Marquise de Caylus

The fear of displeasing him turned her cold with fright.

That poor princess, says Madame de Caylus in her souvenirs, has such a dread of the king and such great natural timidity that she neither dared speak to him nor run the risk of a tête-à-tête with him.

I have heard Madame de Maintenon say that the king having sent for the queen one day, she asked her to go with her so that she might not appear alone in his presence, but that she only conducted her to the door of the room and there took the liberty of pushing her so as to make her enter, and that she observed such a great trembling in her whole person that her very hand shook with fright.

How with a wife so worthy of respect, so irreproachable as Marie Therese, could a sovereign who like Louis XIV had the notion of justice and injustice, of respect for himself and his people, have so far forgotten himself as to recognize publicly and solemnly the children of a double adultery? This is a real problem.

Could we believe it? The man who urged Louis XIV most strongly to make scandalously fine alliances for his bastards was the great Condé.

The marriage of his nephew, Prince de Conti, to a daughter of Mademoiselle de la Vallière, and that of his grandson to a daughter of Madame de Montespan, overwhelmed him with joy.

The king, says Madame de Caylus, would never have thought of raising his bastards so high, but for the anxiety shown by the two princes of Condé to link themselves with him by this sort of marriages.

Condé hoped to efface in this way the impression the past might have left on the king's mind.

The fear of displeasing him turned her cold with fright.

That poor princess, says Madame de Caylus in her souvenirs, had such a dread of the king and such great natural timidity that she neither dared speak to him nor run the risk of a tête-à-tête with him.

I have heard Madame de Mantignon say that the king having sent for the queen one day, she asked her to go with her so that she might not appear alone in his presence, but that she only conducted her to the door of the room and there took the liberty of pushing her so as to make her enter, and that she observed such a great trembling in her whole person that her very hand shook with fright.

How with a wife so worthy of respect, so irreproachable as Marie-Therese, could a sovereign who like Louis XIV had the notion of justice and injustice, of respect for himself and his people, have so far forgotten himself as to recognize publicly and solemnly the children of a double adultery? This is a real problem.

Could we believe it? The man who urged Louis XIV most strongly to make scandalously fine alliances for his bastards was the great Condé.

The marriage of his nephew, Prince de Conti, to a daughter of Mademoiselle de La Vallière, and that of his grandson to a daughter of Madame de Montespan, overwhelmed him with joy.

The king, says Madame de Caylus, would never have thought of raising his bastards so high, but for the anxiety shown by the two princes of Condé to link themselves with him by this sort of marriages.

Condé hoped to efface in this way the impression the past might have left on the king's mind.