aintenon grew angry, and all
he obtained for his zeal was her anger. She said that only the personal
enemies of Fagon could find fault with his opinion upon the King's
health, concerning which the capacity, the application, the experience of
the chief physician could not be deceived. The best of it is that
Marechal, who had formerly operated upon Fagon for stone, had been
appointed chief surgeon by him, and they had always lived on the best of
terms. Marechal, annoyed as he related to me, could do nothing more, and
began from that time to lament the death of his master. Fagon was in
fact the first physician in Europe, but for a long time his health had
not permitted him to maintain his experience; and the high point of
authority to which his capacity and his favour had carried him, had at
last spoiled him. He would not hear reason, or submit to reply, and
continued to treat the King as he had treated him in early years; and
killed him by his obstinacy.

The gout of which the King had had long attacks, induced Fagon to swaddle
him, so to say, every evening in a heap of feather pillows, which made
him sweat all night to such an extent that it was necessary in the
morning to rub him down and change his linen before the grand chamberlain
and the first gentleman of the chamber could enter. For many years he
had drunk nothing but Burgundy wine, half mixed with water, and so old
that it was used up instead of the best champagne which he had used all
his life. He would pleasantly say sometimes that foreign lords who were
anxious to taste the wine he used, were often mightily deceived. At no
time had he ever drunk pure wine, or made use in any way of spirits, or
even tea, coffee, or chocolate. Upon rising, instead of a little bread
and wine and water, he had taken for a long time two glasses of sage and
veronica; often between his meals, and always on going to bed, glasses of
water with a little orange-flower water in them, and always iced. Even
on the days when he had medicine he drank this, and always also at his
meals, between which he never ate anything except some cinnamon lozenges
that he put into his pocket at his dessert, with a good many cracknels
for the bitches he kept in his cabinet.

As during the last year of his life the King became more and more
costive, Fagon made him eat at the commencement of his repasts many iced
fruits, that is to say, mulberries, melons, and figs rotten from
ripeness; and at his