On going out into society, I heard everybody talking everywhere about M.
Fouquet. They praised his good-nature, his affability, his talents, his
magnificence, his wit. His post as Surintendant-General, envied by a
thousand, provoked indeed a certain amount of spite; yet all such vain
efforts on the part of mediocrity to slander him troubled him but little.
My lord the Cardinal (Mazarin. D.W.) was his support, and so long as the
main column stood firm, M. Fouquet, lavish of gifts to his protector, had
really nothing to fear.

This minister also largely profited by the species of fame to be derived
from men of letters. He knew their venality and their needs. His
sumptuous, well-appointed table was placed in grandiose fashion at their
disposal. Moreover, he made sure of their attachment and esteem by fees
and enormous pensions. The worthy La Fontaine nibbled like others at the
bait, and at any rate paid his share of the reckoning by the most profuse
gratitude. M. Fouquet had one great defect: he took it into his head
that every woman is devoid of will-power and of resistance if only one
dazzle her eyes with gold. Another prejudice of his was to believe, as
an article of faith, that, if possessed of gold and jewels, the most
ordinary of men can inspire affection.

Making this twofold error his starting-point as a principle that was
incontestable, he was wont to look upon every beautiful woman who
happened to appear on the horizon as his property acquired in advance.

At Madame's, he saw Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and instantly sent her
his vows of homage and his proposals.

To his extreme astonishment, this young beauty declined to understand
such language. Couched in other terms, he renewed his suit, yet