Final Rupture.--Terrible Scene.--Madame de Maintenon in the Brocaded Chair.
To-day, when time and reflection, and, perhaps, that fund of contempt which is so useful, have finally revealed to me the insurmountable necessities of life, I can look with a certain amount of composure at the; injury which the King did me. I had at first resolved to conclude, with the chapter which you have just read, my narrative of the more or less important things which have passed or been unfolded before my eyes.
For long I did not feel myself strong enough to approach a narrative which might open up all my old wounds and make my blood boil again; but Ifinished by considering that our monarch's reign will be necessarily the subject of a multitude of commentaries, journals, and memoirs. All these confidential writings will speak of me to the generations to be; some will paint me as one paints an object whom one loves; others, as the object one detests. The latter, to render me more odious, will probably revile my character, and, perhaps, represent me as a cowardly and despairing mistress, who has descended even to supplications!! It is my, part, therefore, to retrace with a firm and vigorous hand this important epoch of my life, where my destiny, at once kind and cruel, reduced me to treat the greatest of all Kings both as my equal and as an inconstant friend, as a treacherous enemy, and as my inferior or subject. He had, at first, the intention of putting me to death,--of that I am persuaded, --but soon his natural gentleness got the better of his pride. He grasped the wounds in my heart from the deplorable commotion of my face.
If his former friend was guilty in her speech, he was far more guilty by his actions. Like an equitable judge he pardoned neither of us; he did not forgive himself and he dared not condemn me.
Since this sad time of desertion and sorrow, into which the new state of things had brought me, MM. de Mortemart, de Nevers, and de Vivonne had been glad to avoid me. They found my humour altered, and I admit that a woman who sulks, scolds, or complains is not very attractive company.
One day the poor Marechal de Vivonne came to see me; he opened my shutters to call my attention to the beauty of the sky, and, my health seeming to him a trifle poor, he suggested to me to embark at once in his carriage and to go and dine at Clagny. I had no will left that day, so Iaccompanied my brother.
Being come to Clagny, the Marshal, having shut himself up with me in his closet, said to me the words which follow:
"You know, my, sister, how all along you have been dear to me; the grief which is wearing you out does me almost as much harm as you. To-day Iwish to hurt you for your own good; and get you away from this locality in spite of yourself. Kings are not to be opposed as we oppose our equals; our King, whom you know by heart, has never suffered contradiction. He has had you asked, two or three times already, to leave his palace and to go and live on your estates. Why do you delay to satisfy him, and to withdraw from so many eyes which watch you with pity?""The King, I am very sure, would like to see me away," I replied to the Marshal, "but he has never formally expressed himself, and it is untrue that any such wish has been intimated or insinuated to me.""What! you did not receive two letters last year, which invited you to make up your mind and retire!""I received two anonymous letters; nothing is more true. Could those two letters have been sent to me by the King himself?""The Marquis de Chamarante wrote them to you, but beneath the eyes, and at the dictation, of his Majesty.""All, God! What is it you tell me? What! the Marquis de Chamarante, whom I thought one of my friends, has lent himself to such an embassy!""The Marquis is a good man, a man of honour; and his essential duty is to please his sovereign, his master. Moreover, at the time when the letters were sent you, time remained to you for deliberation. To-day, all time for delay has expired; you must go away of your own free will, or receive the affront of a command, and a 'lettre de cachet' in form.""A 'lettre de cachet' for me! for the mother of the Duc du Maine and the Comte de Toulouse! We shall see that, my brother! We shall see!""There is nothing to see or do but to summon here all your people, and leave to-morrow, either for my chateau of Roissy, or for your palace at Petit-Bourg; things are pressing, and the day after to-morrow I will explain all without any secrecy.""Explain it to me at once, my brother, and I promise to satisfy you.""Do you give me your word?"
"I give it you, my good and dear friend, with pleasure. Inform me of what is in progress.""Madame de Maintenon, whom, having loved once greatly, you no longer love, had the kindness to have me summoned to her this morning.""The kindness!"
"Do not interrupt me--yes, the kindness. From the moment that she is in favour, all that comes from her requires consideration. She had me taken into her small salon, and there she charged me to tell you that she has always loved you, that she always will; that your rupture with her has displeased the King; that for a long time, and on a thousand occasions, she has excused you to his Majesty, but that things are now hopeless;that your retreat is required at all costs, and that it will be joined with an annual pension of six hundred thousand livres.""And you advise me--?" I said to my brother.
"I advise you, I implore you, I conjure you, to accept these propositions which save everything."My course was clear to me on the instant. Wishing to be relieved of the importunities of the Marshal (a courtier, if ever there was one), Iembraced him with tears in my eyes. I assured him that, for the honour of the family and out of complacence, I accepted his propositions. Ibegged him to take me back to Versailles, where I had to gather together my money, jewels, and papers.
