THEIR Britannic Majesties had no sooner quitted London, and dispossessed themselves of Three Kingdoms, but [...]ey were received at Paris by all the [...]ourt. Where the French King, to [...]ssen their Sorrows, endeavoured by [...] the most engaging ways in the World, [...] asswage their Grief, which their se­ [...]ration from Enthronement might oc­ [...]sion; and to that effect, after he had [...]ven K. James, and the Queen his Con­ [...]rt, all the Demonstrations of Bro­therly [Page 4]Friendship, accompany'd with an Extraordinary Generosity, 'twas His Majesties Pleasure to make 'em partak­ers of all the Pleasures and most Charm­ing Pastimes of his Court. Among the rest our Monarch propos'd to the Q. now fled to him for Succour, the Divertisements of Amorous Courtship and other Re­creations, as the most acceptable means to allay the Anguish of her Troubles. Nor did the Queen, who had always an inclination leaning that way, make any great Resistance; which extreamly pleased the King, who was not altoge­ther insensible of a growing Kindness for her, and who had given her certain proofs of it since her arrival in France. Some time after their Abode at St. Ger­mains, which is the place of their Resi­dence, the King ordered the Archbishop of Paris, and the Bishop of Meaux to visit their Majesties, and to infuse into 'em that Patience which was necessary for good Catholicks. And that Illustri­ous Prelate employed a World of Elo­quence to make it out to the King and Queen from Examples in History, that they were not the only Princes who had lost their Crowns, and that it was a glorious thing to suffer the Crosses and [Page 5]Afflictions of this Life with Constancy, and without Murmuring. Which done he took his leave, deeply smitt'n with the Merits of that Princess who had made appear so much Solidity in all her Discourse, and convinced him that the Court of France was not the only place that monopolized all that was worthy of Esteem and Love.

It may be therefore said, That from that very Day the Queen knew how to manage her Conquest, and preserve it: And in regard she is an Italian, as being the Duke of Modena's Daughter, and nearly related to the Pope, she carry'd her self with a great deal of Address and Artifice. Nor would the Reverend Fathers the Jesuits be silent upon such an occasion as this; every one would go to pay their Respects to their Majesties, more especially the Fathers La Chaise and Bourdalou made it a considerable part of their business, as they that took great delight to report their Observations to the King. And indeed the frequent Vi­sits of our Monarch, the Dauphin, and all the Ladies, caused the Queen to for­get a good part of her Sorrows. The Princes of Conti, and Espinoi propound­ed to her Hunting Matches with the [Page 6]Dutchess of Orleans, who prefers Hunt­ing before all other Sports in the World, as being frequently at the Head of the Hounds, Apparell'd like the rest of the Huntsmen.

At St. Clou's it was, where first they tasted those Country Pleasures, which were attended with a Ball, and a magni­ficent Banquet, the Violins and Haut­boys playing all the Night. The Fair Ladies who were the Ornament of that Festival, appear'd in all their Splendor. More particularly the Countess de Rourre display'd all her Excellencies in that Charming Assembly, and in regard she is none of the most Accomplish'd Beau­ties, she made the best of her pleasant Humour, much more amiable than her Features. The Danphin, who has more than ordinary kindness for her, never left her, and gave her to understand by many pretty Amorous Intimations, how much he Lov'd her; but the Princess of Lislebonne, and the Marchioness of Segna­lay, who had a watchful Eye upon 'em, ever and anon would needs be interrupt­ing the Monsieurs tender and passionate Expressions, which very much disgusted Madam de Rourre; insomuch that she made her Complaint to the Princess of [Page 7] Conti, who is the Duphin's Confident, telling her, That she was very Unfortu­nate to be so narrowly observed, even to the slightest of her Actions, which cau­sed the Princess to Laugh, who in that merry fit went immediately and made the King acquainted with the Countess's Grievances. The King made himself sport with it, and because they thought the Dauphin far remote from any Vio­lent Engagement, they forbore to watch him so narrowly; wherein the Court was deceived; for they found by the sequel, that the young Prince was as sen­sible of Love as other Men; which we shall indeavour to shew in the follow­ing Relations.

Let us return to the Queen, whom our Arcbishop had not the power to for­sake, without speaking of that Love which reign'd so predominantly in his Heart. But in regard that Prelates have not the Liberty which others have to express their Amorous Thougths, the Archbishop was contented with enjoy­ing the Presence of her who had wound­ed his Heart: Only Sighs and Languish­ing Looks were the Faithful Interpreters of his Passion, while he still observed [Page 8]those measures that suited best with his Character.

But the Queen, who is expert in the Affair of Gallantry, soon Divin'd the meaning of his mute Language, as ha­ving an Inclination sufficiently prone to embrace the Sanctify'd Love of Men of the Church, which encloses within it unknown Mysteries. She had not for­got the sweet Hours she had past away with her dear Nuncio Dada, whom the Pope had sent into England, to manage his Interests. For which reason it was, that she gladly and joyfully admitted Monsieur the Archbishop's Visits, and went oftner in her Coach to hear Mass and Vespers in the Convent of the Austin-Fryars, attended by her Confident the Marchioness of P—s. Love and De­votion were in her inseparable, through a Secret Union; which usually happens in Italy, where the Churches are the pla­ces of meeting for the carrying on of Love Intrigues. The Respect our Prelate had for a Princess so haughty and so handsome restrain'd him from telling her what he felt for her sake. But when he bethought himself that a Person of his Character had been belov'd, those Idea's fortify'd her Hopes, and rendered him [Page 9]more undaunted in his Enterprize. On the other side the change of her For­tune, and the Passion which a certain English Lord has for that Charming Princess, and her Courtly manner of an­swering his Caresses, perswaded the Archbishop that he had not long to sigh in vain. So that at last the happy Mi­nute arrived, and the Archbishop made known his Tender Sentiments to his Di­vine Queen.

One Day that King James was at Marly, with the Duke of Vendosme, Grand Prior of France, the Count of St. Maure, and several Lords of the Court, the Archbishop, whom the Qu. had made acquainted with it in the Morning, giving him withal to under­stand, with a Graceful Aire, That she should be glad of his Company in the Afternoon, being all alone at St. Ger­main's, our Archbishop, I say, upon these Encouragements, let her see by a profound Obeysance and a low Bow, that his Heart was brim-full of Joy, and that he would not fail to make the best of his Opportunity. To which pur­pose he ordered his Lacqueys to change their Liveries, and being himself muf­fled up in a Scarlet Cloak, that he might [Page 10]in some measure disguise himself, and deceive the People, who will always be pratling, especially at Paris, he entered the Castle, and meeting the Marchioness of P—s, who was in the Anti-Cham­ber with one of the Queens Maids of Honour, he gave her a Smile, as he gently push'd open the Door of the Ca­binet, where our Princess sate Reading the Amours of Henry IV. very much wond [...]ing at his Inconstancy, and the number of his Mistresses, which made her Laugh, when she began to consider how little reason Ladies had to rely up­on the Passion and Affections of Men. Monsieur, the Archbishop, after he had Saluted the Queen, opened his Heart, and gave her to understand some part of his pains. To which the Princess, be­holding him with a tender Look, made answer, That she would see what might be done to render him less unhappy. Our Prelate seemed to be ravished with the Charms of her soft Expressions, and presently throwing himself at her Feet, embrac'd her knees, and kissing her hands a thousand times, protested to her that he never was so deeply in Love in his Life before. Then they laid their Heads together to consider which way they [Page 11]might fee one another, without being discovered by the Court. But it was a difficult matter to deceive the Hundred-Ey'd Argus's which our Monarch has prying about in all parts, to the end that nothing may escape him that is transacted in the City. At length the Queen told her new Lover, after she had pondered a while, That it would be the best way for him to disguise himself sometimes like a Musick Master, for that she being a passionate Lover of Musick, neither the King her Husband, nor any body else would take any notice of him; or else like a Bookseller that brought her Novels and Histories to read. This pro­posal was well approved; but the Que­stion was, How to carry the Business neatly. To which purpose every thing was just concluded upon, when a Gen­tleman brought the Queen Letters from the Countess of Tyrconnel, who had been one of her Maids of Honour, and whom the King had Marry'd to his Deputy of Ireland.

The Queen was overjoy'd to hear Ty­dings from her dear Friend, who had serv'd her in several perilous occasions, no less sorry that she had her not then with her to assist her in the present Intrigue, [Page 12]being well assured, That that same Lady would have been a great help to her, as being one that perfectly knew how to counterfeit Devotion, and talked of nothing else but the Holy Fathers of the Church, and of their Sufferings. King James being returned from Marly, took great delight in giving the Queen an Account of the Pastime he had taken in that little Journey, and how kindly he had been entertain'd by the Duke of Vendosme and the Count of St. Maure. The good Prince related every Passage with the greatest Candor and Free­dom in the World, never dreaming of the Amorous Commerce of his tender Consort, who every way endeavoured to fulfil the King her Husband's Pro­phesie.

For one Morning that K. James, then only Duke of York, and a Widower, was walking in the Long-Gallery next to St. James's- Park, with some others of the Nobility: it so fell out that he met with an Astrologer in that place. The Duke of York perceiving a great Throng of People-gathered together, and curi­ous to know the reason of the noise they made, went up directly to the Crowd with his Company, and asked, [Page 13]What the matter was? At what time a Gentleman told him, That they had got among 'em a Famous Astrologer, who saw in the Face of any man what would befal him in his Life time. This created in the Duke a desire to know his own Destiny, so that he commanded the Wi­zard to attend him after Dinner, which the Old South-sayer did. He excused himself however as long as he could, alledging the danger of telling Princes and Princesses their Fortunes, for that being exposed to the Capricio's of For­tune as well as other Men, the Truth was not many times to be spoken.

But the unwillingness of the Astrolo­ger encreasing the Duke of York's desire, he prest the Artist so much the more earnestly, and giving him his Hand told him withal, That whatever the Planets had appointed for him, he would take it in good part. Then the Astrologer looking stedfastly in the Duke's Face, uttered this Oracle, That if there were any Truth in the Stars, he would be in danger of Acte­on 's Fate, whenever he should chance to see a Diana Naked in the Bath. Upon which all the Nobility that were present fell a Laughing, and a long time after in their [Page 14]Merriments made Sport with the Astro­loger and his Prediction. Some Years after this, when the thing was in a man­ner forgot, the D. of York went to the Bath, either for his Health, or for his Pleasure, and there, never dreaming of the Prophesie, by an Accident beheld a Lovely Young Lady, and of great Qua­lity, Naked in one of the Baths, who Chid him for not withdrawing from the place, considering the Condition she was in. So that the satisfaction which the Duke had in staring upon a Beauti­ful and Charming Lady in the State of Innocence, concurr'd to make out the truth of an Unlucky Prediction.

Let us now leave K. James II. to bla­zon his new Coat of Arms, and let us endeavour to shew how it was enlarg'd and beautify'd by the number of his Dear Consorts Favourites. Monsieur the Arcbishop having upon a St. John's Day cast several passionate Looks upon the Queen in the Church, which were observ'd by the Dauphin and the Duke of Vendosm his Minion, those two No­ble Personages, so soon as Sermon was done, went to walk in the Louvre, Laughing all the while at the Prelates Amours. A very fine Business, cry'd [Page 15]the Dauphin, You see the Ecclesiasticks are subject to the same Temptations as we are our selves. I remember I have heard it said at Court, that the Abbot of Bois Robert sha­red with Cardinal Mazarine, who was a Man of a wonderful Devotion, the Favours of the Beautiful Marion de l'Orme. By my Faith, reply'd the Duke smiling, since you assure me 'tis so, I'll try to be our Arch­bishop's Rival: We are good Friends enough to have one Mistress between us. Go on, said the Dauphin to the Duke, clapping him upon the Shoulder, go and push on your Good Fortune, if the Conquest pleases you. This Discourse would have lasted longer, but the vast number of People that meet in the Louvre, caused our two Sparks to take Coach again, and drive from thence to the Princess of Turennes, whom they found walking in one of the Alleys in her Garden. So soon as the Dauphin saw her, What, Madam, said he, taking the fresh Air all alone?— Yes, Sir, answer'd she, I came out of my Cabinet to divert my Melancholy. What is the cause of your Disquiet, Madam, that makes you so Contemplative, reply'd the Dauphin, if we may be permitted to en­quire. Oh, Sir, — reply'd the Prin­cess, the Insensibility of your Heart will not [Page 16]give you leave to understand it. Monsieur would have unfolded his Sentiments to the Princess of Turenne, when the Count of St. Maure entered the Garden, who proposed a Game at Cards, which took up the rest of the Day very pleasantly; only the Princess could not be reconcil'd to her self for having gone so far in di­scovering her tender Affection for the Dauphin, who so ill requited it. He was so taken up with the Favours Ma­dam de Rourre bestowed upon him, and whom he sincerely Loved even before she was Marry'd, when she was only one of the Dauphinesses Maids of Honour, that he very little minded the Caresses of o­thers.

Mademoiselle de la Force, now Made­moiselle de Rourre, was always so full of her Wanton Tricks, and such a Coc­quet with all, that every time she saw the Monsieur, if he were not in Com­pany with the Dauphiness, that Incom­parable Lady had still something to say to the Dauphin so divertising, that she made him Laugh. For which reason it was that the Court gave her the Epi­thite of the Witty Jester. But this Gay­ety included within it an Ambitious de­sign: For it was to ensnare the Dau­phin's [Page 17]Heart that the young Artist laid her Springes; wherein she has succeeded to a Miracle; since tis certain that the Illustrious Dauphin has smitten her in the most sensible part.

But to return to the Princess of Tu­renne, she had taken another way to stop the Career of the Prince's Affection. She had shewed him the strength of her first Passion, in telling him, That her Re­pose depended upon an Auspicious Glance, an endearing cast of his Eyes, to which the Monsieur did not answer like a Graceful Courtier, which drew upon him the Raillery of some Unlucky Lampoons.

The Prince of Turenne desirous of a secret Revenge, had offered his Vows to the Countess of Bourre, who had allow­ed 'em a favourable Reception, which extreamly perplexed the Count her Husband, who was a Good Man, that could have loved an Honest Woman. I must leave the rest for a while, to find out our Sorbonne Doctor, who was busi­ly employ'd in composing a Letter as tender as his Heart, to be sent to the Queen at St. Germains, whom he had not seen since the Day before. We im­part [Page 18]it to the Reader as it came to o [...] Hands.

Our Prelate sent this Letter to th [...] Queen by one of his Lacqueys, whom he ordered to change his Livery, and [Page 19]put on the Marchioness of Signalay's Co­lours, who frequently visited the Queen, and sent her little Presents almost every Day. And the new Lover of an Arch­bishop followed the Lacquey almost at the Heels.

Monsieur the Archbishop had for that Day laid aside his Gravity and his Pon­tifical Habits to Apparel himself like a Bookseller that furnished the Queen with new Books. No Man in the World could have better disguised himself then our Doctor of the Sorbonne. Mrs. La­bady who is one of the Queens Women, knew him not in that Disfigurement, but carry'd him into her Mistresses Cabinet, without any Ceremony. Nor did the Queen give him any other than a cold Reception in her rising up to Salute him. Whither it were that the Prelate did not please her in that same Dress of a Citizen, or that the News which she re­ceived every Day from England and Ire­land, where Affairs went no way to her satisfaction, had put her into an ill Hu­mour, or whither it were that the last Visits of this same Gallant, with his Spectacles upon his Nose, had cool'd her Ardour, not finding in him the Brisk­ness of a Youthful Champion, nor the [Page 20]Charming Vigour of her Adonis Dada In short our Adorable Venus could not endure the Amorous Caresse of the Sor­bonne Doctor, without some kind of Un­easiness, which was a great trouble to [...] him, and forced him to ask her the [...] cause of her coldness. Ah, Madam [...] cry'd the Prelate all inflamed, I Lov [...] you to that degree that never Woman wa [...] more beloved, Wherefore do you not answe [...] the Violence of my Passion?

