PARIS, Friday, October 15, 1677.
We have been at Livri for these two days; Madame de Coulanges, who is
quite well, doing the honors of the house, and I the company. We had
the Abbé Têtu and Corbinelli with us. Mademoiselle de Méri, who was
returning from La Trousse, came there too, thinking to spend some days
with Madame de Coulanges; but this lady has ended her campaign, and we
all returned yesterday to Paris. Mademoiselle de Méri went directly
to Madame de Mereuil’s, for her own house was, it seems, in complete
disorder; and Madame de Coulanges, the Abbé Têtu and I, paid some
visits in the country, like Madame de la Fayette at Saint Maur, and
Madame de Schomberg at Rambouillet. I thought of sleeping at Madame de
Coulanges’, but for that night only. I returned here to visit the good
abbé, who has been bled, and is still much indisposed with his cold; I
am sorry I could not help leaving him for this little moment. We live
quite in the open air; all my people are as busy as bees in packing up
for our removal. I encamped in my own bed-chamber; and am now in that
of the _worthy_, my whole furniture being a little table, on which
I now write to you, and that is sufficient. I fancy we shall all be
pleased with our Hôtel de Carnavalet. We think it strange not to have
seen Termes, though we have been home these nine days. It is easy to
guess that he has returned to his college, and that his regent gives
him not a moment’s relaxation. I am not at all sorry, as you may very
well suppose, and shall not reproach him for it; but ask the chevalier,
whether, after the great pleasure he took in talking with me at Vichi,
such extreme indifference be not very singular. It would certainly be
very indiscreet, if the lady stood in need of being directed, and such
conduct would be something to talk of; but it is impossible to do her
any injury. I thought he seemed quite delighted at Vichi, on account
of the vocation as you say, and to be with a good sort of woman, in
full assurance of having no demands made upon him. This repose charmed
him; there is sometimes great pleasure in passing from one extreme to
another. He was mightily taken with the perpetual gossip of Vichi.
You see what the consequence of this has been, at which I am under no
sort of concern, but I tell it you as I do a thousand things else.
When excess and imprudence are pushed to a certain extreme, I am
persuaded they are more injurious to men than women; at least their
fortunes are always sure to pay considerably for it. But let us leave
Termes under the ferula; there is a good deal to be said of another
_old ferula_,[149] which discovers its severity too much. As for you,
my child, you enjoy a real vacation, and make an admirable use of the
fine weather; to dine at home in your own house is a very extraordinary
affair. You write to me from Rochecourbière--what a pretty place to
date from! what a delightful grotto! How amiable you are to remember me
at that delightful place, and to be sorry that I am not there to share
its pleasures with you! Let us leave Providence to dispose of affairs
at his pleasure; we shall see one another again, my love. In the mean
time I shall prepare to receive you at Carnavalet, where I shall again
have the pleasure of rendering you a thousand little services, which
are of no real importance; but I am happy in the opportunity, because
you wrote me word the other day, that little attentions were a stronger
proof of friendship than any other. It is true, we can not set too high
a value upon them; self-love has certainly too large a share in what we
do on great occasions. _Tender interest is swallowed up in pride_; this
is an idea of yours which I would not for the world deprive you of, as
I find my account in it but too well.
[149] This _old ferula_ is apparently the Marchioness de
Castelnau, who was long and publicly the mistress of M. de
Termes. The _Amours des Gaules_, in which this is found, has very
much defamed this marquis. If this part was written by Bussy as
well as the rest, he must have been very wicked, for his letters
show that the Marquis de Termes was his steady friend. He also
possessed all the requisites to excite his jealousy. He was one
of those in whom Boileau acknowledged a superior mind. “M. de
Termes,” said he, “is always of the opinion of others, and this
is true politeness.” (Vide la Boleana.)
I am, in regard to the loss of Bayard, precisely in the same
disposition you guessed I was. Madame de la Fayette is utterly
inconsolable. I have presented your compliments to her. She was then
living on a milk diet, which she has discontinued on account of its
turning acid on her stomach; so that we have lost this sole ground of
hope of the recovery of her desperate state of health. That of M. de
Maine is certainly far from being good. He is at Versailles, where no
one has seen him; they say he walks worse than he did. In short, I
really fancy there is something in it.