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Memoirs of the Courts of Louis XV and XVI. Being secret memoirs of Madame Du Hausset, lady's maid to Madame de Pompadour, and of the Princess Lamballe — Volume 2 by Mme. Du Hausset
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the Archbishop, which he was enabled to do by means of the information he
had obtained concerning the conduct of the lady, his protege. She was
found guilty of swindling, in concert with her beloved valet; but, before
her punishment was inflicted, the Lieutenant of Police was ordered to lay
before Monseigneur a full account of the conduct of his relation and
pensioner. The Archbishop had nothing to object to in the proofs which
were submitted to him; he said, with perfect calmness, that she was not
his relation; and, raising his hands to heaven, "She is an unhappy
wretch," said he, "who has robbed me of the money which was destined for
the poor. But God knows that, in giving her so large a pension, I did
not act lightly. I had, at that time, before my eyes the example of a
young woman who once asked me to grant her seventy louis a year,
promising me that she would always live very virtuously, as she had
hitherto done. I refused her, and she said, on leaving me, 'I must turn
to the left, Monseigneur, since the way on the right is closed against
me: The unhappy creature has kept her word but too well. She found means
of establishing a faro-table at her house, which is tolerated; and she
joins to the most profligate conduct in her own person the infamous trade
of a corrupter of youth; her house is the abode of every vice. Think,
sir, after that, whether it was not an act of prudence, on my part, to
grant the woman in question a pension, suitable to the rank in which I
thought her born, to prevent her abusing the gifts of youth, beauty, and
talents, which she possessed, to her own perdition, and the destruction
of others." The Lieutenant of Police told the King that he was touched
with the candour and the noble simplicity of the prelate. "I never
doubted his virtues," replied the King, "but I wish he would be quiet."
This same Archbishop gave a pension of fifty louis a year to the greatest
scoundrel in Paris. He is a poet, who writes abominable verses; this
pension is granted on condition that his poems are never printed. I
learned this fact from M. de Marigny, to whom he recited some of his
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