THE ROCKS, Sunday, Oct. 20, 1675.
I can not sufficiently admire the diligence and fidelity of the post.
I received on the 18th your letter of the 9th, that is, in nine days
only after date, which is all that can be desired. But, my dear, we
must soon put an end to our admirations; for, as you say, you are
going still further off, that we may both be exactly in the spot which
Providence has assigned us. For my part, God knows, I acquit myself
very ill in my residence; but you, heavens! M. d’Angers (H. Arnauld)
can not do more. When I think, however, of our separation, and how
much I deserve to enjoy the pleasure of being with you, and of all
your affection for me, and then reflect that we are placed at two
different ends of the globe, you must excuse me if I can not view this
part of our history with gayety of heart. Common sense opposes it, and
my infinite love still more. I have nothing to do but take refuge in
submission to the will of Providence. I am very glad you have seen M.
de la Garde; he does me great honor in approving my turn of mind: he is
a very good judge. I am sorry you are going to lose him so soon, for he
is really a worthy man. Your conversations must have been endless. So
he is to take the archbishop away to La Garde. It was very well said of
him, that he was like a river which fertilized and made every country
flourish through which it passed. I find he did wonders at Grignan.
M. de Chaulnes is at Rennes with four thousand men; he has removed
the parliament to Vannes, which has occasioned a terrible desolation.
The ruin of Rennes brings with it that of the whole province. Madame
de Marbeuf is at Vitré; she has brought me a thousand compliments
from Madame de Chaulnes, and from M. de Vins, who intends paying me a
visit. I am not under the least apprehension about these troops on my
own account, but I can not help feeling for the despair and desolation
our poor province suffers at present. It is supposed we shall not
have any assembly of the states here, or if we have, it will be only
to buy off the taxes which we gave two million five hundred thousand
livres to have taken off only two years ago, and which have been all
laid upon our shoulders again; and, perhaps, they may set a price too
upon bringing the parliament back to Rennes. M. de Montmoron[126] is
fled out of the town, to a seat belonging to one of his friends, at
about three leagues distance from hence, that he may avoid hearing the
cries and lamentations of the people at seeing their dear parliament
removed. You see I am quite a Breton, but, you know, it is owing to
the air I breathe, and to something else, for every creature, without
distinction, is in affliction throughout the province. Be under no
concern about my health, my dearest child; I am extremely well. Madame
de Tarente has given me an essence that has cured her of vapors that
were worse than mine: two drops are to be taken for fifteen days
following, in any beverage that is drunk at table, and it cures
effectually. She has told me circumstances of its efficacy, which
have all the air of those in the comedy of the Médecin Forcé; but I
believe them all, and I would take some of the essence now if it were
not that I think it a pity to make use of so admirable a remedy when I
have no real occasion for it. I will send you, some time or other, the
remainder of the prosperities of the boat. You will make La Plessis too
vain, for I shall tell her how much you love her. Except what I told
you the other day, I do not think a better creature exists. She is here
every day. I have some of your excellent Hungary water in my pocket; I
am quite in love with it; it cures all my sorrows; I wish I could send
some of it to Rennes.
[126] He was a Sévigné, and dean of the parliament of Brittany.
My woods continue very beautiful still, and the verdure is a hundred
times finer than at Livri; I do not know whether this proceeds from
the nature of the trees themselves, or from the refreshing rains we
have here; but there is certainly no comparison; every thing here looks
as green now as in the month of May. The leaves that fall are brown,
it is true, but those that remain on the trees are not at all faded;
you never observed this beauty in them. As to that blessed tree that
saved your life, I am often tempted to build a little chapel there.
It seems to carry its head above all the rest, and exceeds them in
bulk as well as stature, and with very good reason, for it saved you.
I may, at least, repeat to it the stanza of Medor, in Ariosto, in
which he wishes happiness and peace to the cave that had given him so
much pleasure. Our sentences are not at all disfigured; I visit them
frequently. I think they are rather increased, and two trees that are
close to each other, often present us with two contrary sentiments,
“_La lontananza ogni grand piaga salda_,”[127] and “_Piaga d’amor non
si sana mais_.”[128] There are five or six thus contradictory. The
good princess was charmed with them, as I am with the letter you have
written our good abbé, on Jacob’s journey to the land of promise, in
your closet.
[127] Time is a cure for wounds however deep.
[128] The wounds of love are never to be healed.
Madame de Lavardin has informed me of what is still to be kept secret
for a few days longer, that D’Olonne is going to marry his brother to
Mademoiselle de Noirmoutier. He gives him all his lands in Poitou,
besides a great quantity of jewels and furniture. They are at La
Ferté-Milon, where this curious affair is to be made up. I never
thought D’Olonne would have given himself any concern about his name or
family.