much less against an
unsuccessful suitor, hence she only laughed at Chapelle's effusions
and all Paris laughed with her. The truth is, la Rochefoucauld had
impressed her mind with that famous saying of his: "Old age is the
hell of women," and not fearing any hell, reference to her age neither
alarmed her, nor caused the slightest flurry in her peaceful life. She
was too philosophical to regret the loss of what she did not esteem of
any value, and saw Chapelle slipping away from her with tranquillity
of mind. It was only during moments of gayety when she abandoned
herself to the play of an imagination always laughing and fertile,
that she repeated the sacrilegious wish of the pious king of Aragon,
who wished that he had been present at the moment of creation, when,
among the suggestions he could have given Providence, he would have
advised him to put the wrinkles of old age where the gods of Pagandom
had located the feeble spot in Achilles.
If Ninon ever felt a pang on account of the ungenerous conduct of
Chapelle, his disciple, the illustrious Abbé de Chaulieu, the Anacreon
of the age, who was called, when he made his entrée into the world of
letters "the poet of good fellowship," more than compensated her for
the injury done by his pastor. The Abbé was the Prior of Fontenay,
whither Ninon frequently accompanied Madame the Duchess de Bouillon
and the Chevalier d'Orléans. The Duchess loved to joke at the expense
of the Abbé, and twit him about his wasted talents, which were more
adapted to love than to his present situation. It may be that the
worthy Abbé, after thinking over seriously what was intended to be a
mere pleasantry, concluded that Madame the Duchess was right, and that
he possessed some talent in the direction of love. However that might,
have been, it is certain that he had cast an observant and critical
eye on Ninon, and he now openly paid her court, not unsuccessfully it
should be known.
The Abbé Gedoyn was her last lover so far as there is any account of
her amours. The story is related by Remond, surnamed "The Greek," and
must be taken with a grain of salt as Ninon was at that time
seventy-nine years of age. This Remond, notwithstanding her age, had
made violent love to Ninon without meeting with any success. Perhaps
he was trying an experiment, being a learned man, anxious to ascertain
when the fire of passion became extinct in the human breast. Ninon
evidently suspected his ardent professions for she refused to listen
to him and forbade his visits altogether.
"I was the dupe of his Greek erudition," she explained, "so I banished
him from my school. He was always wrong in his philosophy of the
world, and was unworthy of as sensible a society as mine." She often
added to this: "After God had made man, he repented him; I feel the
same about Rémond."
But to return to the Abbé Gedoyn: he left the Jesuits with the Abbé
Fraguier in 1694, that is to say, when Mademoiselle de l'Enclos was
seventy-eight years of age. Both of them immediately made the
acquaintance of Ninon and Madame de la Salière, and, astonished at the
profound merit they discovered, deemed it to their advantage to
frequent their society for the purpose of adding to their talents
something which the study of the cloister and experience in the king's
cabinet itself had never offered them. Abbé Gedoyn became particularly
attached to Mademoiselle de l'Enclos, whose good taste and
intellectual lights he considered such sure and safe guides. His
gratitude soon received the additions of esteem and admiration, and
the young disciple felt the growth of desires which it is difficult to
believe were real, but which became so pressing, that they revived in
a heart nearly extinct a feeble spark of that fire with which it had
formerly burned. Mademoiselle de l'Enclos refused to accede to the
desires of her lover until she was fully eighty years of age, a term
which did not cool the ardor of the amorous Abbé, who waited
impatiently and on her eightieth birthday compelled his benefactress
to keep her word.
This incident recalls the testimony of a celebrated Countess of
Salisbury, who was called to testify as an expert upon the subject of
love in a celebrated criminal case that was tried over a hundred years
ago in the English House of Lords. The woman correspondent was of an
age when human passion is supposed to be extinct, and her counsel was
attempting to prove that fact to relieve her from the charge. The
testimony of the aged Countess, who was herself over seventy-five
years of age, was very unsatisfactory, and the court put this question
to her demanding an explicit answer.
"Madame," he inquired, "at what age does the sentiment, passion, or
desire of love cease in the female heart?"
Her ladyship, who had lived long in high society and had been
acquainted with all of the gallants and coquettes of the English court
for nearly two generations, and who, herself, had sometimes been
suspected of not having been averse to a little waywardness, looked
down at her feet for a moment thoughtfully, then raising her eyes and
locking squarely into those of the judge, answered:
"My Lord, you will have to ask a woman older than I."