PARIS, Wednesday, March 2, 1689.
Shrove-Tuesday is not an indifferent day to Paulina. I can not help
scolding you, my dear child, for not having sent her prettily to the
good Langlée’s, to dance a little with Mademoiselle d’Oraison; what
harm would there have been in allowing her this little pastime? I am
sure this dear child is interesting, that she has a good air, a good
carriage, and even eclipses more regular beauties. I scold you also for
reading all your letters before you go to bed. I know it is scarcely
possible to keep them till the next day; but you must calculate upon
not sleeping, for there will often be many things in them that will
create disagreeable thoughts; nor would it be a whit better if they
contained nothing but reflections and news. Before the imagination
has sifted the contents, the night is gone. As you know all this to
be true, settle the matter for the benefit of your health. I took my
marquis yesterday to Madame du Pui-du-fou’s; she grows very old. M. de
Mirepoix, who had been there once before to see me, came a second time,
and each time his whole conversation turned upon his condescension in
marrying to please his family. The little puppet is dying of the spleen
in this dreary abode. I afterward went to Madame de Lavardin’s, to
whom I remembered you. She embraced your son several times. She loves
you dearly, and so does Madame de Mouci; but this last is in the third
heaven; she has lost a sister, who was a nun, for whom she had very
little regard: I shall make your compliments to her and her learned
brother.[253] The chevalier arrived last night, and is very well;
he will be employed, but he knows not yet in what country; I admire
his courage. Your son is a very agreeable and a very pretty fellow;
he already manages all his affairs, gives orders, makes purchases,
and keeps his accounts; it is a pity his father had not done the
same. The chevalier will inform you what our king said to the King of
England at his taking leave: “Sir, it is with grief I see you depart,
yet I never wish to see you again; but if you return, be assured you
will find me the same as you leave me.” Could any thing better have
been said? He has loaded him with every thing, great and small; two
millions of money, ships, frigates, troops, officers, and M. d’Avaux,
who makes, upon the occasion, one of the most brilliant figures in
the world. I will venture to say that there is no one who would not
be proud of the employment, who would not think it worthy of a man
thoroughly acquainted with business, and capable of giving advice: if
M. de Barillon is not sensible of this he is very happy. I now come to
the minutiæ, such as toilets, camp-beds, services of plate, plain and
gilt, arms for his person, which are the king’s; arms for the troops in
Ireland, and those who go with him, who are very numerous; in short,
generosity, magnificence, and magnanimity were never so strikingly
displayed as upon this occasion. The king is not willing that the queen
should go to Poissi; she will see very little company, but the king
will take care of her, and she will receive news without intermission.
The parting of the King and Queen of England rent the hearts of all the
spectators; nothing but tears, sighs, lamentations, and swoonings were
to be seen or heard, which is very easy to be comprehended. Such is his
destiny. He has a good cause; he is the protector of the true religion,
and his courage will allow him no other alternative than conquest or
death.
[253] Achilles de Harlay, then attorney-general, and afterward
first president in the parliament of Paris, in November, 1689.