The Queen who saw that her Reluct­ancy had warmed the Heart and Impagi­nation of her Lover, and that he began to be impatient, granted what he de­manded, most tenderly embracing him Which overjoy'd the Roman Patriarch, so that he Kiss'd his Lovely Goddess a [...] thousand times as she sate upon his knee [...] Thus Charm'd with his Good Fortune, at length he took his leave of the Queen [...] hearing that Lewis XIV. was coming to give her a Visit. Alas! (said he in a great Fume) What a World of Measure are we bound to observe? My Misfortune re­duces me to keep fair with a World of People for whom I have no kindness! Strange for of Politicks! Now St. Mary of Lorette [...] have pity upon me. The Queen was also making her Devout Lamentations, when [Page 21]the K. surpriz'd her, and ask'd her with whom she was talking so dolefully. Sir, said she, I was praying to our good Saint of Loretto that she would vouchsafe to restore me to my Throne. Oh, Madam, reply'd his Majesty, drawing his Sword, this same Steel shall revenge your Cause in due time. The Queen seemed surpriz'd and admiring the King's Valour, Sir, said she, with a smile, put up your Sword a­gainst the time of Battle; which the Hector of Tory did accordingly.

The Queen who was tyr'd out with the Complacency which she had been forced to shew the Archbishop held no long Discourse with our Monarch, who could not divine the reason of his Mi­stresses unequal Temper. As for the Roman Doctor who was gone to one of his Friends Houses to shift himself, and [...]eassume his Sacerdotal Vestments, be­ [...]ore he could return to his Palace, he was much troubled when he understood by Mr. Vincent his Valet de Chambre, that [...]e had been stay'd for all the Day at the [...]orbonne about Business relating to the Church, and that the Bishop of Meaux [...]ad been seeking for him up and down [...]om place to place to speak with him.

Aboutthe same time the Duke of Ven­dosme, who had told the Dauphin in Merriment, that he intended to be the Archbishop's Rival, went to St. Ger­mains with a design to tell his Bale to the Queen, and found his Courtly Ad­dresses not ill repay'd. But that same Crafty Gallant, who understood per­fectly well what belonged to Amorous [...]amiliarities, found that Princess too deeply learned in Love, which disgust­ed him, and caused him to return to his Amiable Nanon de Bois, a Taylors Daughter in the Fauxburgh St. Antoine. Well—said the Grand Prior of France, the Favours of my pretty Nanon are worth all the Leavings of an Italian that has part­ed with her Honesty. He therefore made the Dauphin and the Count of St. Maure privy to the Secret, who took a more than ordinary Delight to make sport with it, by causing several Satyrical Lampoons to be thrown in at the Win­dows and into the Porches of the Arch­bishop's Palace; among which this that follows was one.

This Reproach put the Prelate into [...]ind of Fet, not being able to Divine [...]m whence it came. But at length he [...]forted up himself, as being accu­ [...]med to Coourtly Intreagues, which he [...] very private, never making any [...] of 'em; such were those of the [...]chioness of Bretonvillers, the Abbess [...] Montmartre, the Pretty Sempstress, [...] the Beautiful Embroideress, whom [...] went to visit so soon as it began to [...] Duskish.

This formal piece of outward Devo­ [...] was afraid least it should be pub­ [...]ly reported, that he lighted his Ta­ [...] before the Queens Altar; which [...]ld have rendered several She-Saints [Page 24]jealous of his carrying his Holy Water so far as St. Germains. All these Pious and Moral Considerations somewhat slackened our Doctor's Affection, toge­ther with the coldness of his Mistress, whose Politicks would not permit her to loose him quite, tho she cared not so much for continual Lip to Lip with an Old Sanctify'd Fornicator. In short Monsieur the Archbishop forbore to visit the Queen any more, unless it were to carry her his Benediction upon noted Holydays, or to ferret the Evil Spirits out of her chamber. On the other side our Princess who was a Passionate Lover of Amorous Combats, and who could not forbear the having still some worthy Champions under her Standards, soon after declared War against another Loving Enemy. It happened then that this same tender Amazon had chafed her self to that degree in the Field of Venus that she fell sick. For her Victory ha­ving enliven'd, her she felt some effects of the heat of the Combat, which caused her to keep her Bed for some time: However she was visited all the while by the Reverend Father, Jesuits and others in Religious Orders. But not one of those Holy Fathers could comfort her [Page 25]with all their Learning. There was on­ly one young Curate of St. Martin, whom that Princess had heard preach, who could instruct her, at least as well as the Life of Clement VI. which she fre­quently read, who commanded the An­gels to carry into Paradise those that Dy'd coming in Pilgrimage to Rome.

This Young Priest was a Marry Com­panion, well shap'd, having a good Aspect, very Fair, and much a Courtier. He needed no more to Charm beyond mea­sure a Woman of her Humour, who could not live without Square Caps, or Swords to guard her from the Fears that her Husbands ill success inspired into her. For which reason it was that the Lovely Patient in the time of her sickness mu­stered up together all the rare Qualities of her Amiable Curate. She also told her Confident the Marchioness of P—s, [...]hat she could not forget the Sermon she [...]ad heard at St. Martins; that ever since, [...]er Heart had been warm'd with an Ar­ [...]ent Devotion, and that she should be [...]verjoy'd to see, in her sickness, that [...]owerful Preacher.

The Marchioness who understood [...]er, lookt upon her with a fixt Eye, [...]nd falling into a Laughter, told her she [Page 26]would do her Endeavour that she should have the Benediction of the Pious Cu­rate when she pleased. Ah Marchioness, reply'd the Queen, thou speakest this mer­rily and laughing, but I assure thee I am in love with his manner of Preaching. Ma­dam, reply'd the Marchioness, I believe he is much better at handling a Text of Love. 'Tis true, said the Queen, for he is a Lu­sty Man, well turned, and whose Face speaks him to be a Lover of Women; I would fain speak with him. That's no hard matter to do, Madam, reply'd the Marchioness, for I know his Sister who lives with Madam de Segnelay, and is as good a Girl as any is i' the World; I'll speak to her this ver [...] Day, and after such a manner that she shall have no suspition of any thing. Do so, my Dear, reply'd the Queen, thou dost no [...] know what a kindness thou wilt do me to le [...] me see the Curate.

The next Day the Marchioness gave a Visit to Madam de Seignelay, where she saw Mademoiselle de Fontaine, to whom she spoke a thousand things in Commen­dation of her Brother, and how highly the Queen was pleased with his last Ser­mon, and that she would be gad to have some Discourse now and then with a Person so Zealous and so Religious [Page 27]She added withal, That the Queen was a Woman of an Exemplary Devotion, that she spent the greatest part of her time in her Chappel, and that she rose every Night to say her Prayers, and to read the Lives of the Saints, particular­ly of our Lady of Loretto, who is the greatest Saint that ever was, and the most humble in all her Actions.

Mademoiselle de Fontaine was a little surprised at first to hear what a Portrai­ture the Marchioness made of the Queens Piety. To which the Damsel answered very civilly, that her Brother was very happy to have moved the heart of so great a Princess, and that she would not fail to acquaint him with the good Tydings.

After the Marchioness was gone, de la Fontaine gave Madam de Segnelay an Account of her Brother's Good For­tune, and she related it again to her Husband, who Laught a long time at the Extraordinary Inclinations of the Queen, frequently saying in Merriment, That he who would please that Princess, must be of the Sanctify'd Order. I assure ye, Sir, said the Marchioness of Segnelay Laughing, there are Persons sometimes to be me with of an Extraordinary Merit, who [Page 28]retire from the World to mind nothing [...] the Great Business of their Salvation. Yo [...] may perhaps in time, Madam, reply'd th [...] Marquess with a smile of Derision, [...] brought to Love such Men in imitation of [...] Pious a Queen, but have you a care of those suttle Serpents that know so well to sting La­dies in their most sensible part.The Mar­quiss farther told his Wife, that the Queen had always been a Lover of Co­quettry, and Amorous Intrigues before she went into England. You know moreover your self that this Princess co­ming to the Court of France, appeared so Excellent an Artist in all her Gallan­tries, that the King himself had a ten­der Affection for her, and that his Ma­jesty wrote in her Favour to King James as of a Person altogether Charming, and one that deserved his Heart. And [...] know my self that in Italy [...] she was look [...] upon as one that held a private Com­merce with Count Don Quixote, and the Baron of Santifiori, who were both Ri­vals, yet agreed very well together.

The marquiss of Seignelay, who wa [...] Secretary of State, would have told his Wife more, would the Orders which he received that Day from the King have permitted him to have stay'd longe [...] [Page 29]with her, so that he left her at his Ca­stle, where she was not long alone how­ever notwithstanding his Absence. For the Chevalier de Nouailles, Lieutenant General, whom she Loved a Thousand times better than her Husband, kept her Company like a Faithful Friend, and divertised her to the utmost of his power. But that which interrupted the Marchionesses Pleasures deserves to be here set down. That Lady had a Par­rot which one of the Pages, like an Un­luckly Slipstring, had taught to say, I'll tell Monsieur, Madam, if you let any Bod. open his Cabinet.

This pratling [...]ar [...]ot disturb'd the Loving Couple. For she was afraid the Lacqueys had discovered something of her Amours with the Chevalier de Nou­ailes, and least the noise of it should wake her Husband's Jealousies, who was Friend to Coquets, and had no such Complacency for his Wife as to wear Horns because they were of her making. These Reasons caused Madam Seignalay to return with all speed to Paris, and desire her Gallant to forbear his Visits for some time, to take away all suspici­on of any such thing as an Amorous In­trigue. [Page 30]But tis a very hard matter for us to appear what we are not, and they that would appear otherwise then they are, must take a great deal of pains. To this purpose the Marchioness went every Day to Mass with the greatest Devotion i [...] the World, and would hard­ly be seen of any Body in hopes to de­ceive the most quick-sighted. But Love who never looses his Rights, and suf­fered her to play this Game for a while, returned soon after more dangerous than ever, sparkling in the Eyes of the Fair Lady with all his Graces, full of powerful Charms; which caused Ma­dam de Seignelay to fall into a deep Me­la choly and a profound vexation of mind that lasted a long time. Nay, she fled the sight of her Lover; believing that Absence would Cure her: But a­las! Time has let us see, that Love is a Mischief which Absence cannot cure, and that it requires some more pre­vailing Medicament than that feeble Remedy.

The Marchioness was sometimes trou­bled that she had listned to the Cheva­lier. But being Young, she did not think that Passion was so cleverly con­veigh'd to the Heart through the Ears, [Page 31]as through the Eyes, and therefore that the following Verses which her Gallant would be always singing to her spoke truh.

The Marchioness of P—s, who had told the Queen how neatly she had managed the Business between her and Mademoiselle de la Fontaine in reference to her Brother, extreamly pleased that Princess, in hopes that the Complemen­tal Priest would come to wait upon her without being put to the trouble of sending for him. These tickling Fancies rejoyced the Queens Heart, who was still sick, when Monsieur the Archbi­shop, who could not as yet restrain his Affection for her, notwithstanding the Reproaches he had undergone for her sake, and the little Love which that Fair Venus reserved for him, tho she car­ry'd it fairly with him by reason of her Misfortunes, flattering her self that the Head of the Council of Lewis XIV's Conscience, together with his Majesty, might [Page 32]be serviceable to her in her Designs and Necessities, came to give her a Visit.

The Prelate therefore being alighted out of his Coach, was by Mrs. Labad [...] conducted into the Queens Chamber, who received him very civily, and gave him an Account of her Sickness, to which the Sorbonne Doctor answered with much tenderness, tho he stay'd not long with his Fair Minioness, which nothing at all surprized her; for she was already accustomed to see a Lover who was grown very chary of his Visits; a thing that nothing displeased her, seeing her chiefest aim was only to preserve his friendship. On the other side, the Cu­rate of St. Mart [...]n, who had understood from his Sister and several others the great Commendations which the Queen gave him, had conceived such a high Opinion of himself, that for the fixing of his Happiness, he resolved to go and pay his Devoirs to her Majesty, and to let her understand how much he was overjoy'd to hear himself applauded by a Person of her Illustrious Character and transcending worth, which over­loaded that Princess with a satisfaction not to be expessed; and at the same time a Page came to inform her, That [Page 33]the Curate of St. Martin's was in the Ca­stle Court, and that hedesired, with her Majesties permission, to pay his respects to her.

At those words the Queen seem'd to be in a strange discomposure of Mind, so that she had hardly strength enough to conceal her joy, which was extraor­dinary, as generally it happens at the beginning of fresh Amours. But her Amorous Transports being a little calmed, she ordered the Curate to be sent for up, who after several Pedantic Scrapes, Cringes of a Journyman-Tay­lor, and affected motions of his Head, told her with all the Rhetoric, and the best study'd language that he had, how happy he was in having the Honour to please a Princess of so great a Judgment, and whose Vertue made such a noise i' the World. The Queen ordered an Elbow-Chair to be brought him, which the Curate had so much Manners or Di­scretion to refuse, but the Dutchess of Portsmouth, who was in the Chamber, told him very Complementally, that he ought to obey the Queens Orders. That day there was nothing discoursed of but Devotion and Piety, and Mon­sieur the Curate spoke like an Angel. [Page 34]Among other things he talk'd Seraphi [...] ­ly of the Holy Exultations that were in­spired into him by reading the Blesse [...] Works of Catherine of Siena, who fo [...] her infinite Merit, and her Devout Life had rendered her self worthy to be th [...] Spouse of Christ, who descended from Heaven on purpose to Marry her.

The Marchioness of P—s, by th [...] aid of her Bigottry, prolonged th [...] Conversation with several other Tale [...] of the same Nature: Insomuch that they also chatted of the Arrival of St. Cle­ment, who was to make his Entry int [...] Paris with all the pomp in practise a­mong the Saints. At what time th [...] Dutchess of Portsmouth pull d out of he [...] Pocket a Letter which she had receive [...] out of Bretagne from the Nunnery o [...] Joy, written to her by Madam de Plein her Aunt, who was Abbess of that San­ctify'd place, wherein she set forth th [...] Penances she enjoyn'd her Nuns, an [...] how happy they were that mortify' [...] their Flesh in this World.

Such Godly Discourse began to of­fend the Queen, who broke off the Pi­ous Conversation, by talking of New and the Gallantries of the Court. Al [...] which time the Curate shew'd great Re­servedness [Page 35]and Moderation by judging [...]udiciously and soberly of the Persons mentioned; which begot him so much [...]he more esteem among the Ladies. Af­ter which the Dutchess of Portsmouth, and Madam P—s having other Busi­ness left the Queen and the Curate alone together.

The Queen thus finding her self at li­berty, ordered Monsieur the Curate to draw his Chair a little nearer, which he durst not do till after the Queen had commanded him several times. Well, Sir, said she, you may now believe your self the Most Fortunate of Men. The Curate blush'd to see the Queen so eager upon the business, but answered her only with a Sigh, which gave the Illustrious Ena­mour'd to understand that her new Lover was not altogether insensible of her for­wardness. And the Curate also began to feel his imagination somewhat Warm­ed, when the Princesses of Soissons and Conti came to visit the Queen, who had hid her Curate between the Wall and the Bedside, where being tyr'd with the tedious Chat of the Visitants he laid him­self gently down and took a Nap.

When the Princesses were gone, the Queen who thought the time of their [Page 36]stay to be an Age, tript back to her Chamber, and drawing the Curtains of her Bed, beheld her Lovely Adonis fast a sleep, which grieved her to the heart. For that Princess was no Admirer of Drousie Galants; as she would often tell the Dutchess of Portsmouth, fetching a deep sigh with all, That indeed the King her Husband went to Bed betimes; But why was it, my Dear, continu'd she, — because he Loved Sleeping the best of any Man in the World. The Queen there­fore sitting down close by her Lover, made a little noise, which wakened him, tho more doz'd with shame than with sleep. Ah! My Dear, said she, present­ly, What a Coward you are! — Such words as those would have raised the Courage of any Curate that saw the Shepherd's Hour at hand, and had had any Mettle in him. But the Great Loo­by fetch'd only a deep Alas! Accompa­ny'd with several Complaints, which could not pay that Princess the satisfa­ction she wanted. I know not whether it were the Presence of a Person of her Character, or her too easie Condescensi­on which had rendered our Abbot, as it were immoveable and void of sence; but certain it is, he did not behave him­self [Page 37]like one who was to receive such new Favours from a Queen, being strangely nonpluss'd and quite out of or­der, tho he were naturally a Boon Blade that never let an Opportunity slip, besides that he was a great Lover of Nocturnal Rendevouzes.

The Queen, who was offended at the stupidness of her Lover, left him, and retired into her Cabinet to ruminate upon what she had done. During this Interval, our Monarch was earnestly seeking for her, to shew her certain Letters which he had received out of Ireland from Tyrconnel and Lausun, giv­ing him an Account of a supposed Victo­ry, by the Death of [...]arshal Schomberg, and the Wound which King William had received by the brush of a Cannon-Bul­let.

