PARIS, Monday, Dec. 11, 1673.
I am just returned from St. Germain, where I have been two whole days
with Madame de Coulanges at M. de la Rochefoucault’s. In the evening
we went to pay our court to the queen, who said a thousand obliging
things to me of you; but if I were to enumerate all the how-d’ ye-do’s
and compliments that I had, both from men and women, old and young, who
crowd about me to inquire after you, I should have to name the whole
court. “And how does Madame de Grignan do? and when will she return?”
and so on. In short, only figure me to yourself in the midst of a crowd
of idle people, who, having nothing else to do, would every one ask me
some question, so that I was frequently obliged to answer twenty at
once. I dined with Madame de Louvois: it was who should be the first
to invite me. I would have returned yesterday, but we were stopped by
force to sup with M. Marsillac in his enchanted apartments with Madame
de Thianges, Madame Scarron, the duke, M. de la Rochefoucault, M. de
Vivonne, and a band of heavenly music. This morning, with much ado, we
got away.
A quarrel of a singular nature is the news of the day at St. Germain.
The Chevalier de Vendôme, and M. de Vivonne are the humble servants
of Madame de Ludre. The chevalier expressed a wish of compelling M.
de Vivonne to resign his pretensions. But on what grounds? he was
asked. Why, he would fight M. de Vivonne. They laughed at him. It was,
however, no joke, he said, he would fight him; and he mounted his
horse to take the field. But the best of the story was Vivonne’s reply
to the person who brought him the challenge. He was confined to his
room by a wound in his arm, and, receiving the condolence of the whole
court, ignorant of the threat of his rival: “I, gentlemen,” said he,
“I fight! He may fight if he pleases, but I defy him to make me fight.
Let him get his shoulder broken, let the surgeon make twenty incisions
in his arm, and then”--it was thought he was going to say, _we will
fight_--“and then,” said he, “perhaps we may be friends. But the man
must be jesting to think of firing at me! A pretty project, truly!
He might as well fire at the door of a house.[84] I repent, however,
having saved his life in crossing the Rhine, and will do no more such
generous actions till I have the nativity cast of those I intend to
assist. Would any one have thought, when I was remounting this fellow
on his horse, that a few weeks afterward he would want to shoot me
through the head for my kindness?” This speech, from the tone and
manner in which it was delivered, had so droll an effect, that nothing
else is talked of at St. Germain.
[84] M. de Vivonne was remarkably corpulent.
I found your siege of Orange very much magnified at court. The king
had spoken of it very agreeably, and it was thought highly honorable
to M. de Grignan, that, without the king’s order, and merely to follow
him, seven hundred gentlemen should have assembled upon the occasion;
for the king having said _seven hundred_, every one else said _seven
hundred_; it was added, with a laugh, that two hundred litters also
followed him. But it is thought, seriously, that few governors could
have obtained such a retinue.
I have had two hours’ conversation at two different times with M. de
Pomponne. He exceeds my most sanguine hopes. Mademoiselle de Lavocat
is in our confidence: she is a very amiable girl. She knows all our
affairs--the business of the syndic, of the procurator, our gratuity,
opposition, deliberation, etc., as well as she does the map of the
empire and the interest of princes; that is, she has them at her
finger’s end. We call her the _little minister_. We have interludes in
our conversation, which M. de Pomponne calls flashes of rhetoric to
secure the good humor of the audience. There are some points in your
letters I can not reply to; we often answer ridiculously when we write
from such a distance. You know how grieved we once were at the loss of
some town, when they had been rejoicing for ten days at Paris because
the Prince of Orange had raised the siege; but this is one of the evils
of distance. Adieu, my beloved child; I embrace you very affectionately.