She forever kept repeating her favourite argument, saying, "Good
gracious! suppose you should die in that state!"

I replied that it was not my fault, as I had never ceased to obey the
precepts of the Holy Church. "It was my old father-confessor," said I,
"the Canon of Saint Thomas du Louvre, who had harshly refused to confess
me."

"What he does," replied she, "is solely for your own good."

"But if he has only my well-being in view," I quickly retorted, "why did
not he think of this at first? It would have been far better to have
stopped me at the outset, instead of letting me calmly proceed upon my
career. He is obeying the Queen's orders, or else those of that Abbe
Bossuet de Mauleon, who no longer dares attack me to my face."

As we thus talked, the Duc de Vivonne came into my room. Learning the
topic of our discussion, he spoke as follows: "I should not be general of
the King's Galleys and a soldier at heart and by profession if my opinion
in this matter were other than it is. I have attentively read
controversies on this point, and have seen it conclusively proved that
our kings never kept a confessor at Court. Among these kings, too, there
were most holy, most saintly people, and--"

"Then, what do you conclude from that, Duke?" asked Madame de Maintenon.

"Why, that Madame will do well to respect his Majesty the King as her
father-confessor."