"Ah, Sire, do not wound me! I fling myself at your feet. Have
compassion upon M. de Lauzun, and pity my tears. Do not exercise your
power; let him be the consolation of my life; let me marry him."

The King, no longer able to hide his disgust and impatience, said,
"Cousin, you are now a good forty-four years old; at that age you ought
to be able to take care of yourself. Spare me all your grievances, and
do what pleases you."

On leaving Mademoiselle, he came to my apartment and told me about all
this nonsense. I then informed him of what I had heard by letter the day
before. Lauzun, while still carrying on with the fastest ladies of the
Court and the town, had just wheedled the Princess into making him a
present of twenty millions,--a most extravagant gift.

"This is too much!" exclaimed the King; and he at once caused a letter to
be despatched to Mademoiselle and her lover, telling them that their
intimacy must cease, and that things must go no farther.

But the audacious Lauzun found means to suborn a well-meaning simpleton
of a priest, who married them secretly the very same day.

The King's indignation and resentment may well be imagined. He had his
captain of the guard arrested and sent as a prisoner to Pignerol.

On this occasion, M. de Lauzun complained bitterly of me; he invented the
most absurd tales about me, even saying that he had struck me in my own
apartments, after taunting me to my face with "our old intimacy."