These Tydings overjoy'd the Court to that degree, that they made Bonfires, and revell'd in Extravagancies even to Madness for above eight Days together. All the Ladies and Lords spent their time in Debauches, Balls, Comedies, Opera's and whatever else might satis­fie their Senses.

The Dauphin entertained the Ilustri­ous Assembly at Choisi, with an Extraor­dinary Magnificence, and gave 'em all the Divertisements imaginable. The Ladies went with the Princes and Lords a Hawking with their Feathers in their Hats, and Accoutred in Scarlet Justa­cores. The Princesses of Conti, du Ma [...]ere and Soissons, wee Indefatigable Racers, which engaged the Dauphin, the Duke of Chartres and others in the same sport, tho they were glad to yield the Victory to those Amiable Heroes­ses.

The next Day the Queen, who had not yet well recovered her strength, strook in with that same Troop of Gods and Goddesses, on purpose to take a little Air, and share in the pleasure of that Princely Entertainment, attended by the Dutchess of Portsmouth, the Mar­chioness of Seignelay, Madam P—s and several other Lords and Ladies. His Majesty also, and the Prince's who saw that the Presence of the Queen had ang­mented the Number of the Assembly, ordered the following Night to be en­lightened with Fireworks, as a Testimo­ny how glad he was to see her. Our Monarch also, who knew that the Quee [...] [Page 39]was a passionate Lover of Musick, or­dered a most Charming Consort, and Symphony to be provided against the next Day, for her more splendid En­tertainment. And the next Day they returned to Paris, where they went to an Opera of Apollo and the Muses, which was represented in the Palace, and the next Day to another of Cephalus and Procris.

By this time the Curate of St. Mar­tin, who had reflected upon the Queens Favours, and his own want of Courage, was ready to Hang himself for having lost so fair an opportunity. Coward as thou wert, said the vext Lover to him­self, that could not answer the forward Advances of so Adorable a Princess, nor recover thy self into a Condition to improve thy Good Fortune! But I believe the Great Merit of that Incom­parable Lady bewitched me, since all that make a Man to be a Man was Insen­sible and motionless within me.

These Reflexions being over, our Galant resolved to shew his Mistress all his Valour, and to acquit himself after another manner for the future, or else to be revenged upon his Carkass. As for the Queen, in the midst of all the [Page 40]Pleasures wherewith the Court had en­tertained her, she had not forgot to ponder upon the last Advanture that had befallen her. But in regard she had not spoken a word of it, to any Body, she the more comforted up her self with making a Mystery of her Amorous Se­crets. On the other side, the Curate who burned with a desire to shew the value of his Parts, adventured to wait upon his Princess, whom he found mu­sing in a Gallery that led to the Pr. of Wales's Chamber. So soon as the Queen beheld her Gallant, she fell a Blushing. But having recovered her self from that dissorder, which was the effect of her desire, she requested him to walk into her Chamber, where they presently fell to work about those Pleasures which the sweetest of Passions infuses. Our Amiable Queen of Cyprus, who appear­ed altogether Charming in those Delici­ous Minutes, soon forgot her Sorrow for having discovered her Weakness to her Victor. So true it is that all our Designs against Love are but of a short continuance. When a Heart becomes sensible once of the Charms of that Pas­sion, it always follows the Propensity that beck us it along. The Queen has [Page 41]promis'd her self a thousand times that she would never be in Love any more, the Pains and Vexations of which Passi­on surpass all the Joys which that same Bandy-legg'd Deity infuses into us. But to what purpose all our vain Reflexions. Here is our Illustrious Penitent more tender than ever, half Swooning away in the Arms of her Lover, and acknow­ledging no other Felicity but that of A­moreous satisfaction.

But Monsieur the Curate, who held his Divine Queen fast lockt in his Arms, and Kiss d her tenderly all the while, was at his Wits end when Mrs. Labady calling through the Key-hole of the Door, which was fastened within side, told her Majesty, That the Dutchess of Chartres and Maine were alighted from their Coach at St. Germains, with an in­tent to Visit her immediately. The two Lovrs, who had not a little towsed and rumpled one another with their A­morous Caresses, put themselves to rights as well as they could: And that being done, the Curate whip'd away down a Back pair of Stairs, and went home, while-the Queen went to take a Walk with the Dutchesses in the Galleries of the Lonvre, which are full of Paintings, [Page 42]describing the Battles of Alexander and Darius, done by M. le Brun. The Queen said, He was an Excellent Artist for that sort of Painting, but that he was not so good for Drawing a Face. 'Tis true, Madam, reply'd the Dutchess of Main, that M. Migniart paints more natu­rally and to the Life then M. le Brun, who is only for History. Thus our Princesses were disputing the Business together, when the Dauphin, St. Maure, and the Princesses of Conti and Listebonne Ar­rived.

So soon as the Princess of Conti be­held the Queen at a distance, she fell a Laughing, and Whispering the Dauphin in the Ear, Yonder, said she, is the Duke of Vendosme 's Amiable Mistress — Oh my dear Sisttr, reply'd the Monsieur, looking upon her with a Waggish Eye, our Prior has too dainty a Palate, to be satisfy'd with so common a Dish. The Princess, who was that Day in a Good Humour and resolved to be merry, was going to speak more of her mind, when the Queen and the Dutchesses came to salut [...] her, and they talk'd of nothing bu [...] Paintings and Portraitures. At the same time the Count of St. Maure pro­posed their going altogether to M. Mig­niart's, [Page 43]where they should see Accom­plish'd Beauties, and among the rest the Portraiture of a Daughter of one of the Advocates of the Council, which was the Loveliest Face that ever he beheld. The Dauphin approv'd the Design; so that all the Ladies took Coach immedi­ately.

M. Mignart told the Company he would shew 'em his first Room, which was full of the Pictures of all the Lords in the Kingdom. There is one, said the Queen, I know very well; which happen­ed to be Lausun's, and which was done so well to the Life, that it wanted only to speak.

After they had a long time viewed all those Pieces, the Count of St. Maure desired the Painter to shew 'em the Por­traitures of the Ladies, which M. Mig­niart did accordingly. At what time the Count drawing near the Dauphin, shew'd him the Picture of the Fair Gou­jon, saying to him with a passionate Air, Sir, the Original of this Copy deserves the Affection of some Gallant Person. Monsieur found the Portraiture a thousand times Hand somer than the Count had describ­ed it, but return'd him no other An­swer than only this, Do you believe, said [Page 44]he, that there are any persons so Beautiful in the World, and that this Damsel is so Charming as the Painter has Drawn her? Monsieur Migniart who over-heard him, made Answer to the Dauphin, that he had not flatter'd her in his Painting, but that the Picture was like her, not she like the Picture. Which last words made the Dauphin more carefully exa­mine the Lovely Lineaments of that peerless Minioness, which put him into a deep Study. But the Queen and the Princesses, who had much ado to brook the Commendations that were bestow'd upon that Beautiful Portraiture, out of meer Jealousie and Despite, told the Dauphin, That she had a Froward Wild Look, which made the Lords fall a Laughing, who plainly saw the contra­ry. More especially the Princess of Con­ti, Sir, said she to the Dauphin smiling, in time you will fall in Love with Women, for you look veny wistly upon 'em. Provided they wexe like your self, Madam, reply d the Monsieur, I could willingly consent to be in Love.

After this Illustrious Company had left the Painter, every one retir'd to their own Habitations, except the Dau­phin, who followed the Princess of [Page 45] Conti, his Confident, Home, where he spent the remainder of the Day in tel­ling a Hundred Stories of the Court: And the Duke of Vendome and the Count of St. Maure, who also met him there, had their share of the merriment.

The next Day our Monarch, who had not seen the Queen for some time, hav­ing been taken up with the Great de­votion which Madam de Maintenon infu­ses into him by vertue of the Holy Wa­ter with which she besprinkles the Bol­ster of his Bed every Morning, and a great Rosary which she makes him al­ways wear about his Arm, this Prince, I say, with his Pater Noster's, went to Visit his Mistress, who receiv'd him very Civily, as she was wont to do. After some serious Discourse, the King drew near his Princess to Caress her; and the first thing his majesty did, was to em­brace her tenderly, and kiss her several times; but the Queen who spy'd his Ro­sary about his Wrist, ask'd him, Why he carry'd his Pater Noster's so familiar­ly. Oh—Madam, cryd the King, there is an extraordinary Vertue in this Wood. Yes, Sir, reply'd the Queen, there is no question of it—But do you know the Ef­fects of this Rosary in the most Amorous Mi­nutes? [Page 44] [...] [Page 45] [...] [Page 46]It cools the most inflam'd Passion, and terrifies the Heart with those s [...]ings of Conscience that many times proves deadly. 'Tis very true, reply'd the King, pulling off his Rosary, I have found my self good for nothing ever since I wore it. But 'tis the Advice of my Confessor and Madam de Maintenon, who have assured me, that by saying my Ave Maries several times a Day to the Holy Virgin with this Rosary, no mis­fortune shall befal either my Person or my Kingdom. You know, Madam, continu'd the King, that Lewis XIII. Rsigned his Crown to the protection of that Holy Patro­ness. Oh, Sir, said the Queen with a mournful utterance, talk no more of re­signing Crowns, the very remembrance of it kills me. I would pray to St. Stephen and St. Lewis too a thousand times oftner than I do, if they would but restore me to that which I have lost. In the mean time, I find that the Saints are as great Cheats as Men and that there is no relying upon any thing in this World. Why, Madam, reply [...] the King in a kind of Astonishment, did your Saint ever make you any promise? A [...] others do, said the Queen, who assure us o [...] their succour in our Distresses. However▪ Madam, reply'd the King, the Saint [...] have a great power, and we rarely loose th [...] [Page 47]Effects of that Devotion which we pay 'em. Some indeed there are, Sir, said she, that when 'tis for their Interest, hearken to us in pursuance of their designs.

Our Monarch, who perceiv'd that a Devout Conversation did but render his Fair Maistress insensible of the Pleasures of Love, chang'd his Discourse, and told her with a passionate Air, That one Kiss tenderly imprinted by her fair Lips, would restore Life to the Dead. The Queen who united Love and Devo­tion together, made Answer to the King after a Languishing manner, That were it not for the sweet Minutes that a per­son Enamour'd tasts, it would not be worth the while to live one Day. 'Tis true Charming Princess, said the King, that is the most sensible part. Alas! Sir, reply'd the Queen half in a Swoon, harp no more upon that string, for I feel my self teady to faint. The King who perceived the Queen in a Swooning Fit that caus'd her to throw her self upon the Bed, was preparing to assist her; but the Com­pany coming in prevented his Sedu­ [...]ity.

The Queen being come to her self ad­mitted the Visit of Monsieur the Arch­bishop, who found her a little heated, [Page 48]tho she had made use of her Fan to cool her self; for the Vapours of her imagi­nation heightened by the presence of our Great Prince, were not so easily laid. The Venerable Apostle there­fore, when the King was gone, began an Amorous Consolation, vowing and protesting to her whatever Love could inspire into him. On the other side the Queen a thousand times assur'd him with her usual Address, that she lovd him better than her self; which satisfy'd the Prelate, who pretended that all the Affection of a Woman was due to him, since Nature had bequeathed him the choicest of her Gifts.

Their Discourse was intermix'd, for that between whiles they talkd of the Affairs of England, and of King James's Return, who was then going into Ire­land, but was to return into France in a short time by the Advice of Tyrconne and Lausun. Here, said the Queen, is a Letter from the Lord Killmallock, which gives me an account of the Death of the Sieur de St. Ruth, a French Officer and very Valiant, who was slain in the heat of the Fight. In truth, Madam, said our Protector of the Surbonne, the loss of such a Worthy Officer as the Sieur de St. Ruth, [Page 49] is a very great loss to France. 'Tis very [...]rue, reply'd the Queen, but these are the fruits of War. I long to see the Count of [...]a sun; for I have a World of things to say [...]o him. Madam, reply'd Monsieur the Archbishop, I have heard you speak of the E. of Tyrconnel; and I have heard he is an Irish Man. Yes, my Dear, reply'd the Queen, and of mean Extraction to boot. He same into England young, where he was a Lacquey for ten years together, and afterwards met with a Catholick Master, who prefer­red him to the Duke of York, in the na­ture of one of his Gentlemen. During which time he did his Lord so many good Services, that he loved him so well as to favour him with his good Will, and to entrust him with some part of his Secrets; so that at last King [...]ames thought good to make him Deputy of [...]reland, in recompence of his Fidelity. Such [...]as the Eash of Tyronnel 's Fortune, which was not a little to be admired. 'tis true, said the Archbishop, that people of mean Extraction rise to the highest degrees of Ho­nour; all things are governed by Luck and Chance—But I think I have heard say, [...]hat formerly his Wife had been a very hand­some Woman. I'll assure you, Sir, reply'd [...]he Queen, I always took her to be one of the most amiable persons i' the World. First she [Page 50]had a great deal of Wit, she was well-shap'd, her Conversation sweet und merry, her Com­plexion incomparable, with large grey Eyes and very passionate; and then she deserved the Affection of an Honest Gentleman for the sake of her Devotion, which was extraordi­nary in a Woman bred as she was in the pleasures of the World. The King of France was not insensible of her Charms, continu'd the Queen smiling; I know in good part, that the King fell in Love with her, and the King, my Husband, would have been dab­ling, finding her worthy of his Affection; which made me Marry her to Tyrconnel sooner than I would have done, on purpose to break off that Familiarity which did not a little trouble me. But since that, we have been very good Friends, and if Heaven had prospered our designs, we had been insepa­rable. But no more of this mournful Recital, it would carry me too far. With all my heart, answered our Metropolitan Pon­tiff, embracing her tenderly, telling her withal, that King James had no true reason to Love any Woman i'the World to the prejudice of such an Amiable Princess as her self. Ah! My Dear, re­plyed the Queen smiling, Men natureally love change, tho they can give no reason for it. If the Dutchess of G—n would [Page 51]have listned to my dear Husband, she had been one of his Mistresses; but she had more Vertue. The Queen would have pursu'd the History of King James's Amours, but that she was prevented by the Dutches­ses of Orleance and Bourbon, who came to ask her, Whither she would go to the Chappel Royal of vincennes, to hear the Abbot Boileau, who was then a Fa­mous Preacher. She consented, and the Archbishop carried the Ladies in his Coach to the Chappel, and then went Home to give Orders to his Official M. Cheron against the next day, touch­ing the Surbonne. But our Princess, who was prepossessed with the Merits of the Curate of St. Martin, did not think the Abbot Boileau so Eloquent as he was reputed to be, tho the Dutchesses of Or­leance and Bourbon told her several times that they never had heard so brave, nor so learned a Man. For my part, reply­ed the Queen, I look upon him to be too po­pular, and that he has not Fire enough in his Expressions. I know not that, Madam, answered the Dutchess of Orleans, but he is admired by all the World. Oh Ma­dam, said the Queen, had this famous Preacher no more than your Approbation, it were enough to render him happy. The [Page 52] Queen pronounced those words with something of an Air of Derision which no ways pleased the Dutchess, wh [...] some Days after told the King that th [...] Queen was so proud that it was no won­der she was Dethroned. But the King who had a Kindness for the Queen, mad [...] it his Business to reconcile the Dutchess and her together; so that ever since they have been very good Friends.

The Dauphin, who still visited the Princess of Turenne privately, by the cunning management of her Squire M [...] du Mont, who found a way to intro­duce the Monsieur at a back pair o [...] Stairs, without any notice taken of him and who has since managed all his Amo­rous Intrigues with that dexterity, tha [...] the Court has been kept in sgnorance This Squire advised the Dauphin neve [...] to visit the Princess till about Ten a [...] Clock at Night, when her Husband would be at play at the Dutchess of Ne­mours, which Monsieur, who loves se­cresiy in Love, carefully observed to do; remembring the Custom of one o [...] the Dukes and Peers of France lately Dead, who hired a House in the stree [...] Grenelle, the backside of which joyned close to a Palace where lived a very [Page 53]pretty Woman, for whose sake, that he might privately enjoy her, he broke a door out of one House into the other; by which means they met as often as they pleased, and no Body the wiser.

