"The king likes me," said he, "and I am attached to him body and soul. He tenderly loves you, and I should have no difficulty in doing the same thing; but as I am no longer of an age to inspire you with the passion which I should feel towards you, I content myself with your friendship. I have no enemy here, and no wish to hurt any person. Thus you need not fear that I shall urge you to any measures that might compromise you. It is the hatred of the kingdom that you will have to fear. France is about to march in a better track, and the best plan is to follow its lead. It pains me, madame, to use language which may appear severe to you;we ought only to talk to you of your beauty and the love which it inspires. But in your situation, even that beauty may serve the interests of France, and it is for that motive that I come to solicit you."I replied to M. de Chauvelin with equal frankness. I told him that my sole intentions were to confine myself to the circle of my duties; that I had none but to please the king, and no intention of mixing myself up with state affairs. This was my plan I can assure you. I flattered myself that I could follow it, not dreaming of those political nuisances into which I was precipitated in spite of myself. I added, nevertheless, that in my situation, which was delicate, I would not refuse the counsels of a faithful servant of the king, and that under this title M. de Chauvelin should be consulted on important occasions.
The marquis de Chauvelin had too much good sense, too much knowledge of the world, not to perceive a refusal concealed under this politeness. The secret inclination of my heart had already led me to select the duc d'Aiguillon for my director, and I could not reconcile myself to any other. He contented himself with asking me again for my friendship, which I willingly accorded him, and I have always found myself fortunate in his. Thus did Iaccept the offers of service from the prince de Soubise, the duc de la Vauguyon, and the marquis de Chauvelin.
A fourth sought to swell the ranks; the comte, afterwards prince, de Montbarrey. This gentleman made up in pretensions for what he lacked in talent. He was weak, self-important, selfish, fond of women, and endeavored to preserve all the airs of a man of good breeding in the midst of the grossest debauchery. He was full of respect for himself and his house, of which in time of need he could cite the whole genealogy. His nomination was a real scandal;no one dreamt of his ever being minister of war. It was one of the thousand follies of old Maurepas, whom the late king knew well, and called the ballad-maker of the council.
The comte de Montbarrey, whom I had known at Paris, came to me one fine day, fully powdered, perfumed, and apparelled. He had a smile on his lip, a loud tone, and an insolent look. He came not to ask my friendship, but my obedience. He told me that he loved me to distraction, and of course my head must be equally towards him. He amused me. I let him run out the full length of his line;and when he had spun it all out, I said to him, "Monsieur, be so good as to call me to the recollection of madame de Merfort."She was one of the gambling ladies, and at her house I had formerly met the chevalier de Montbarrey. My reply confoundedhim: he saw that he had gone the wrong way to work with me;and, raising the siege, he left me excessively embarrassed.
Figure to yourself, my friend, what confidence a man, lost in the crowd of lower courtiers, could inspire me with; for to judge of the proceedings of the comte de Montbarrey, it would have been necessary to have seen him as he then was, and not what he became since the imbecility of M. de Maurepas. When I told comte Jean of his visit, he would not believe such insolence. You must know that my brother-in-law also wished to direct me, but I did not consider him sufficiently clever. His marvellous genius was eclipsed in politics. He swore at my ingratitude, and I could only appease him by an offering of plenty of money.
In the midst of this cross-fire of intrigues, one was devised against me which might have terminated in my ruin; but, thanks to the indefatigable activity of comte Jean, only served to fix me more firmly in my situation. Lebel, of whom I have said nothing for this age, came to me one day: his face was sad, and his look serious. By his manner I augured that my reign had passed, and that I must quit my post. I awaited what he should say with mortal impatience. At length he began thus:
"Madame, you have many bitter enemies, who are laboring to effect your ruin with a blood-thirstiness which nothing can assuage.
They have now spread a report that you are not married. This infamous calumny--""Ah, is that all?' said I with joy; "no, my dear Lebel, this time they do not calumniate me. The worthy creatures for once are right.""What," said Lebel, in a tone of alarm almost comic, "what, are you really not married?""No."
"Are you not the wife of the comte Guillaume du Barry?""No."
"Then you have deceived the king, and played with me.""Lebel, my friend, take another tone. No one has any right to complain. You have given me to the king as a person to please him; I do so. The rest can be no matter of yours.""Pardon me, madame; it is a matter of the greatest consequence to me. I am terribly compromised in this affair, and you with me."Lebel told me that the duchesse de Grammont had begged him to call upon her, and had bitterly reproached him about the mistress he had procured for the king; the duchesse affirmed that I was a nameless and unmarried creature; and added, that it was his duty to make the king acquainted with these particulars, unless I, the pretended wife of du Barry, would consent to go to England when a large pension should be assured to me.
"No, my dear Lebel, I will not go to England; I will remain in France, at Versailles, at the chateau. If I am not married I will be; the thing is easily managed."Lebel. somewhat assured, begged me to send for comte Jean, and when he came he (Lebel) recommenced his tale of grief.
