ourt, and the best table, morning and evening, most honourably
frequented, and at Paris the same, after the King's death: All this did
not content him. He could only approach the King with outside
familiarity; he felt that the mind and the heart of that monarch were on
their guard against him, and in an estrangement that not all his art nor
all his application could ever overcome. This is what made him marry my
sister-in-law, hoping thus to re-establish himself in serious intercourse
with the King by means of the army that M. le Marechal de Lorge commanded
in Germany; but his project failed, as has been seen. This is what made
him bring about the marriage of the Duc de Lorge with the daughter of
Chamillart, in order to reinstate himself by means of that ministry;
but without success. This is what made him undertake the journey to Aix-
la-Chapelle, under the pretext of the waters, to obtain information which
might lead to private interviews with the King, respecting the peace;
but he was again unsuccessful. All his projects failed; in fact, he
unceasingly sorrowed, and believed himself in profound disgrace--even
saying so. He left nothing undone in order to pay his court, at bottom
with meanness, but externally with dignity; and he every year celebrated
a sort of anniversary of his disgrace, by extraordinary acts, of which
ill-humour and solitude were oftentimes absurdly the fruit. He himself
spoke of it, and used to say that he was not rational at the annual
return of this epoch, which was stronger than he. He thought he pleased
the King by this refinement of attention, without perceiving he was
laughed at.

By nature he was extraordinary in everything, and took pleasure in
affecting to be more so, even at home, and among his valets. He
counterfeited the deaf and the blind, the better to see and hear without
exciting suspicion, and diverted himself by laughing at fools, even the
most elevated, by holding with them a language which had no sense. His
manners were measured, reserved, gentle, even respectful; and from his
low and honeyed tongue, came piercing remarks, overwhelming by their
justice, their force, or their satire, composed of two or three words,
perhaps, and sometimes uttered with an air of naivete or of distraction,
as though he was not thinking of what he said. Thus he was feared,
without exception, by everybody, and with many acquaintances he had few
or no friends, although he merited them by his