PARIS, July 26, 1668.
I begin by thanking you, my dear cousin, for your letters to the king.
They would afford me pleasure even if they were written by a stranger.
They have awakened in me sentiments of pity, and I should think they
must produce the same effect on our sovereign. It is true, he does not
bear the name of Rabutin, as I do.
The prettiest girl in France sends her compliments to you. This title
is due to her; I am, however, weary of doing the honors of it. She is
more worthy than ever of your esteem and friendship.
You do not know, I believe, that my son is gone to Candia with M. de
Roannes, and the Count de Saint Paul. He consulted M. de Turenne,
Cardinal du Retz, and M. de Rochefoucault upon this: most important
personages! and they all approved it so highly that it was fixed upon,
and rumored abroad, before I knew any thing of the matter. In short,
he is gone. I have wept bitterly, for it is a source of great grief to
me. I shall not have a moment’s rest during his voyage. I see all its
dangers, and terrify myself to death; but alas, I am wholly out of the
question; for, in things of this nature, mothers have no voice. Adieu.