obliges me to go immediately to the play; we shall see what it is.
[55] A line in Despréaux.
I have been at Livri. Ah, my dear child, how well did I keep my word
with you, and how many tender thoughts of you filled my breast! It was
delightful weather, though very cold; but the sun shone finely, and
every tree was hung with pearls and crystals, that formed a pleasing
diversity of colors. I walked a great deal. The next day I dined at
Pomponne. It would not be an easy matter to recount all that passed
during a stay of five hours; however, I was not at all tired with my
visit. Monsieur de Pomponne will be here in three or four days. I
should be very much vexed if I was obliged to apply to him about your
Provence affairs; I am persuaded he will not hear me. You see I give
myself airs of knowledge. But really nothing comes up to M. d’Uzès; I
never saw a man of better understanding, nor one more capable of giving
sound advice. I wait to see him, that I may inform you of what he has
done at St. Germain.
You desire me to write you long letters; I think you have now
sufficient reason to be contented; I am sometimes frightened at the
length of them myself; and were it not for your agreeable flattery, I
should never think of venturing them out of my hands. Madame de Brissac
is excellently provided for the winter, in M. de Longueville and the
Count de Guiche; but nothing is meant but what is fair and honorable,
only she takes a pleasure in being adored. La Marans is never seen
now, either at Madame de la Fayette’s or at M. de la Rochefoucault’s;
we can not find out what she is doing; we are apt to judge a little
rashly now and then; she took it into her head this summer, that she
should be ravished, as if she wished it; but I am of opinion that she
is in no great danger. Good Heavens, what a mad creature she is, and
how long have I looked on her in the same light as you do now! But now
let me tell you, my dear, it is not my fault that I do not see Madame
de la Valavoire.[56] I am sure there is no occasion to bid me go and
see her, it is enough that she has seen you, for me to run after her;
but then she is running after somebody else; for I might forever desire
her to wait at home for me; I can not get her to do me that favor.
Your jest applies admirably to M. le Grand, and a very good one it is.
Poor Châtillon is every day teasing us with the most wretched ones
imaginable.
[56] A lady of quality in Provence, who was just then come to
Paris.