Madam de Turenne, who passionately Loved the Dauphin, staid for him one Evening in her Chamber with great im­patience. At length when the Dauphin came, he found her somewhat melan­choly; of which when the Monsieur asked her the reason somewhat surlily, she made answer, That 'twas her Mis­fortune to have an Amorous Delicacy quite opposite to the Humour and Ge­nius of her Lover. The Dauphin, whom the sport of Hunting renders a little Rustic, and who reserves no great po­liteness for Ladies, answered her some­what rudely, as he rose up from her, That Women by their little Tricks, made Love Capricious. Upon which the Princess, understanding the humour of her Gallant, ran to embrace him, say­ing to him at the same time, Ah, my dear Prince, you have not wherewithal to satisfie a Tender Lover, which words pro­nounced with an extraordinary passion, made the Dauphin fall a Laughing, who told her that she knew that best. Upon [Page 54]that, the Princess of Turenne perceiving she should never be able to alter the Dauphin's Clownish Disposition, fell a Laughing as well as he: And so that E­vening was spent in Toying after the Monsieurs manner, and Monsieur having uttered some agreeable Expression to the Princess, contrary to his Custom, she returned him her Thanks after a very Courtly manner. But at length the night being far spert the two Lovers parted well satisfied the one with the other.

The Prince of Turenne, who had been playing till it was late at Madam de Ne­mours, being by that time returned, was desirous to go to Bed; but finding it extreamly tumbled, asked his Wife the reason of it, who was at her Wits end for not having caused it to be made a­gain before her Husband came Home. So that the disorder she was in, confir­med the Princes Suspicions so much the more; but being come to her self again, she told him, She had been very much troubled with the Headach, and that she had lain down several times to alleviate her pain. 'Tis very well, Madam, reply'd the Prinee, with a discontented Look, and now you are Cur'd, I am sick. The [Page 55]Disconsolate Lady, not knowing what else in the World to do, endeavoured by all the most tender Caresses imagi­nable to recover the Prinee into a good Humour, who for his part little mind­ed his Wifes Gallantries, as being enga­ged at least in Intrigues so far distinct; and not having any kindness for Made­moiselle de Ventadour, whom he had Mar­ried for the Interest of his Family only, as being the greatest Heiress in the Kingdom. For these Reasons he treated his Wife but very roughly, as not hav­ing any Tenderness for her, being whol­ly taken up with the Countess de Rourre, who had lost her Husband in the Battel of Flerus.

That Lovely Woman had the knack always to obtain an infinite number of Admirers. And all the Sparks of Venus that beheld her, burn'd with a desire to be fettered in her Chains. We have said of the Princess of Turenne that she Lov'd with a certain Delicacy and Cu­riosity, which consisted in a thousand little Punctilios. On the other side, the Countess de Rourre little car'd whether a Man Lov'd her or no, so she could di­vertise her self, and provided her Lo­vers sent her Magnificent Presents, she [Page 56]left them the Liberty to change as often as they pleased, reserving also the same liberty to her self. And therefore it may be said, That this Lady was a pro­fessed Coquet: But notwithstanding this same Coquettry, the Dauphin allow'd her a share of his Favours as well as the Princess of Turenne, and many others. But this not being to my purpose, I shall say no more of it but only thus much, That her Carriage being none of the Modestest, nor so Discreet as it should be, vexed the very Soul of the Count her Husband, who would frequently Curse the fatal Day that had j [...]yn'd him to that sickle Wag­tail.

The Dauphin, who after the Death of her Husband, had given the Countess du Rourre a very fair House near St. Ho­nore's Gate, went frequently to visit her, and diligently waited on her, as one of the most Amiable of his Mistres­ses. On the other side, that Charming Lady made use of all her Artifices, her Amorous Dalliances and Tender Ca­resses, to preserve a Heart which had no great Inclination to Love, as being more affected with sporting in the Woods than between the Sheets.

'Tis the Nature of Coquetts to force their Humour to a Complyance with that of their Lovers: For by that means they always keep a good Correspon­dence with them. So that the Dauphin who had not those winning satisfactions that season the Ragoo's of Love, could not forbear the having an infinite Ten­derness for that Lady. One Day that she was in her Cabinet, and that she was sensible of a more then usual tenderness, her Illustrious Lover came in, to whom she said not a word. At what time Monsieur admiring at the silence of his Incomparable Minioness, demanded the reason, and at the same time gave her a tender Kiss. Ah! My dear Prince, re­ply'd she with a sign, I was mustering up all my Good Luck, and that great Idea de­prived me of my Speech. Madam, an­swer'd the Monsieur, that defect is heredi­tary to your Ladyship, because you are half a Norman. My dear Prince, said the Countess, you take me one way, and I mean another: For my meaning was, that I was so Charm'd with being never so little belov'd by so great a Prince, that at that very mo­ment I had lost the ordinary use of my Tongue. I understand ye, Madam, reply'd the Prince with a smile, but by those words, [Page 58]never so little, you seem to mistrust that I am not wholly at your Service. This is an injustice done to my sincere Love, and the real Affection I have for ye.

Upon that the Countess rose from her Seat, and went to embrace her dear Lover who is extreamly pleas'd when a Woman that has a Kindness for him prevents him with some little Addresses I know not what they did more; but believe that in all probability Lover was not satisfy'd with only bare Expressi­ons.

However it were, our Queen in Tribulation, who could not long endure the Absence of Monsieur the Curate, sent for him by one of her Gentlemen, under pretence that her little Prince of Wales was sick, and that she was extreamly afflicted for fear of losing a dear Child, upon whose Life all her Hopes depend­ed. Now the Curate either out of Re­spect, or for some other Reasons, durst not so frequently visit his Princess, so that the Priest was over joy'd to find him­self sent for. To which purpose he cal­led to his Remembrance all the plea­sures he had tasted in the Enjoyment of so Adorable a person, and the good Fortune which he hop'd to reap from [Page 59]his good Service. All these great Ideas made the Lover to go up into his Cham­ber, where he rubb'd himself from Head to Foot with Essence of Jassemine, scour'd his Hands with Past of Almonds to make 'em feel smooth, and powder'd his Hair more than he was wont to do; and after he had thus trickt and spru­ced himself up, he went to visit the Queen about Six a Clock in the Evening. For at that Hour she sent him word she should be alone, because her Court would be at the Opera, or at other Divertisements of the Carneval Sea­son.

Monsieur the Curate found his Charming Mistress and the little Prince's Nurse bemoaning the Illustrious Infant, and scar'd at the thoughts of his Death Oh, said the Afflicted Princess, must I loose the only Blessing that is left me in this World! St. Winifred, accept my Offerings and hear my Vows, and sanctifie the Prayers which I make to thee, Divine Queen of Hea­ven.

During this Ejaculation, the Queen cast an Eye upon her Gallant, then upon his Knees, that he might partici­pate in the Devotion of the Frincess, who at the same time took him by the [Page 60]Hand and led him into her Chamber. There she ask'd him his Advice about the sick Prince, and what he thought of his Distemper. To which the Curate answered after he had put her in hpes, that if he should happen to Die, it was a Loss that might be repair'd, since her Majesties Youth could not want Heirs to her Husbands Throne. Those words re-cheard the Queens Heart, who seem'd to be quite cast down; and at the same time giving the Curate an Amorous Grasp by the Hand, she pull'd him to her and made him write upon her Altar the Prophetic Terms he had made use of to let her understand the Fertility of her Arable Ground. After which she thank'd him very civi­ly, telling him withal, that if all Men did but resemble him in Piety and Natural strength, Soldiers would not be so scarce in France as they were. I assure ye, said the Princess, I was in a Disconsolate Con­dition before you came; but you have given me as much Comfort as it is possible for me to receive. Persons Sanctify'd to that degree as you are, have something extraordinary a­bove other Men. I must confess, I find 'em a thousand times more engaging than your Court Minions who boast their fine Comple­ments [Page 61]to the Ladies, but have no other Me­rit but that frivolous Excellency to commend 'em. Alas—Madam, reply'd Mon­sieur the Curate, with a great deal of Hu­mility, we poor Abbots know not what Court­ship is; there is nothing in our Breviaries that tells us how to please Ladies. No mat­ter, reply'd the Queen, with a passionate utterance, Nature that acts alone in you, is worth all the chicest and most Courtly Manner of forc'd Ability. In a word, Ma­dam, cry'd out the Transported Lover, embracing the Knees of his Goddess, I may account my self the most fortunate a­mong men, since I see my self so highly e­steem'd by the most Adorable Queen in the VVorld. Let us have no Complaints, my Dear, reply'd the Princess, interrupt­ing him, her Eyes all sparkling with Love, they are now quite out of season. Let us make the best of the pretious minutes that are left us; let us loose no time, but employ all in confirming to each other the mutual pledges of our Love.

The words were hardly out of her Mouth, when the Marchioness of P—s came to give her notice that King James was return'd out of Ireland and come to Paris, and that he was gone to the Con­vent of the Reverend Fathers the Jesu­its. [Page 62]The Tydings caus'd the Sanctify'd Gallant forthwith to Decamp, who was afraid of nothing so much as to be taken Tardy in an Amorous Familiarity.

King James, who was at his Wits end to see himself so coursly handled by Fortune, and hopeless of ever re-as­cending his Throne, was so cast down, that nothing could comfort him. So that he was no sooner arriv'd, but he ran first of all to the Jesuits to tell the Lamentable story of his Misfortune to Father La Chaise his faithful Friend. So soon as the Distressed Prince beheld the Reverend Father, he cry'd out in a Lamentable Tone. Ah—Father — I am lost beyond Recovery; Ireland is totally re­duc'd, and my Enemies are Victorious. The whole sacred Society of Jesuits, did all they could to chear up the poor Prince, who wept bitterly, and told 'em how King VVilliam had pass'd the Boine and Routed his Army, and how he had afterwards made himself Master of Dro­gheda, Dundalk, Dublin, VVaterford and Duncannon—All's lost, continu'd the King sighing, every thing opposes my good Fortune, and my Stars showre down their most Cruel Influencies uon me.

Upon this the Reverend Fathers La Chaise and Gerard carry'd King James to the Fauxburg St. Antoine, to the end they might dispel some part of his grief, and buoy up his Heart with a plentiful Collation. Monsieur the Archbishop also no sooner heard of his Arrival, but he went to wait upon him, making him a thousand Offers of his Service, and tel­ling him, That his Majesty might make use of his Purse as his own, and that he would never forsake him.

King James return'd his thanks with an extraordinary tendrness to the Prote­ctor of the Sorbonne, assuring him that whatever kindness he did for him, should be return'd him when it lay in his power. Those last words caus'd the Archbishop to smile at the easiness of that unfortunate Prince, who was the Cully and sport of the World. This Opinion which the Archbishop had of the King, mov'd him to some pity, so that raising his Voice, Sir, said he, be of good Courage, we shall find a way to suc­cour your Majesty; settle your thoughts a little, and chear up your self with us. With that they drank about several times King James's Health, and to all his Friends that should be instrumental to­ward [Page 64]his Restoration. After which they talk'd no more of Melancholy sto­ries, but every one spoke of what was most divertising, and most proper to spend the time delightfully and merrily. At length King James perceiving it was something late, took leave of the Reve­rend Fathers the Jesuits; and the Arch­bishop carry'd him to St. Germains in his Coach; which very much surprized the Queen, who could not conceive how they should happen to meet together. The King being thus got Home, was receiv'd but very coldly by his Dome­sticks. For they began already to look upon him as a King without a Crown, and as an Unfortunate person; which extreamly afflicted him. Our Monarch however dissembl'd the Contempt which he had of his Cousin; considering it was more Generous rather then augment his Sorrows to divert his Mind with some Courtly Employment, to which King James at first was altogether averse, but then reflecting that all his grieving and lamenting would not regain him his Scepter, nor the Dominion of his King­doms, he banish'd all his Disturbances from his Thoughts for some time.

King James went often to Visit Ma­dam Maintenon at St. Cir's, and made her the Confident of his thoughts, and of the Counsel which his Brother had given him to Court some pretty Lady, which made the Marchioness Laugh; however she told him, That the Re­medy was none of the worst, and that Women were many times great helps to Men in this Life. Yes, Madam, answered King James, the pleasure of Courting 'em is not to be parallell'd to those that have a Contented Mind; but to a person in my Condition, Love is but an Ʋnwelcome Guest. Upon this, the Mar­chioness, who found she had a favoura­ble Opportunity to revenge her self upon her Rivaless and our Monarch, who had preferr'd the favour of King James's Consort before hers, and was very sedulous in waiting upon that Princess, told King James, That if he were resolv'd to undertake an Amo­rous Heart, she would provide him a Lady, with whom he might spend ma­ny a Charming Hour. Madam, said he, I begin, methnks, to feel my imagina­tion somewhat warm'd by the story you have [Page 66]told me. But pray tell me, Madam, who this fair Lady is that you would have me male my Addresses to, in this sorrowful Condition of mine. Sir, reply'd Madam de Maintenon, Nature must reinforce her self, before you can think of any such thing; the Business is not very pressing; besides that, I must have time to work the Mind and Heart of the Charming Lady that I purpose for your Embraces.

After this pleasant Conversion, King James took his leave of the Marchio­ness, and return'd to St. Germains; where he was no sooner Arriv'd, but Mrs. Laybady told him, That the Queen had had several Swooning Fits that Day, and that 'twas believ'd she was with Child. To which the King answered somewhat unadvisedly, That it might well be so, but that he had been a long time Absent. But Mrs. Labady was more discreet: For she presently withdrew without speaking a word. However the Fainting Fits that still disturb'd the Queen, very much afflicted her petty Court. And the King, who dissembl'd his Disqui­et, seldom stir'd from her. In a word [Page 67]the Queens Malady left her in a sort time, and all the Physitians, after she had consulted them, concluded, That she was big of two if not of three. A Midwife was also sent for, who con­firm'd the same, which fill'd the whole Court with Joy, and France also, that had contributed so much towards it, would needs partake in the Happiness of the two Princes, unfortunate in every thing else. The Venerable Council of Lewis the XIVth's Consci­ence, were overioy'd at it beyond the Expression of Words. For this se­cond Off-spring rais'd the hopes of all the Jesuitical Assembly. The Re­verend Father La Chasse, and several of the Religious Orders, went to Congratulate the Queen upon her Fer­tility, and the Blessing that Heaven had sent her. Oh—Madam, cry'd the Holy Father, Courage, you shall Ascend your Throne once more, in de­spite of all your Enemies. For I find that the Saints have heard our Pray­ers, particularly St. Vaubons, to whom I addressed a thousand and a thousand Vows, to the end her Girdle might work the same Effect upon you as it has wrought upon [Page 68]so many other Women that try'd the vertue of it. In truth Father, reply'd the Queen, I believe the Blessed Girdle of that Saint, to whom you paid your Vows, did me no harm. For I frequently made use of it, according to your Reverences Advice, with the usual assistance that begets Mankind. In truth, Madam, your Majesty has too much Knowledge, to be­lieve that the Girdle of a Saint only, without the Company of a Man, can be­get a Child. Nevertheless, Father, re­ply'd the Queen, there are many poor Women, who are firmly of OPinion that they shall certainly be with Child by wearing that Blessed Girdle about their VVasts.

As for your self, Madam, reply'd the Father smiling, you are Cured of that Ridiculous Belief: VVhat a dange­rous thing would it be, continu'd the Fa­ther, for Maids to touch St. Vaubon 's Robe, when the single Ribbon which she ty'd about her Loyns, being bound with Devotion about a Womans Wast, could produce the Head of a Family. After this manner it is, that Pope Clement relates the story in his last Book of the [Page 69]Life of that Saint. Thus it was that Father La Chaise let his Fancy ramble, when Monsieur the Archbishop, who had understood the welcome News as well as the rest, came in. Every Gal­lant of that Princess was extreamly pleas'd to understand that the Queen was big with Child; for those Illustri­ous Lovers every one ascrib'd to them­selves the Honour of the prosperous success of their Labours. There was only the Duke of Vandome who swore the most seriously in the World, that he had never dipt his Pen in the Queen Inkhorn. Which became the Sport and Raillery of the Court. The Dauphin also Laught at it, saying, That 'twas a better Pen than any of the Doctors of the Sorbonne wrote withal; and that in time Fame would spread his Name far and near. The Princesses of Conti, Lislebonne and Sais­sons spo ted after the same man­ner. But that which ceas'd all these Railleries was a Pilgrimage which the Queen undertook, wherein King James was also to be concern'd to­gether with several other Devout Persons. But he had earnestly desi­red his Beloved Consort not to car­ry [Page 70]any Woman with her; for said that pious Prince, Whereever they are there can be no Devotion. Henry III. observed the same Policy, when he walked bare-foot to carry his Offer­ings to any Saint. Wherefore His Majesty was never Accompany'd up­on those occasions, but by some of his Minions, clad like himself in White Linnen, and wearing large Ro­saries, of which every Bead was car­ved like a Deaths Head.

