PARIS, Friday, June 14, 1675.
Instead of visiting you in your apartment, my dear child, I sit down
to converse with you by letter; when I am so unfortunate as not to
have you with me, the most natural consolation I can find is to write
to you, to receive your letters, to speak of you, or to take some step
in your affairs. I passed the afternoon yesterday with Cardinal de
Retz; you can not possibly guess what we talk of when we are together.
I always begin by telling you that you can not love him too well, and
that I think you happy in having so firmly fixed the kindness and
affection he before felt for you. Let me know how you bear the air at
Grignan, and whether it has already begun to prey upon you; how you
enjoy your health and how you look. Your picture is very pleasing, but
far less so than your person, without reckoning that it wants the power
of speech. Be not uneasy about my health; the rule I observe at present
is, to be irregular; I am not sensible of any indisposition; I dine
alone; stay at home till five or six o’clock, and go in the evening,
when I have no business of importance to keep me within, to the house
of one of my friends. I walk or ride according to the distance, but
I make every thing yield to the pleasure of being with our cardinal.
I lose not a moment he can spare me, and he is very obliging in this
respect. I shall feel more sensibly his departure and his absence;
but this does not prevent my indulging myself in the pleasure of his
conversation; I never think of sparing myself; after having endured the
pangs of parting with you, I have nothing to fear from any less tender
attachment. Were it not for him, and for your affairs, I should go a
little to Livri; but I make every consideration yield to these, which
are above all my little pleasures.
The queen went to see Madame de Montespan at Clagny on the day I told
you she took her up in her carriage as she passed; she went into her
room, where she staid half an hour; she then went into M. du Vexin’s,
who was a little indisposed, and afterward took Madame de Montespan
to Trianon, as I informed you. Some ladies have been at Clagny; they
found the fair lady so occupied with the building and enchantments
that are preparing for her, that I fancy her like Dido building
Carthage; but the resemblance will not hold good in any other respect.
M. de la Rochefoucault and Madame de la Fayette have entreated me to
present their compliments to you. We fear you will have too much of
the grand-duchess.[111] A prison is preparing for her at Montmartre,
with which she would be frightened, if she did not hope to change
it; but she will be caught; they are delighted in Tuscany to have
got rid of her. Madame de Sully is gone; Paris is become a desert. I
already wish myself out of it. I dined yesterday with the coadjutor
at the cardinal’s: I have left him in charge to inform you of that
part of ecclesiastical history. M. Joli[112] preached at the opening
of the assembly of the clergy, but as he took an ancient text, and
preached only ancient doctrine, his sermon seemed a piece of antiquity
altogether. It was a fine subject too for reflection.
The queen dined to-day at the Carmelites de Bouloi, with Madame de
Montespan, and Madame de Fontevraud; you will see how this friendship
will end. They say that M. de Turenne, as it were, conducts the enemy’s
troops to their quarters. My heart is much oppressed with the thoughts
of losing the cardinal; the repeated intercourse of friendship and
conversation which has so lately passed between us, redoubles my grief;
he goes to-morrow. I have not yet received your letters. Believe, my
dear, that it is not possible to love you more than I love you; nothing
animates me but what has some relation to you. Madame de Rochebonne has
written to me very affectionately; she told me with what feelings you
received and read my letters at Lyons. I see, my dear, you are grown
weak as well as I.
D’Hacqueville has sent you such a large packet that it would be
ridiculous to pretend to tell you any news now.
[111] Marguerite-Louise d’Orléans, daughter of Gaston de France
Duke of Orléans, and of Marguerite de Lorraine, his second wife.
[112] Claude Joli, Bishop of Agen.