PARIS, Wednesday, Jan. 13, 1672.
For Heaven’s sake, my dear child, what do you mean? What pleasure can
you take in thus abusing your person and understanding, vilifying your
conduct, and saying, that one must have great good-nature to think of
you sometimes? Though I am certain you can not believe all you say, yet
it hurts me to hear it; you really make me angry with you; and though,
perhaps, I ought not to answer seriously things that are only said in
jest, yet I can not help scolding you before I go any further. You are
excellent again, when you say you are afraid of wits. Alas! if you knew
how insignificant they are when you are by, and how encumbered they
are with their own dear persons, you would not value them at all. Do
you remember how you used to be deceived in them sometimes? Do not let
distance magnify objects too much; but it is one of its common effects.
We sup every evening at Madame Scarron’s; she has a most engaging wit,
and an understanding surprisingly just and clear. It is a pleasure to
hear her sometimes reason upon the horrid confusion and distractions of
a country with which she is very well acquainted. The vexations that
Heudicourt undergoes in a place that appears so dazzling and glorious;
the continual rage of Lauzun; the gloomy chagrin and cares of the court
ladies, from which the most envied are not always exempt; are things
which she describes in the most agreeable and entertaining manner. Such
conversations as these lead us insensibly from one moral reflection to
another, sometimes of a religious, sometimes of a political kind. You
are frequently one of our subjects; she admires your wit and manners;
and, whenever you return hither, you are sure of being highly in favor.
But let me give you an instance of the king’s goodness and generosity,
to show you what a pleasure it is to serve so amiable a master: He
sent for Marshal Bellefond into his closet the other day, and thus
accosted him: “Monsieur le maréchal, I insist upon knowing your reasons
for quitting my service. Is it through a principle of devotion? Is it
from an inclination to retire? Or is it on account of your debts? If
it be the latter, I myself will take charge of them, and inform myself
of the state of your affairs.” The marshal was sensibly affected with
this goodness: “Sire,” said he, “it is my debts; I am overwhelmed
with them, and can not bear to see some of my friends, who assisted
me with their fortunes, likely to suffer on my account, without
having it in my power to satisfy them.” “Well, then,” said the king,
“they shall have security for what is owing to them: I now give you a
hundred thousand francs on your house at Versailles, and a grant of
four hundred thousand more, as a security in case of your death. The
hundred thousand francs will enable you to pay off the arrears, and so
now you remain in my service.” That heart must be insensible indeed,
that could refuse the most implicit obedience to such a master, who
enters with so much goodness and condescension into the interest of his
servants. Accordingly the marshal made no further resistance; he is now
reinstated in his place, and loaded with favors. This is all strictly
true.
Not a night passes at St. Germain without balls, plays, or masquerades.
The king shows an assiduity to divert this madame that he never did for
the other. Racine has brought out a new piece called Bajazet, which
they say carries every thing before it: indeed it does not go _in
emperando_, as the others did. Monsieur de Tallard says, that it as
much exceeds the best piece of Corneille’s, as Corneille’s does one of
Boyer’s; this now is what you may call praising by the lump; there is
nothing like telling truth; however, our eyes and ears will inform us
more fully; for