King James being returned from his Pilgrimage, found himself fully Comforted for the Loss of his Three Kingdoms. I know not whether his Conversation with St. Clotilde had o­ver ruled him wholly to submit to the severe Decree of his Malignant stars, but there was a World of Joy observed to glissen in his Counte­nance. About the same time it was, that being one day with the Marchi­oness of Maintenon, the Lady still desi­rous to revenge her self upon the Queen her Rivaless, took advantage of that lucky tender minute to Talk to him of the Affairs of his Heart; [Page 71]to which the King gave Answers ve­ry agreeable. Some days afterwards Madam de Maintenon sent for Mde­moiselle de — to her Cham­ber, who was the Fair Lady that she design'd for the King and no King, a Lady at the same time tender­ly belov'd by our Great Monarch. So soon as King James saw her, he was Charm'd with her Beauty, and all the desires of that poor Prince, that lay, as it were, in a Swoon, reviv'd at the sight of so, Fair an Object; and his Fancy was heat­ed after such a manner, that he had much adoe to Recover him­self from an Agitation so extraordi­nary.

But the Fair Lady, who could not brook with patience the feeble Cares­ses of that Prince, always contriv'd some excuse or other, that she might not meet His Majesty; for as she said one day to the Dutchess of Nemours, I know not the meaning of Madam de Maintenon, to go about thus to Engage me to a Complyance with King James. One might think, as this Lady orders [Page 72]her Affairs, that the Race of Men were at an end. My dear Minion, reply'd the Dutchess with a smile, the Marchi­oness of Maintenon has her Ends, and you must submit to her. This An­swer afforded nothing of Consolation to our Charming Lady, who being at her Wits end to see her self ob­liged to Entertain a Familiar Com­merce with a Lover already come to his Spectacles, who had more need of Repose and Ease, then of the u­sual Agitations of Venus, resolved to feign her self sick, that she might rid her self from the frequent Vi­sits of the King of the Bass, and her project took. For the King being Enamour'd only by Accident, soon laid asleep his Rapid motions in their proper places.

However Madam Maintenon, who thought her self in some measure Re­venged, for the Inconstancy of her Lover, and the Queen's interloping, was not a little glad that K. James's A­mour had made some noise at the Court; and tho the Consequences were such as she expected and desired, however she would not seem to be disatisfy'd.

The Queen who understood that 'twas the Marchioness of Maintenon, who had laid that Snare for her Hus­band, only made here self Sport with it, which nettl'd the Marchioness not a little. But the Queen who is infi­nitely Witty and Politick withal, under stood so well how to manage both the Marchioness and our Monarch, that she has all along to outward appear­ance preserv'd her Friendship with those Illustrious Persons.

All this while the Curate of Saint Martin, whom his Modesty had kept silent, tho' he thought ne're a whit the less, imagin'd the time of his Absence too long; and therefore so soon as the noise of the Queen's being With-child was quietly over, he went to St. Ger­mains, under pretence of paying his Devoirs to King James, whom he had not seen since his Return out of Ireland. The Queen return'd him her Thanks, and in regard the King was not then at Paris, our two Lovers made the Best of his Lucky Absence, by gi­ving each other a thousand Proofs of their Affection. Our Princess made [Page 74]known to her Gallant her great Joy for being big With-child a second time, in hopes that this last Infant would utterly overthrow all the Designs of the wretched Huguenots, who triumph'd over her Misfortune. Ah—my Dear, (continu'd the Princess, kissing her Ec­clesiastical Adonis) had King James undertaken an Affair of that Impor­tance as to beget a Child, the Poor Man would have been at a Loss. You cannot imagine how uncapable that Prince is to beget his Like: So that the Marchioness of Maintenon mistook in her Politicks to choose out a Mistress for a Man that can hardly make Wa­ter: alas—poor Woman, she thought to make me jealous, but she took a wrong Course: I knew too well my Husband's Merits, and that there is ne're a Girl i'the Town, if she be any thing handsome that will be baffl'd by such a doating Gallant. But Ma­dam, (reply'd the Curate) I believe that Lady's Design was to fret and dis­quiet your Majesty, because she knows that our King has a great Esteem and Honour for you, and usually the Mi­stresses [Page 75]of Kings are jealous of their Ri­valesses. 'Tis a strange thing (reply'd the Queen) that a Woman of her Age should not be satiated with Love: yet you cannot imagin perhaps how amorous this Antiquated Bigotess is. After she has turn'd about her Rosary an hour or two, the good Lady goes to caress the King with a thousand Grimaces, which no way suit with a Woman of her Character. In short, she loves Pleasure better then her Life, and when she cannot please her self, she produces others Younger and more Beautiful. This is the Genius of the Abbess of St. Cyr, notwithstanding all her Devotion.

In truth Madam, I never took that Lady to be so given to the World, or so addicted to Pleasure. However she ought to consider that she is in her wain, and that 'tis time for her to leave off. Ah! Monsieur — (reply'd the Princess) she has been always a Wan­ton. A Friend of mine told me since I came to Paris, that when Scarron mar­ry'd her, every body told the Poor Man but of Charity, that he was going to [Page 76]ally himself to the Family of Acteon, To which the Growthead Aesop re­ply'd, that he laugh'd at wearing Horns, since he was not the only Man i'the World that did so, and that he only took that Fair Damsel to please his Eyes.

But the Arrival of the Count of Lau. sun, who surpriz'd the Queen, caus'd 'em to alter their Conversation: for now they talk'd of nothing but the Affairs of Ireland, and the loss of Limerick. Ah! my dear Cousin, (cry'd the afflicted Princess) what think ye of my Mis­fortune? I must confess, Madam, (reply'd the Count, rubbing his Fore­head) I am extreamly troubl'd for all these Misfortunes. There is nothing vexes a General more then to be foil'd in his Enterprizes. I wish I had never been in Ireland for my Honour's sake. The Count of Tyrconnel and I did all that could be expected from stout Soldiers. But 'tis in vain to toil when Fortune is against us. You have given me a sad Protraiture of our Condition, my dear Cousin, but I had thought that a great Soldier like your self, had always re­serv'd [Page 77]some Hope: nevertheless, I see that—The Queen could not conclude the rest, because a Torrent of Tears that fell from her Eyes would not suffer her to proceed. Which the Count beholding, and sorry to see her so terribly afflict her self, he took her in his Arms to com­fort her, Swearing that he would try the to'ther Bout, and doe his Utmost to restore her Majesty to her Throne.

After the Queen had dry'd up her Tears, looking upon the Count with a tender Eye, My dear Cousin, (said she) how much am I oblig'd to your Kindness, for interesting your self so much in my Concerns. 'Twas you that sav'd me out of the Hands of my Enemies, as well as the Prince of Wales my little Son. Now that I am big With-Child again, I have still more need of your Assistance, to the end it may be publish'd to the World that this Great Belly of mine is no Fable, as they who bereav'd me of my Crown believ'd and gave out. O Heaven! that know'st the Injustice done me, prosecute my Revenge, and thou Saint Vaubons, who hast given Life to the [Page 78]Infant which I bear, be thou for ever on my side. Prove but thou faithful to me, and I will burn upon thy Altar the largest Tapers I can buy for Money.

The Count de Lausun, who had heard that the Queen was VVith-child, Madam, (said he to her with a Smile) I find that you have not been idle in my Absence, and that Love has been your Friend. Oh — Cousin, (reply'd the Queen with a languishing Aire,) deride not an Unfortunate Princess that breathes nothing but Grief; this Production is only the Effect of my Prayers to St. Vaubons. Had yee no humane Assistance? Madam, (said the Count, proceeding still in his Je­sting Humour. None at all, (answer'd the Queen.) Then most certainly, (reply'd the Count) St. Vaubons must be a Hermophrodite to get Children a­lone by her self.

You do not take the Blessings of Heaven in a right sense, (reply'd the Queen): Let us find some other Dis­course. How did yee like the Irish Ladies, are they as handsom as they [Page 79]are at London? — How many Mi­stresses had you, during your stay in that Country? Faith—Madam, I was so taken up with the VVar, that I had no leisure to discern the VVhite from the Brown; besides that I should never court the Irish Ladies—they are so little obliging that they will ne­ver make any great Conquests. Then you have been Visiting 'em, Cousin, (reply'd the Queen, laughing) yet you would make me believe you never minded 'em. I know that Mars and Venus have a great Sympathy together. For which reason it is that Ovid shews us those two Deities surpriz'd in an Amorous Familiarity, and fetter'd in small Chains that Vulcan had Forg'd, to cure himself of his jealous Suspi­cions.

The Count would have gone on with his Pleasantries in answer to the Queen, when King James arriv'd. So that after some few Complements, the King and the Count went toge­ther to the Fauxburgh St. Antoin, to con­ferr with the Reverend Father La Chaise. At what time the Holy Father [Page 80]gave King James a Writing, the Con­tents of which were as follows.

‘ Francis by the Grace of God, and the Holy Apostolick See, Archbi­shop of Paris, Duke and Peer of France, Commander of the King's Orders, Protector of the Sorbonne, and Superiour of that of Navarr, with the Assistance of our Venerable Brethren, Deans, Canons of the Me­tropolitan Church, and the Pious Council of Lewis the Great, our In­comparable Monarch, most humbly supplicateth the King and Queen of Great Britain, James II. and Mary d' Este his Illustrious Consort, to consent to the means which we have found out in our Holy Assembly, speedily to restore Their Majesties to their Throne; which is, to publish a Declaration to their English Subjects, therein desiring 'em not to join with King William, with Promise to obtain all their Privileges, and to give full Liberty to the English Religion, to send back all the Foreign Soldiers so soon as he shall be restor'd to his [Page 81]Throne: to let 'em see also that their manner of dispossessing him, was unjust, by justifying his Conduct; desiring also the Lords of the King­dom to come to Paris to be present at the Delivery of the Queen, for the Dissipating of all false Reports that ran about upon the Death of his Son, the Prince of Wales, and that the Queen's time expir'd the 15th. of May, assuring those that should come into France all the Li­berty they could desire.’

The King and Queen return'd their Hearty Thanks to the Archbishop and all the Holy Society for the Good Counsel they had given. Prayers were also appointed to be made in all the Churches for the Blessing of Heaven upon all King James's Enterprizes; and Te Deum was sung before-hand, there being no Question but that Victo­ry would favour him.

Some days after all this devout Hurly-burly, the Court remov'd to Marli, to divertise themselves, where the Count Lausun, always Courtly according [Page 82]to his Custom, gave the most magni­ficent Regale that ever was seen. Balls and Comedies were not omitted for the Ladies to spend their time with plea­sure and delight. The next day the Count carry'd the Queen, together with the Princesses of Conti, d' Espiney, and Soissons, to an Opera, where the Queen, who is a passionate Lover of Musick, was charm'd with a young Damsel's Voice, who sung the last Airs of Baptist. The Countess of Rourre, who was one of those that went to Marli, was one of the first that re­turn'd, that she might have more time to tast the Sweets of her Engagement with the Prince of Turenne. At that time it was, that he was so weak as to Sign a little Note with his Blood to that same Charming Countess, where­in he promis'd to love her as long as he liv'd, and never to change. On the other side, Madam de Rourre ap­pear'd so charm'd with his Promise, that she flung her self about his Neck, and tenderly embrac'd him, telling him withal, That she would be as faith­ful to him as her Strength would per­mit. [Page 83]For you know, my Dear, (con­tinu'd the Cunning Coquet) that Wo­men, such as I am, are subject to strange Temptations: Nevertheless, I assure yee, I will separate my self from the World, to the end I may give my self up wholly to you. This was then the Opinion of the Fair Countess, who at the same time presented her Illustrious Gallant with her Picture in a little Box, and several other Toys as Pledges of her Love. The Prince al­so Sign'd another Note with his blood, that she should never see the Picture again till the Hour of his Death, which fell out to be as he said: for he was Slain at the Battel of Steen­kirk.

By this time the Queen being de­liver'd, infus'd a general Joy into all the Court for the Birth of a second Child. Our Pious Monarch had de­sir'd the Dutchess of Orleans his Sister-in-Law to be God-mother. But by Misfortune that Princess who had a great Desire to have been at the Queen's Labour, came too late, tho' she set forth from St. Clou, with all speed that might [Page 84]be. However every Body congratu­lated King James for his good Fortune: and several Ladies of Great Quality always stay'd in the Queen's Chamber, by Lewis the Great's Order, who ten­derly lov'd the Princess, and took de­light in thinking that by his Tillage she had produc'd so fair a Crop. And indeed this Infant was compos'd of several Essences; which in time will give it a most Admirable Odour in the World, and be a means to perpetuate his Memory. Monsieur the Arch­bishop made frequent Visits to the Queen, during her Lying-in, particu­larly to give her his Benediction, and make her some other Presents of things necessary for the Support of Life. Telling her withall, to divertise her, That he had order'd to be car­ry'd to his Country-House, upon the Road from Charenton to Conflans, seve­ral sorts of Liquor fit to be presented to the Table of the Gods. Among the rest a certain Brewage which the Archbishop had caus'd to be made at Paris; but I know not the Composi­tion. 'Tis sufficient to let yee under­stand, [Page 85]that the Queen and several other Ladies, sometimes took a little too much of this Nectar, when they went to visit our Apostolick; which caus'd 'em to sleep very contentedly in the Arms of that Illustrious Gallant, who frequently lay'd aside his Violet Cas­sock to put on the Habit of Madam President Bretonvilliers, whom he had lov'd above all his Mistresses to­gether. But in regard that Time is a Thing that cannot be stopp'd, Age had worn away the Allurements of that Fair Lady. Which was the Reason that Monsieur the Archbishop had a little neglected her for more Youthful Play-fellows, and which were better worth his Trouble. The Abbess of Monmatry also had the same Destiny, because her Nuns that were in the Spring of their Years, far more delight­fully charm'd the Venerable Prelate. For which reason he had always some particular Benediction to bestow up­on those Pious Damsels, who devout­ly return'd him Thanks out of a Re­ligious Motive of Gratitude.

The Report that was spread about Paris of the Descent that King William design'd to make into France, set all Tongues a talking of nothing so much as of setting forth a Great Fleet for King James. For which reason Four hun­der'd Vessels were stopp'd to carry Twelve thousand Soldiers, as well Horse as Foot, in defence of our Un­fortunate Prince: and this Fleet was to be guarded by Twelve Men of War, under the Command of the Duke d' Estrees, who had 'em ready fitted out at Toulonne. In the mean time King James, who arriv'd at the Hogue the 29th. of April, began to embark his Men: but by reason of the Bad Weather which oppos'd his Designs, they prov'd abortive to his great Sorrow. Which oblig'd him to write a Letter to all the English Soldiers and Seamen, where­in he promis'd several Recompences, if they would be faithful to him, as also to maintain 'em in their Employments, with a great Number of Fair Words of the same Nature. But no body came to take his part, so that the poor Prince, unhappy in every thing he undertakes, [Page 87]was constrain'd to return with Igno­miny to Paris, after he had waited a long time at La Hogue for a Wind, that would not blow him one King Blast, notwithstanding all his Vows and Prayers to St. Barbe, who is the Pro­tector of the Seamen, when they de­voutly recommend themselves to him for Succour. I know not whether King James pray'd with a Faith strong enough; but certain it is, the dogged Saint would by no means hearken to the Cries of his Suppliant at that time. This was a terrible Blow to the Court of France, and a Heart-breaking to the Pious Society of the Reverend Fathers of the Company of Jesus. Every one in particular wish'd a thou­sand Mischiefs to the Huguenots and their King: and the Jesuitical Cabal plung'd in despair to see that Fortune turn'd her Back upon 'em, lay'd several Criminal Designs well known to all the World, which came to nothing. The Queen, who was got abroad a­gain, appear'd every where with a Pensive Countenance, and took no pleasure in any thing. She was always [Page 88]at the Convent of Mercy in the Faux­burgh St. Germain, with Madam the Princess of Carignan a devout Old Wo­man that eat up her Saints Images with Kissing 'em, and wore out the Linea­ments of their Faces with continual rubbing and cleaning 'em. But the Queen, perceiving the Extraordinary Piety of this Reverend Piece of An­tiquity, could not long agree with her Humour. Those Pleasures to which our Princess was by Nature prone, return'd every Moment to her Re­membrance; maugre all these Misfor­tunes, her Lovers were always wel­come to her, and her deep Affection caus'd her to forget the Fatality of her Star. For which reason it was, that when our tenderly enamour'd Princess did not see her dear Curate, she would say to her self, that he knew not how to make his best Advantage of the most sensible Passion in the World; and that of all Pleasures, that of being reciprocally belov'd was the sweetest. Just at the time when the Queen was in this Trance, so favou­rable to Love it was, that Lewis the [Page 89]Great found her in her Cabinet leaning upon the Table, with her Eyes half shut, and in such a Careless Dress as shew'd that the Amorous Caresses of one of her Gallants would not have been displeasing to her: so that our Monarch took his Advantage of the Shepherd's Hour, nor did the Queen oppose him but very weakly. All she said to him, giving him a wishful Look, was only this, Oh Sir, you wound me. In which part, Madam, (cry'd the King, altogether surpriz'd) I should be mightily concern'd if any thing but Good should befall yee by my means. 'Tis my Heart, dear Prince, which you have so sensibly touch'd, that makes me Sigh. I always touch Ladies (reply'd his Majesty laughing) in the most sensible Parts.

