originated from mere timidity. My triumph was complete; the
monarch smiled at and admired every word as it fell from my lips,
kissed my hands, and played with the curls of my long hair,
sportively twisting his fingers amidst my flowing ringlets with
all the vivacity of a lover of twenty. The company upon this
evening was different from that of the former occasion, consisting
of the duc de Duras, first gentleman of the bedchamber, and the
duc d'Ayen, who had the reputation of being a great wit; however,
in my opinion, he was much more deserving the character of a real
fiend; his very breath was poisonous, and his touch venomous as
the bite of an adder. I well remember what M. de Fleury said of
him to the king in my presence. "Sire," said he, "the thing I
most dread in the world next to a bite from M. d'Ayen, is the
bite of a mad dog." For my own part, I did not in the end look
upon him with less terror, and well he paid me for my fears.
Upon one occasion, when the king was speaking of me to him, he
said, "I am well aware that I succeed St. Foix."

"Yes, sire"; replied the duke, "in the same manner as your majesty
succeeds Pharamond!"

I never forgave him those words, dictated by a fiendish malice.
However, upon the evening of my first introduction to him, he
behaved to me with the most marked politeness. I was then an
object of no consequence to his interests, and his vision had not
yet revealed to him the height I was destined to attain. He looked
upon me but as one of those meteors which sparkled and shone in
the castle at Versailles for twenty-four hours, and sank to rise
no more.