PARIS, Monday, January 17, 1689.
My letter, then, is dignified with a title; this is a proof of its
singular merit. I am glad my story amused you. I can never guess at the
effect my letters will produce, but this has been a happy one.
If you sought an opportunity of coming to an explanation with the
archbishop, instead of suffering the misunderstanding which people
endeavor to create between you to ferment, a short time would clear
up the whole, or you would silence chatterers; either of these is
desirable, and you will find good result from it; you will put an
end, it is true, to the amusements of the Provençals; but it is only
silencing ridiculous impertinence. M. de Barillon is arrived; he has
found a family group, with many of whose faces he was not acquainted.
He is grown very fat, and said to M. de Harlai, “Sir, do not remind
me of my fat, and I will say nothing to you of your lean.” He is very
lively, and much of the same disposition as his namesake whom you know.
I will pay all your compliments to him, when they will not appear
forced; I have done so with regard to Madame de Sully, who returns you
a thousand with a very good grace; and to the countess,[247] who is
too witty upon M. de Lauzun, whom she wished to raise to the pinnacle
of honor, and who has neither an apartment at Versailles, nor the free
admittance he formerly had. He is merely returned to court, and his
exploit does not appear so extraordinary, though a very pretty romance
was at first made out of it.
[247] The Countess de Fiesque, the constant friend of M. de
Lauzun, and who often performed the part of mediatrix between him
and mademoiselle.
The English court is quite established at St. Germain; they would not
accept more than 15,000 livres a month, and have regulated their court
upon that foundation. The queen is very much liked; our king converses
very pleasantly with her; she has good sense without affectation. The
king wished the dauphiness to pay her the first visit, but she was
always so conveniently indisposed, that this queen paid her a visit
three days ago, admirably dressed; a black velvet robe, a beautiful
petticoat, her hair tastefully disposed, a figure like the Princess
de Conti’s, and great dignity of manner. The king received her as she
alighted; she went first into his apartment, where she had a chair
below the king’s; here she remained half an hour; he then conducted her
to the dauphiness, who was up; this occasioned a little surprise; the
queen said to her, “I expected to have found you in bed, madam.” “I
wished to rise, madam,” replied the dauphiness, “to receive the honor
your majesty does me.” The king left them, as the dauphiness has no
chair in his presence. The queen took her place, with the dauphiness on
her right hand, madame on her left, and there were three other chairs
for the three young princes. They conversed together for upward of
half an hour; several duchesses were present, and the court was very
numerous. At length she retired; the king gave orders to be informed
of it, and handed her back to her carriage. I do not know how far the
dauphiness went with her, but I shall hear. The king, upon his return,
highly praised the queen; he said, “This is how a queen ought to be,
both in person and mind, holding her court with dignity.” He admired
her courage in misfortunes, and her affection for her husband; for
it is certain that she loves him, as that hateful woman, Madame de
R***, told you. Some of our ladies who wished to assume the airs of
princesses, did not kiss the queen’s robe, some of the duchesses wished
to avoid it also; but the king was displeased at this, and they now pay
her homage. Madame de Chaulnes has been informed of these particulars,
but has not yet performed this duty.