The Queen was about to speak, when she was in a strange Surprize to see Madam de Maintenon come into her Chamber, the Door of which by Misfortune was left open. But if the Queen were surpriz'd, the Marchio­ness was no less astonish'd to see the King lying upon the Queen's Bed by [Page 90]her side, and that in none of the mo­destest Postures neither, which made her start two Steps backward. Sancta Maria, cry'd our Abbess, (lifting up her Eyes to Heaven) what Sight is this I see! Oh Sir, Human Frailty always over-rules you, and you will never be wise for your Health—You know the wrong you do that little strength that is left yee by making Attempts beyond your Power. The King who lay still upon the Bed, not being able to recover himself from the Surprize he was in to hear the Reproaches of the Marchioness, which at the same time dis­cover'd to the Queen his Majesty's in­ability to undertake the Combates of Love, at length answer'd the Marchi­oness very rudely, That she was too bold to reprove him like a Child; that he was King and able to govern him­self—and then looking upon her with a Frown of Contempt—Be gone (said he) you will extreamly oblige me. Upon which Madam de Mainte­non made a low Curt'sie, and retir'd out of the Room. The Queen who feign'd her self asleep all this while, and [Page 91]as if she had heard nothing before her Rivaless, so soon as she was gone, I am lost for ever, (said she to the King) this Lady has discover'd our Famili­arity, and she will ruin my Reputa­tion if she can. She dares not (re­ply'd the King) she is too great a Po­litician to prefer the Pleasure of her Revenge before her Fortune in this World: rest your self content for that: I am Master of my own Will, and I will love whom I please. In the mean time Sir, (reply'd the Princess) I am deep­ly concern'd for one thing. How could this jealous Woman divine that Your Majesty was here? I must con­fess indeed that Love has a Piercing Eye, when it lodges in the Heart of an Old Woman, and who is not only concern'd, but jealous to the highest degree. Talk no more of it (said our Monarch, embracing his divine Mi­stress) all will go well.

So soon as the King had taken his leave of the Queen, he return'd to Ver­sailles, where he was a long time with­out seeing Madam de Maintenon, who kept her Station at St. Cyr, during her [Page 92]Exile, not being able to recover her self from the harsh Expressions which the King had made use of to let her understand how much he was displeas'd. But at length, having consider'd the Condition of her Affairs, and the Pro­pensities of her Heart, Oh—(said she to her self) how weak is a Woman when she is in Love! but yet the Con­quest of a King is a Precious Thing which any prudent Woman would study to preserve. Immediately there­fore she went to the King, who was then alone in his Chamber, and walk­ing in a melancholy posture. Pre­sently the Marchioness threw her self at his Knees and begg'd his Pardon. The King, who is the greatest Cour­tier living, could not endure to see a Woman, whom he had vehemently lov'd, so submissive at his Feet; so that he took her by the Hand and rais'd her up, saying to her no more then this; I am convinc'd of your Sincerity; but be more discreet for the future. Oh—Sir, (reply'd Madam de Maintenon) I am guilty, because it is your Maje­sty's Pleasure I should be so. 'Tis true [Page 93]that I oppos'd your Pleasures, but it was because I was too zealous for your Good, that I have brought upon me your Displeasure. But the King, who was unwilling to rip up old Stories, fell upon other Discourse, and asked her what News of the Princess of Conti whom he had not seen for some Days.

The Marchioness, after she had gi­ven a full Account of what he deman­ded from her, return'd to St. Cyr; where she was no sooner arriv'd, but King James, who was quite tyr'd out with musing upon his Misfortunes, came to give her a Visit. Nor was Madam de Maintenon at all disturb'd to see him. For in regard she had a Se­cret Intrigue with him, she made no Scruple to tell him the whole Story of the King, and the Queen his Wife; which very much surpriz'd King James. But after the Marchioness had entrusted him with this Secret, and made him understand the Danger of making a Noise of it, which was not convenient for a Hunder'd Reasons of Policy, Sir, (said she to him) dissemble [Page 94]the Wrong your Wife do's yee, and Revenge your self by paying her in the same Coin. You acknowledg'd to me, That the last Engagement you had, would have diverted yee with a thousand Pleasures, if the Fair Lady that you lov'd would but have answer'd your Passion: but there is no always ill Success in the Fortune of Love; there is sometimes a Calm in Cupid's Empire, as there is Peace and Tran­quillity in other Dominions of the World. I have one of my Girls which I intend to discard, because she begins to be a little wantonly enclin'd, and for that she is too easie in her Love of Men, which is not proper for Saint Cyr, where we must have nothing but Good Instructions and Good Examples for the Youth that are under my Care. It may be said in Praise of this Damsel, tho' she have this failing, that she is one of the most amiable Girls in the World. She has lovely Eyes well en­chas'd, an Admirable Complexion, a little Mouth, Teeth whiter then Ivory, her Neck well built, and a Curious Shape; she is neither too tall nor too [Page 95]short: in a Word, she has all to sa­tisfie the most curious Eye. For which reason the Count of St. Manre always call'd her his Delight; nor do I believe that the Dauphin hates her; which is a Thing I cannot suffer; for I do not like it, that he should thrust his Nose into my Business; besides that we have not been Cater-Cousins ever since I said, that the Princess of Turenne and the Countess of Rourre were a couple of Coquets.

Well, Madam, (said the King, in­terrupting her) if I should address my self to the Lady you speak of, what likelyhood of Success for me, since those brisker Sparks enjoy her. Oh—Sir, you go too fast, they have not had the handling of her yet; for I verily believe this pretty Girl has her Mai­denhead still, tho' to her Sorrow. You will oblige me therefore to crop those early Flowers. For by that means shall I revenge my self of the Queen your Wife, and upon the Dauphin, who begins to relish Kissing of Wo­men.

I am of your Opinion, (reply'd the King, laughing) I believe he will become more gentle and civiliz'd among the Ladies. Come, come, (reply'd the Mardchioness) I believe him as sensible of Love as other Men, only he loves Privacy in his Amours, he do's not publish 'em by Sound of Trumpet in the City, like Lewis the Great, when he makes any new Dis­covery. I remember when he was a Young Man, and in Love with the Tapstry Weaver's Daughter of Ver­sailles, and the Fair Madelon Denis, who was also the Daughter of a Well-digger of the same Place, he never car'd that any Body should know he went to visit his Mistresses, and if any Body that knew him, surpriz'd him in their Houses, he was gone presently, making as if he only came to look up­on their Work. I believe, Madam, all that you say of the Dauphin, (re­ply'd the King) but 'tis true that the Count of St. Maure frequently visits Mademoiselle de Broisy, our Charming Picardin. That's nothing, Sir, there is no Danger, (reply'd the Marchio­ness, [Page 97]that Spark of Venus never visits her but by Night; his Amour is No­cturnal, of the same Nature as the wooing of Cats, that Court one ano­ther upon the Tiles by the light of the Moon; provided you make your Vi­sits in the Day-time, you will never be interrupted with the sight of him. For this same pretty Minion of the Dau­phin's observes all his Methods. The King of Albion having quitted Madam de Maintenon, went the next day, after he had spruc'd himself up, to see Ma­demoiselle de Broisy, who had left the Marquis's Convent and liv'd with an old Aunt of hers in the Fauxburgh Saint Honorè. So soon as the Young Damsel saw King James, she fell a laughing — Sir, said she—what brings you hither? Surely Madam de Maintenon must have intruded upon your Civility to make you thus the Messenger to deliver her Errands. Not so, Fair One, (reply'd the King) 'tis only my Desire to kiss your Hands, that makes me pay you this Visit. Sir, (said Ma­demoiselle de Broisy) I am infinitely oblig'd to you for the Honour which [Page 98]you do me. After some Comple­ments, King James would fain have been Caressing her, after the Manner of the Court of France, where they never make any tender Protestations to Ladies, but presently go to the point—which not a little surpriz'd the Lady, who ask'd him what he in­tended to be at?—nothing but the sweet Game of Kissing, my Dear Mi­nioness, (reply'd the King) if you please. Oh Sir, (reply'd the Young Lady) there are so many Kissers i'the World now adays, that they put me out of Conceit with Love — Recall your wandring Affections home again, and cease to tire your self with Lust­ful Desires, which may warm your Imagination, but otherwise expose you to Vexation and Sorrow. Such a dry Answer put King James into such a disorder, that he had not a Word to say for himself. And the Charming Picardin, observing how she had si­lenc'd the Poor King, left him with a Smile of Derision, and said no more to him.

King James, who was troubl'd at the Ill Success of his Amour, made a faith­ful recital of it to the Marchioness of Maintenon, who upbraided him that he had neither the Means nor the Art to win a Lady's Affection, which were two things very necessary for a Man, and also very pleasing. The Prince made Answer, That however, he strook the Ladies in the most tender part, and took the most proper way to warm 'em. But continu'd he with a Sigh, Love is no more favourable to me then Fortune; those two Deities are my declar'd Enemies, tho' I never offended 'em. Madam de Maintenon put an end to the Discourse by asking the King, whether he would go along with her who was going to visit one of her she Friends, and so they took Coach together.

The Prince of Turenne, whom we left with the Countess de Rourre, find­ing the Time drawing near that he was to go to the Army, made frequent Vi­sits to his dear Mistress, as if some fore­bodings of Death had hinted to him that he should never see her again. [Page 100]And this was that which he told her every day, as she sate upon his Knee. Ha! my Dear, my Adorable, I shall never return more, my Mind and something within me tells me so. Yet all the Reluctancy I have to leave the World is only for thy sake. And so saying, he could not forbear dropping some few Tears, which the Countess wip'd away, fondling him with a thou­sand Caresses—Why should you re­tain such mournful Thoughts, my dear Prince, (said she) I hope your Better Fortune will bring you back again. 'Tis not that which so much disturbs me, but that which makes my Life happy, your Amiable Presence will be eclips'd for some time from me. How difficult a thing it is to keep those Blessings which we most delight in.

The Prince of Turenne who saw her somewhat dejeced by what he had said, took her in his Arms to comfort her. Never did Lovers give each other greater Proofs of mutual Affe­ction then they two did; the Days were too short for 'em to taste the Sweets of Love; and therefore they [Page 101]spent whole Nights together without being tir'd, which rarely happens in Amorous Combats. But our Charm­ing Countess is generally indefatigable in the Sports of Venus; the more she tastes, the more greedy she is. For which important Reason it was, that she always entertain'd a Croud of Lo­vers that were ready to serve her in their turns. Nor do I speak this with­out good Ground. For so soon as the Prince of Turenne had left her, and gi­ven her a thousand Assurances of his Fidelity, some few Hours after, the Dauphin, who came to visit her, spent the remainder of the Day and the next Night with her.

Her Inconstancy and fickle Humour is well known at Court, and the Prin­cess of Conti was in the Right When she upbraided the Prince of Turenne for his want of Niceness in adhering so stedfastly to a Woman that was so prodigal of her Favours to all Comers and Goers, and who many times un­seasonably meets 'em half way. The Princess of Turenne is not a Woman of this Character; for she never cares to [Page 102]pester her self with many Sighers at a time; and 'tis said that she never lov'd any Body so tenderly as the Dauphin who had not the same Sentiments for her. What a folly 'tis for a Lady to love by her self? In a Man that weak­ness is to be pardon'd, because he is more capable of Love then Women, who ought always to be the last and much more Circumspect in setting their Af­fections: for nothing is more dange­rous then to embark in an Amour. Alas! 'tis a common thing to Ship­wrack in the Port of Hope, when we think our selves in safety: the surest way therefore is to love but slightly, and without Vehemency of Attach­ment. What probability is there (said the Fugitive Queen some time since to the Princess of Conti, who con­demn'd Violent Passions) for a Wo­man to preserve her Heart for Indiffe­rency, which is the Winter of Love. Oh, Madam, (reply'd the Queen singing the following Lines, [Page 103]

'Tis true, (continu'd the Queen) an En­gagement sometimes cost us very dear; but how shall we pass away our Youth without a little Love. That Passion is all the Pleasure of Life; and the Days seem long without a little Em­ployment for the Heart, which de­lightfully spends our time. Monsieur the Archbishop, who overheard all the Ladies discourse at the Door, fell into a loud Laughter, which made the Prin­cess of Conti rise from her Seat to see who was there; but she was strangely surpriz'd when she beheld the Illustri­ous [Page 104]Prelate. Thereupon they chang'd their Subject, and fell to talk of Piety; which the Queen did onpurpose, to the end they might not suspect her Intrigue with the Roman Doctor; but 'twas in vain for her to play the Hy­pocrite; for her wistful Looks de­clar'd the Contrary. Besides that the Princess of Conti has too quick a Wit, to be ignorant of the Queen of Qlbion's Gallantries. The Queen also her self observ'd that there was an Eye upon her; which made her leave the Com­pany sooner then otherwise she would have done; then which there could have been nothing more favourable to the sanctify'd Prelate, who desir'd above all things an Opportunity to make known to her Majesty the Excess of his Love. The Queen, who still dis­sembl'd at her usual rate, feign'd that all the Caresses of her Lover were most acceptable to her, and that she preferr'd 'em before all others; which greatly aug­mented the Prelate's Delight, belie­ving himself the most fortunate of Men, in possessing the Heart of so amiable a Princess entirely to himself. But Men [Page 105]are frequently deceiv'd in their Hopes, particularly about Matters of Love, which promises more Felicity then it has in store, and fills the Thoughts of those that Love with a thousand airy Blessings. Thus it was that Monsieur the Archbishop flatter'd his Passion, in caressing the Queen, who assur'd him on her part, That she would be faith­ful to him as long as she liv'd, and that she could never love any other but him­self, for Reasons that her Majesty could not express.

All these tender Protestations being at an end, the Archbishop took his leave of the Queen, and went with his Of­ficial to meet the Bishop of Meaux at the House of one of the Presidents, who liv'd at Lisle Notredam. After he had dis­cours'd of Publick Affairs, and of the Decrees which our Monarch had issu'd forth, the two Prelates went to re­create themselves at Conflans about a small League from Paris, where they drank so much of the Archbishop's good Wine, that it warm'd the devout Friends of Bacchus to that degree, as to tell what Favours they had receiv'd [Page 106]from their Mistresses, which put them upon relating several pleasant Stories that held 'em a long time. The Bi­shop of Meaux drank the Queen's Health smiling upon the Archbishop, who pledg'd the Company very cour­teously, telling 'em withal, That no­thing was more acceptable to him, then to hear 'em talk of that Princess, in whom he had observ'd an Extraor­dinary Merit, and that Fortune was not just to abandon her Cause. What you say is true Sir, (said the President) but we are not alway rewarded ac­cording to our Deserts; wherefore your Artists paint that Deity Blind. Upon that, the Bishop of Meaux could not forbear desiring his Friends to drink a good Health to the Arch­bishop's Inclinations, naming no Body. But in regard the Conquests that Love makes, can be no more conceal'd then Fire it self, every Body knew that Fair Ladies took up the greatest part of that Illustrious Prelate's time. The Pre­sident, laughing at the same time, said that Madam de Bourneville had a great Share in the Joy that appear'd in the [Page 107]Bishop of Meaux's Countenance. Nor did that Prelate much gainsay it; quite the contrary, with a Courtly Aire he confess'd that he was as sensible of the Charms of handsome Ladies as another Man, and that his Character could not mortifie his Passions, and that the Pro­hibitions of the Church forbidding Ma­trimony, and the touching any Wo­man, did but corroborate the Propen­sity of Men to that Sex. Every Body applauded the Bishop's Opinion, which was maintain'd for Truth by several Glasses of Wine which they drank off, and then threw over their Shoulders in honour of the Ladies. Never was so much Incense offer'd to Bacchus and Venus as that Day, which seem'd to be one of their Festi­vals. After this Debauch was at an end, which lasted a day or two, the Pious Fathers of the Roman Catholick Church return'd to Paris more serious then ever.

