him and his retinue in my only chamber; not because I was obliged to make
them all sit down in the midst of my dirty plates and broken pots, but on
account of the state of the floor, which was rotten and falling to ruin,
and I was afraid the weight of his attendants would entirely sink it.
Less concerned on account of my own danger than for that to which the
affability of the marechal exposed him, I hastened to remove him from it
by conducting him, notwithstanding the coldness of the weather, to my
alcove, which was quite open to the air, and had no chimney. When he was
there I told him my reason for having brought him to it; he told it to
his lady, and they both pressed me to accept, until the floor was
repaired, a lodging of the castle; or, if I preferred it, in a separate
edifice called the Little Castle which was in the middle of the park.
This delightful abode deserves to be spoken of.

The park or garden of Montmorency is not a plain, like that of the
Chevrette. It is uneven, mountainous, raised by little hills and
valleys, of which the able artist has taken advantage; and thereby varied
his groves, ornaments, waters, and points of view, and, if I may so
speak, multiplied by art and genius a space in itself rather narrow.
This park is terminated at the top by a terrace and the castle; at bottom
it forms a narrow passage which opens and becomes wider towards the
valley, the angle of which is filled up with a large piece of water.
Between the orangery, which is in this widening, and the piece of water,
the banks of which are agreeably decorated, stands the Little Castle of
which I have spoken. This edifice, and the ground about it, formerly
belonged to the celebrated Le Brun, who amused himself in building and
decorating it in the exquisite taste of architectual ornaments which that
great painter had formed to himself. The castle has since been rebuilt,
but still, according to the plan and design of its first master. It is
little and simple, but elegant. As it stands in a hollow between the