King James whom the bad Con­dition of his Affairs had cast into a deep Melancholly, and who knew not how to imploy himself to dissipate his Trouble, and to di­vert [Page 108]the mournful Idea's that crouded his Thoughts for the Loss of his Crown; spent his time in a thousand Trifles. Amongst the rest, he very frequently went to see his Son, the Little Prince of Wales, to dandle him, and hear his Prittle-prattle, which was very Extra-ordinary, considering his Years. Ma­demoiselle de Bordage, a French Wo­man, who was plac'd about him to teach him the Language, and to go­vern him in the Absence of his Tutor, always made a faithful Relation of the hopeful Parts of the Young Prince, which made the King often laugh at her manner of Expressing her self. But as it is impossible to avoid loving handsome Persons, nor to let 'em un­derstand as much, King James re­solv'd to make a Tryal of his Skill, maugre his unwillingness to do it. For the Poor Prince had so ill suc­ceeded in his Amours, as well as in every thing else, that he durst not at­tempt the making of tender and amo­rous Declarations. Nevertheless the Posture of his Affairs requir'd it, to the end he might dispell the Troubles [Page 109]of his Mind, as we have said al­ready.

One day, this solitary Prince said sighing to Madam Bordage, That he was the most unfortunate of Men in all his Undertakings, and that he never prosper'd in any thing, which reduc'd him sometimes to that Despair, that Death it self would have been wel­come to him. And indeed the King had no great Reason to take any Plea­sure in this Life; for every Body look'd upon him with Contempt since his Fatal Fall. Mrs. Bordage seem'd to be compassionately mov'd with the King's bemoaning his Affliction to her; so that she endeavour'd to com­fort him up the best she could. VVherein King James observ'd a great deal of good Nature, and thank'd her for her being so much concern'd in his Troubles. His Majesty spent some time in Acknowledgment which grw up to Love, and which he kept secret in his Heart, without speaking a Word for above six Months. But in regard that Passion cannot last long without bursting forth, the King, who [Page 110]was troubl'd with concealing it longer, resolv'd to speak of it to her that had given it Birth and Growth: but stil in dubious and far-fetch'd Expressions, only to sound the Ladies Intentions. The Fair Lady, who thought the King was talking to her of some Advantage­ous Match, shew'd her self nothing Squeamish in her Answers. Which con­firm'd our Amorous Prince in his Hopes. For which reason, he urg'd her one day to tell him, Whether she could tenderly Love an Honest Gentle­man who should think himself happy to please her. Sir, (said she) I know not what to say, you puzzle me with your Proposal, for I would willingly see the Person you propound. You know, Sir, (continu'd she) that we must have a Sight of the Objects be­fore we fix our Love, that we may have some Foundation for our Passion. 'Tis very certain, Madam, (reply'd King James) but true Lovers are still afraid of being favourably heard; and therefore they are not so forward to declare themselves at first. If this Person you speak of, Sir, be a Person [Page 111]of Merit, for any thing else, you need not fear his being belov'd. That Con­ceit of Madam Bordage's made the King laugh, who reply'd, I find, Madam, that you love handsome Young Men that have a great Deal of Wit. Yes, Sir, (answer'd she) I have always had a Kindness for deserving Gentlemen. The King, perceiving this Lady would never love a Person who had so little to recommend him as he had, she ath'd up his Comple­ments, without saying any more, lea­ving the rest to Fortune; tho' there is no great likelyhood that she will ever be kind to that miserable Prince.

The Curate of St. Martin, who had not seen his divine Queen in some time, went to the Convent of Mercy to vi­sit one of his Kinswomen, with a design to meet the Queen there, who frequently went to visit the Princesses of Soissons, both Prisoners in that place. But so soon as the Curate saw her Majesty, he chang'd Colour, and seem'd to be abash'd, which the Com­pany well observ'd, tho' they thought him only dash'd out of Countenance [Page 112]by the Queen's Presence. But they were quite other Motions which caus'd that Disturbance in our Illustri­ous Gallant. His Love for that Prin­cess put him sometimes into strange Disorders, which however he took great Care to conceal. But the Queen, who was not so scrupulous, chid him frequently for so doing, tho' he begg'd her still to dissemble their Intrigue as much as she could.

After they had been for some time at the Convent, and talk'd of several Pleasant and Witty Things, the Queen took her leave of the sorrowful Sisters, and went to take a Promenade in her Coach with the Curate of St. Martin, as also to make two or three Visits, which by no means pleas'd the Abbot, who lov'd privacy in Sinning, and who would have lik'd it much better to have been Head to Head with his Princess in her Chamber. However Good Manners would not permit him to leave her, and there was no other way but Patience; for he must follow all the Dances the Queen led him.

At length the Sun beginning to Set, [Page 113]oblig'd the Queen to return to Saint Germains with her Lover, who was weary of running from Visit to Visit, and seem'd to be glad of a little Soli­tude with his dear Mistress. The Queen therefore desiring him to walk up into her Chamber, lay down upon the Bed with her Soul-saving Curate by her, who several times assur'd her of his Love, and his Tenderness for her Majesty. To which the Queen em­bracing him, made answer, That she should have a perpetual Love for him, and that she would never change her Inclination. And their Conversation was still upon the same Subject, when Madam Bordage was sent to give the Queen notice that Supper was read. With that our Lovers some­what heated with their Amorous Dal­liances, took time to cool themselves before they went down. The Curate also would fain have been going home, but the Queen desir'd him to Sup with her; to which, with much ado He consented. For the poor Cu­rate was always out of Order when he had been caressing the Princess; [Page 114]which put him into a kind of Con­fusion when he came into Com­pany.

The Queen observing his Weakness, upbraided him before she left the Cham­ber. What! (said she) my Dear, such a Novice to be thus out of Heart upon a little Amorous Combat! you will never make a true Soldier of Venus, if you have not more Courage and more Resolution. Come, come, (said the Queen, taking him by the Arm) the Meat is upon the Table, and Supper will grow cold; two or three Glasses of Wine will revive your Strength, and put yee ino a better Humour. That said, the Curate could not for­bear laughing at the sprightly Gaiety of the Queen. However all the Supper­time, not a Word of any thing but Piety and Devotion, which the Italian Ladies always observe to do, when they are with their Gallants, to per­suade the World that they have been doing no Harm, and that their Fami­liarity goes not so far as Courtship, which requires great Caution. But for all that, they may give Credit to [Page 115]outward Appearances that please; we must needs say that the Fugitive Queen leaves nothing omitted to di­vertise her self, and to forget her Mis­fortunes which would every day pre­sent to her Eyes a thousand dreadful Idea's, did she not take care to remove 'em from her sight.

After they had Supp'd, the Queen retir'd to her Chamber, where she play'd at Cards for an Hour or two with her Gallant, who knew the King James was abroad, and that he would not return home by such a Time. Their Discourse all the while was ex­treamly Pleasant and Jocular, and a thousand pleasant Things were dis­cours'd of to pass away the time. The Curate was never in such a brisk Hu­mour as at that Instant, his Eyes sparkling with an Amorous Fire, and the most tender in the World, which extreamly pleas'd his Princess, who was not wanting on her part to supply the Conversation with a thousand Fancies and Witty Jokes that naturally flow'd from her, for which reason she is [Page 116]tenderly belov'd by those that are inti­mate with her.

And now the Night being far spent, the Curate took his leave, after seve­ral Adieu's, intermix'd with most pas­sionate and sensible Assurances. For the Queen who was weary of Saint Germains, has made a Match with a Lady of her Intimate Acquaintance to spend two or three Months with her at her House about six Leagues from Paris. Which was the Reason that our two Lovers had much ado to part; and tho' the most tender Pro­testations were made use of, they could not forbear letting fall Tears in abundance, particularly the Curate, whose Soul was very sensible of the Absence of his Beloved, and who suf­fer'd the loss of her with an Impati­ent Grief. As for the Queen, she was more easily rid of her Sorrow, having a large and spacious Heart, which was the Reason that her Melancholy had the more room; besides that she lov'd several Persons at a time, which divi­ded her several ways, and freed her [Page 117]from any vehement Attachment. And now the Day for her departure being come, the Queen went to take her leave of her Friends, not forgetting the Archbishop to whom she pay'd a Visit, under pretence of consulting with him about Important Affairs, which infus'd an extraordinary Joy into the Prelate, who splendidly re­gal'd his Princess. Mean while, the Dutchess of Nemours, and the Marchio­ness of Seignelay, who were of the Knot, waited at her Home with great Impa­tience, for it was high time to be gone. But the Queen, who was well at ease with her enamour'd Piece of Gravity, never thought of her Company; which constrain'd the Marchioness to send one of her Pages to let the Queen un­derstand that the Marchioness stay'd for her. With that the Queen took her leave of her enamour'd Father Grizzle, who waited on her in his long Violet Robe to her Coach, tenderly Kissing her Hand at parting.

So soon as the Ladies saw the Queen, Wemust confess, Madam, (said they with a Smile) that Religious Persons [Page 118]have a great Ascendant over your Ma­jesty, and you are so passionately in Love with the Fathers of the Church, that 'tis a trouble to yee to leave their Company. 'tis true indeed, Ladies, that the Archbishop is the most Com­plaisant Person in the World. He wants neither Discourse nor Pleasan­tries to entertain his Guests. Nothing less, Madam, then our Archbishop's Talents can merit your Eestem (re­ply'd the Dutchess of Nemours.) But let us lose no time—we have a long Journey to Ride. Thereupon the Queen and the rest of the Company, took Coach and left the Town, to the great Grief of their Lovers.

The next Day the Queen being arriv'd at Lily with her small Court, Hunting-Matches, Banquets, and a thousand other Country Divertise­ments, afforded every Day new Sup­plies of Pleasure. But in regard that Mirth is never perfect without the Masculine Sex, the Ladies, when they saw two or three Cavaliers of their Ac­quaintance that came to visit 'em, their Pleasures redoubl'd in seeing the [Page 119]Lords, who corresponded to the Best of their Power with the Ladies Civi­lities. Among the rest, there was the Chevalier de Soissons, who fell in Love with the Queen's good Humour and her Wit, which she can wind and turn to Sport and Merriment as she pleases. I admire how this Princess could har­bour so much Jocundry, considering her Adversities, which would have cast any other but her self into an Abyss of Grief, and caus'd her for ever to re­nounce the World. Yet those mourn­ful Idea's make no Impression upon her Majesty. On the other side, the more our Italian is oppress'd with Calamity, the more she addicts her self to her Delights.

The Chevalier de Soissons, who left nothing omitted to second the Inclina­tion of his Princess, supply'd her with all the most Charming Pleasures he could invent; and because he knew she was a Passionate Lover of Musick, and of whatever was grateful to the Sences, he entertain'd her with the most Harmonious Simphonies in the World of all sorts of Instruments in [Page 120]the middle of a Forrest; after which, there was a Magnificent Collation rea­dy prepar'd under a Shady Bower: All which Divertisements would have ex­treamly pleas'd the Queen, had they cost her nothing. But the Chevalier who never did something for nothing, but expected that the Favours of the Prin­cess should reimburse him for his Ex­pences, never left her, perceiving in her Physiognomy that she was none of the cruellest, and that she lov'd the Company of Men. Wherein he was not deceiv'd, seeing it was the Queen's weak side. She has also several times confess'd, that Love was the thing to which she was most enclin'd, and which charm'd her above any thing in the World. For which reason, Men that admir'd the Female Sex were always welcome to her. But as for thi last Gallant, the Princess had other measures to take. For the Chevalier de Soissons was the Archbishop's Intimate Crony and his Confident. That Prelate entrusted this Young Spark with all his Secrets, because he was the most discreet and faithful of all that he had honour'd with his Friendship.

All these Considerations kept the Queen's Mind in suspence: she knew not what to do, to satisfie her new Lo­ver, who every day gave her a thou­sand Proofs of his Affection, and who could not live a Minute absented from her. How shall I dare to trust a Young Man, (said she to her self) who it may be after he has receiv'd all the Favours I can bestow upon him, will make it his delight to boast of 'em pub­lickly in the City, as all Persons of his Age commonly do, which would be an Extraordinary Trouble to me, particularly if the Archbishop should know it. How would that Prelate be­spatter me with the Reproaches of Faithless and Perfidious, after so many Oaths and Assurances, as I have given him! No Darling of Venus, that sollicit me to Infidelity, flatter me no more with your new Charms, since my Du­ty opposes your Pleasures. Thus the Queen argu'd with her self at some times, and at others was e'en ready to surrender to him the most precious Jewel she had, not being able to with­stand the Importunate Charms of her [Page 122]Victor. At length, one day that this Princess was alone with the Chevalier, and that she felt her Heart very tender, and not able to resilt a Violent Temp­tation, she would have gone away from him. But the Chevalier stopp'd her, tenderly asking her the Reasons why she fled him. I know not, (re­ply'd the Queen, with a troubl'd Countenance) I feel my self so feeble and haunted with an Idea which per­plexes me, that I cannot tell how to express it to yee. Ah! Madam, (cry'd the Chevalier, who knew what it was that troubl'd the Princess) would I might be so happy as to be able to allevi­ate your Pains, and lessen your Sorrows. Oh, Sir, (reply'd the Queen with a mournful Tone) your Presence do's but aggravate 'em—how troublesome a thing it is to Love—She stopp'd at this last Word, which she utter'd notwithstanding the Opposition of her Tongue. Her Heart no longer able to dissemble, spoke in despite of her Re­luctancy, as usually it happens to Per­sons that would disguize their Love. But the Chevalier who would not be put off [Page 123]with these little Shilly-shally Tricks, [...]hrew himself presently at her Feet, and Kissing her Hands a thousand times, [...]wore to her, That he lov'd her better [...]hen himself, and that he should be the [...]ost unfortunate of Men if she had [...]ot Compassion upon him in the Con­ [...]ition wherein he was. The Princess, who was as much Embarrass'd as her Gallant, said the same thing to him. Never was seen an Amour so languish­ing, or which rais'd more Pity: To [...]ell yee what they did to comfort them­selves, I will not undertake, because I [...]now nothing but that the next Eve­ [...]ing it was observ'd that the Queen [...]as very Pensive and full of Medita­ [...]on, which the Ladies took notice [...]f by way of Raillery; telling her, That she had some Reasons for quitting [...]eir Company, for that as far they [...]ould understand, the Advantage of [...]e Promenade had redounded to her, [...]nd they had only far'd the better for [...]er Company. The Queen made no an­ [...]wer to this and a thousand other Petty [...]aillieries that were thrown upon Her [...]d the Chevalier, who appear'd well [Page 124]satisfy'd with his Good Fortune, and never regarded what they said. The Dutchess of Nemours could not choose but fall a Laughing to see the Queen sit so gravely and soberly, who spoke very little at all that Evening, feigning her self not well.

The next Morning the Princess, who had reflected upon every thing that pass'd the Day before, found her self a little more Blithe and Gay. It seems the Night which is the Counsellor of all Men, had given her new Vigour and Joy. Which pleas'd the Chevalier, who was troubl'd that his Love had occasion'd her Sadness. After this, they went to walk in the Garden to take the Air; at what time the Queen, mo­ving towards a Fountain to behold the Figures that compass'd it, and spouted Forth Water into several parts of the Garden, gave the Chevalier an Oppor­tunity to stop likewise, and to declare to his Fair Queen the Condition of his Heart in the most Passionate Terms that might be, asking withal how she had pass'd away the Night. Sadly e­nough, (answer'd she with a Sigh) I [Page 125]am afraid my Weakness for your sake will do me an Injury. How! Madam, (reply'd the Chevalier) can you mi­strust the Fidelity of my Love? After the kind Favours I have receiv'd from your Majesty, I should be the most wretched of Mortals, should I betray the most amiable Princess that ever was. These Assurances pacify'd the Queen's Disturbances, and caus'd her to return to Paris with a full Tranquil­lity of Mind, not dreaming that her Young Gallant would have so indis­creetly publish'd the Favours he had receiv'd at her Hands.

However the first thing he did when he saw the Archbishop, was to tell him the whole Story as it had been acted, and that the Queen was very Chari­table. Why say you so, Sir, (reply'd the Prelate smiling) no Body can have too much Compassion for the Mise­rable. 'Tis very true, Sir, (answer'd the Chevalier de Soissons, laughing out­right) true Charity has no Bounds. The Prelate, in a few Words unfolded the Young Chevalier's Enigma, and immediately went and told it to the [Page 126]Queen, who was at her Wits end to find her self so basely betray'd. This is your hare-brain'd Fop, (said she to the Sorbonne Doctor) that you value so highly, who is so impertinent to tell the Greatest Lyes in the World: his Indiscretion deserves Punishment, a Bruit not worthy the Consideration of such a Person as I am. But I shall tell him his own. This said, the Queen went into her Closet, and in the Heat of her Anger wrote the following Lines.

I cannot express the Surprize that seiz'd the Chevalier, when he had read this Letter, He that thought to have diverted himself with his Good For­tune. [Page 128]He presently judg'd it could only come from the Archbishop his good Friend. But in regard that Ri­vals can never agree, the Prelate who was jealous to the highest pitch, could not endure that any Body should speak reproachfully of the Person that he lov'd above all others. For that reason he preferr'd the Princess's Amity before the Chevalier's Friendship, who did but laugh at the Business, and made a hunder'd Jests and Railleries upon it. Among the rest this was one of his Lampoons, speaking in the Person of the Woman.

These Verses did but provoke the Queen, who after her new Gallant had carry'd himself so indiscreetly, [Page 129]would no longer see any Body familiarly, finding 'em unworthy of her Favours, since they had not the power to keep the Secret, which is the main Act in Gallantry, that a Chevalier ought to observe. For Ladies, whose Inclina­tions leads 'em to favour their Gallants, are mad when they meet with Infide­lity. These are the Important Rea­sons why the Queen sees no body that belongs to the Court. She now re­serves all her Tenderness for the Reli­gious Orders, and the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, who are not so gene­rally subjects to Human Frailties as o­thers. These Reverend Fathers have one Perfection which is not to be met with among secular Courtiers. They dare not publish the Favours they re­ceive from Women, out of a Maxim which is hereditary to their Order. You see by this, what good Reason our Princess had to confine her Love with­in the Cloysters. This is the way to have no more occasion of repenting for having condescended to the fickle­ness of the Chevaliers, who cannot sometimes forbear to set upon the [Page 130]Wings of Fame the Kindnesses which they receive from their Mistresses.

However the Queen, after she had for some time taken up a Resolution to see no Body, began to be weary of it, when Monsieur the Curate came to visit her. The Princess was very glad to see him, and was extream­ly Civil, giving him an account of her Troubles, and of the Distin­ction which she made between Him and Others. The Curate far from contradicting her, agreed with her in what she said, and convinc'd her, that there were no Men i'the World that better understood how to preserve a Secret then the Church-men. What you say is very true, (answer'd the Princess) for which reason, I re­nounce all the Gallantries of the Court, that I may wholly devote my self to you without any Reservation, as a thing that is very necessary; for I can­not shake off the Instigations of my Heart; the time seems tedious to me, when I have not something to Love. I confess, Madam, (reply'd the Abbot) that there is no Sweetness in Life with­out [Page 131]a little Love; for the pleasure of Loving is that which seasons all things. Yes, my Dear, (reply'd the Queen, embracing him) I know there is no­thing that lives which can forbear Lo­ving. The most Innocent of Crea­tures make it appear by their tender Caresses. All Nature loves, and there is nothing created but for Pleasure. Oh, Madam, (cry'd the Curate) how I am Charm'd, that you concur with me in my Sentiments; Let us endea­vour to unite our selves so closely toge­ther, that time which wears out the fastest Ligaments may never separate us. You stretch to Immortality, Mr. Abbot (reply'd the Queen, laughing) you know that we cannot live always, and consequently our Love must have an end; but let us Enjoy the Present time as much as lies in our Power. The Queen pronounc'd those Words with an Aire the most amorous i'the World, which incited her Gallant to push the Opportunity forward. So that his En­amour'd Lady throwing her self saint­ly upon a little Bed made after the Italian Fashion, there is no question to be made but that the Curate and his [Page 132]Princess tasted all the Sweets of their tender Affection. Our Lovers were in the midst of their Dalliances, when Word was brought 'em, that King James was coming up Stairs. I leave you to guess how the Young Abbot was disturb'd at this unexpected News. In short, the Queen caus'd him to re­sume his first serious Countenance, and his Cloak, and his Prayer-Book in his Hand, making as if he had been stu­dying his Breviary for the Edification of our Princess, who is extreamly de­vout, as your may perceive by her Re­ligious Conduct.

The King was overjoy'd to find his Consort so piously employ'd. He caress'd her with a world of tender Lan­guage, and was mighty thankful to the Priest, who acted the Hypocrite and the Saint the best that he could. The whole Conversation rowl'd upon Piety and Morality. Never had the Queen so great a desire to have laugh'd out­right to see in what an unlucky Figure she had made the poor Unfortunate Husband appear in, who is the most easie Man in the World, for he be­lieves whatever is said to him with [Page 133]the greatest readiness imaginable.

By this, it growing near Dinner-time, the King invited the Curate, who very modestly excus'd himself, telling his Majesty, That he had Bu­siness of Importance that call'd him home, and which he could not dis­pence withall; but that he was infi­nitely oblig'd to his Majesty for the Honour which he did him. Come, Mr. Curate, (said the Queen, inter­rupting him) you want such a world of intreaty—Come, come, the Of­fer's a good Offer, and not to be re­fus'd. oh, Madam, (answer'd the Curate) 'tis my Misfortune, that 'tis not in my Power to enjoy this Offer, but I hope your Majesty will not take it amiss. After several other Complements, the Queen perceiving that her Invitation did but render her Gallant uneasie, gave him his Liberty, letting him know however by a pri­vate Sign, that she would be glad to see him oftner.

The Abbot, being thus disingag'd from King James's Presence, was the most overjoy'd Man i'the World, and went home to ponder upon the Kind­nesses [Page 134]which he had receiv'd from his Incomparable Princess. These Idea's infus'd a kind of Pride and Vanity in­to him, which his Acquaintance took notice of. For which reason his Sister Madam de Fontaine upbraided him, that he was grown so haughty ever since his Admission into St. James's, that no Body was good enough to keep him Company. You will not always be the Favourite of a Queen, Brother, (said she) the good Fortune that comes from Great People, is as brittle as Glass, which the least fall breaks in pieces. Oh—my dear Sister (reply'd the Cu­rate) I can never believe, there will be a speedy end of the Caresses of that Princess. Truly Brother (an­swer'd his Sister) you are a Man of an Easie Belief, to think that you are the only Man that enjoys the Queen's Fa­vours; she loves all the Hats and Caps she sees; her Love knows no Bounds. The last Adventure she had with the Che­valier de Soissons is no small Stain to her Honour, for that same Lord makes Sport with it to her discredit. If you knew how they talk of her at the Mar­chioness of Seignelays, you would not [Page 135]have so great a Love and Esteem for her as you have. But Sister (answer'd the Curate) do you believe all that is said; every body has the Liberty to Chat what they please. The Mar­chioness lies no less under the lash of Scandal then the Queen. Many times People report a hunder'd Things of which they know nothing at all, telling a thousand Tales only to pass away the Time. Besides, the greatest People are not exempt from the Tongues of Scandal and Calumny. A Man must set himself above such Trifles, if he intends to live at Ease. Mrs. Fontaine who perceiv'd that her Brother was resolv'd to go his own way, left him, and went to visit the Marchioness de P — s who was much her Friend out of a Motive of Interest, for that the Marchioness having a Passionate Love for Madam Fontaine, told her every thing she knew. By which means she came to understand a good part of her Brother's Business with the Queen, for that the Marchioness was every Day with that same Amorous Princess, and was the Depository of her Secrets.

The Marchioness and Madam Fon­taine [Page 136]being thus got together, had a long Chat together in English, all upon the Subject of the Queen's Gallantries, and upon the tender Expressions of the Queen, when she is with her dear Curate Little dost thou know, my dear, (said the Marchioness) how hap­py thy Brother is; the Queen kisses and embraces him a thousand times aday, and talks to him a hunder'd pret­ty things, the most endearing in the World. How came yee too know these Circumstances so particularly, Madam, (said Madam de Fontaine laughing) I know these things, my Dear, (said the Marchioness) because I often find 'em together billing like two Pigeons. Oh! cry'd Mademoi­selle de Fontaine, Has my Brother push'd his Fortune so far? 'Tis very well, Mr. Abbot (continu'd she) I find you are not always at your Books and your Prayers, and that your Con­versation is not altogether so Godly as you would make me believe. He were a Fool (reply'd the Marchioness) if he did not make the Best of the Oppor­tunity which his kind Stars present him. In Sincerity, my dear Child, thy Bro­ther [Page 137]has a Physiognomy that shews him no hater of Ladies, and therefore his Character and Function no way suit with him; besides, dost thou believe he would refuse the Favours which she bestows upon him; no, no—he has more Wit then so. While the Mar­chioness was thus talking, the Queen enter'd the Chamber, and ask'd her if she would go along with her to pay a visit to the Dutchess of Orleans. Now Madam P—s lov'd to accompany the Queen to the Dutchess of Orleans, be­cause she would sometimes say, when she was in a good Humour, that she admir'd that Prince for his Courtly ways above any other Person of the Court, which often made the Queen laugh, who was particularly acquain­ted with Monsieur the Duke, and would many times say that he had too Effeminate an Aire, and was too poor Spirited for a Prince of the Blood. But for all this the Marchioness would be continually speaking in his Praise; and it was observ'd that her Passion grew stronger and stronger. So that the Queen said to her, laugh­ing, one Day, Ah! my Dear, talk no [Page 138]more of thy Inclination; when thou wer't Young, perhaps the Duke might have had some Tenderness for thee; but alas! now, who would mind thee. 'Tis a sad thing when a Woman comes to the Winter of her Age. The Marchioness seem'd some­thing mortify'd by the Queen's Rail­lery, but modestly reply'd, 'Tis true, Madam, what you say; however you must acknowledge that Ages do's not destroy the Passions: Or if it make some alteration in our Complexions, yet still we are sensible of some Re­mainders of what we have been. All this while (reply'd the Queen) I am not arriv'd as yet at your Years, how­ever I begin already to disgust the Fa­miliarity and Courtship of the World. When I consider, my Dear, (conti­nu'd the Queen) how little Men in general deserve the Affection of Wo­men, those Idea's set me at an Incredible Enmity with that Inconstant and Fickle Sex, who for the most part only act by Motives of Vanity, or by some o­ther Principle of as little Value. No, no—Men love not now, nor did they ever Love. I have had several [Page 139]Woful Experiences of it. I find Re­tirement a thousand times more charm­ing: the Pleasures of Sence make those Impressions that grieve and perplex the Mind; whereas the Delights of So­litude are more sweet and not so liable to Vexations. But Madam, (reply'd the Marchioness) is it possible for us to spend our Days always in Contem­plation and Silence? Somewhat of Motion in Life causes all the Sweet­ness of it. I have said the same thing as often as thee, my Dear; but I find by Experience, (answer'd the Queen) that the Motion which charms Thee, is sometimes very dangerous, and that it produces strange Effects. This Con­versation was interrupted by the Count of Lausun, who stay'd a long time with the Queen to divert her with Variety of Stories.

But let us return to the Visit which the Queen gave the Dutchess of Or­leans, where she found a Croud of Per­sons of the Highest Quality. They fell to Play all the Afternoon, and then to the Comedy, which happen'd to be new and very Witty. But all these Pastimes could not dissipate the Queen's [Page 140]Disturbances. Her Thoughts were taken up with the Faithlessness of her Gallants, and the Resolutions she was taking never more to listen to the ten­der Sentiments of her Heart. She was making an Agreement with her Eyes never more to be sensible of the deceit­ful Merits of her Adorers. Possess'd with these Idea's therefore, the Queen retir'd home with a world of Coldness and Indifferency, which extreamly surpriz'd the Company, who knew her brisk and airy Humour: every one argu'd after their own Fancies, and what their Thoughts suggested. Only the Duke of Orleans and Madam Maintenon hit upon the true Cause, and publickly declar'd that her Majesty was resolv'd no longer to keep Company with Men, because she did not find 'em faithful. Wo is me, (reply'd the Princess of Conti) how long has the Queen been troubl'd with this Qualm of Vertuous Sentiments? She was angry with me not long since, because I laugh'd, and said, that Gallantry was always attended with unlucky Consequences. Ma­dam, (reply'd the Duke of Vendosm, smiling) when Women cease to have [Page 141]a winning way, and become the Con­quest of the first that comes, it be­hoves 'em often to excuse their Weak­nesses; but if Women were wise that de­sire a Gallant, they would never change when they have the Good Fortune to meet with one that is discreet: but hu­man Frailty is so prevalent in us, that we want Ragoo's to whet our Appetites. The Duke utter'd these Words with an Aire the most Satyrical in the World. Which the Dutchess of Orleans having observ'd, Pray tell me, Sir, (said she) are you al­ways satisfy'd with one Mistress? and have you never any desire to change? No, Madam, (reply'd the Duke) were I so hap­py to enjoy one, I would no more leave her then the Shadow do's the Body. Ah! Good Man, (cry'd the Dutchess) what Pity 'tis, that so faithful a Lover as you should want a Mistress. How happy are you, (continu'd her Royal Highness) that you are in Love with nothing but Honour. Oh! Madam, (reply'd the Princess of Con­ti) if I may be thought to know, what Monsieur the Dauphin told me t'other Day, this Dissembler is embark'd in a very considerable Engagement. 'Tis Madam de St. Agrement who has now recover'd [Page 142]his Appetite; he is all on Fire for that Fair Lady. The Duke blush'd to hear the Princess declare so openly without any Reservation, and with a serious Tone, Madam, (said he) where had you all this News? 'tis more then I know my self. The Princess upon that, perceiving that she had disgusted the Duke, turn'd the Discourse another way. But Monsieur de Vendosme could not for all that, forbear to manifest his Resentment to the Princess, in forbearing to wait upon her as he was wont to do. The next Day the Dauphin reprimanded him; to whom the Duke reply'd with a serious Aire, I entrusted you with the Secret of my Soul, and you go and tell it again to a Lady who has much ado to conceal her own Privacies. I must needs tell yee, Sir, it very much troubl'd me, and that was the reason I did not wait upon her. Nothing vexes me more then an Amour disclos'd. On the other side, if Madam St. Agremont should come to understand that there was the least suspicion of her being gallanted, I must never see her more; which would be the greatest Torment to me in the World, for I am passionately Enamour'd. I may say, without any Hyberbole, that she is [Page 143]the most amiable Person that ever was born. Forbear to praise your Mistress, (sai the Dauphin) before Persons that may fall in Love with her as well as your self: Love enters into the Heart as well through the Ears as through the Eyes.

Oh, Monsieur, (reply'd the Duke of Vndosme) you are so taken up with your Illustrious Mistresses, that you have not a Minute to spare to cast your Eyes upon others. Be not over confident, (reply'd the Monsieur) Appearances are deceitful; I love Change as well as you: Adieu, I must leave yee for a Moment. Thus the Monsieur left the Duke of Vendosme, and went to see the Countess of Rourre, whom he had promis'd to meet at an appointed Rendezvous.

Let us now return to the Queen, who has now no longer any Inclination to the Gallants of the Court, or if she has, 'tis so indifferent, that she hardly feels her self warm'd by it. She is now fully resolv'd to observe the devout Lessons which the Church-men inspire into heer, and which she finds more pleasing to her Palate, be­cause that this Devotion being well order'd, encloses within it, unknown Mysteries that cover all Appearances of Pleasure [Page 144]and Wantonness. The Convent of Mer­cy, in the Fauxburg St. Germains, is the Usual Place where the Queen now goes to say her Prayers in the Day-time with the Curate of St. Martin, who accompa­nies her in her Pious Exercise, and who Preaches sometimes in terms so full of Piety, that his Hearers must be insensible not to be mov'd with his Religious Orato­ry. 'Tis by that means, (said the Queen) that this discreet Prelate has found the way to my Heart: Devotion enchants me beyond all things in the World.

Thus you see what are now the Reli­gious Sentiments of the Fugitive Queen: we ought to believe that her Heart is sin­cere, and that she is too generous to dis­guize it. Nevertheless, together with this Devotion she cannot avoid reserving still, so far as I can find, some spare Hours to enjoy the Sweets of a sanctify'd Amour; by vertue of which, the one half of her Sins is pardon'd, when they are only committed with the Fathers of the Church, who exte­nuate the Crimes by their secret and par­ticular Morals. I shall conclude, desiring the Reader to believe me, as one that is pretty well Convinc'd of the Truth which I have deliver'd.