tone of his, which
rendered everything he said diverting. "I have written some verses,
however," said he, "and I will repeat them to you; they are upon
a certain M. Rodot, an Intendant of the Marine, who was very
fond of abusing medicine and medical men. I made these verses
to revenge AEsculapius and Hippocrates.

Antoine se medicina
En decriant ta medicine,
Et de ses propres mains mina
Les fondemens de sa machine:
Tres rarement il opina
Sans humeur bizarre ou chagrine,
Et, l'esprit qui le domina
Etait affiche sur sa mine.

"What do you say to them?" said the Doctor. My companion thought
them very pretty, and the Doctor gave me them in his handwriting,
begging me, at the same time, not to give any copies.

Madame de Pompadour joked my companion about her _bel-esprit_,
but sometimes she reposed confidence in her. Knowing that she
was often writing, she said to her, "You are writing a novel,
which will appear some day or other; or, perhaps, the age of Louis
XV.: I beg you to treat me well." I have no reason to complain
of her. It signifies very little to me that she can talk more
learnedly than I can about prose and verse.

She never told me her real name; but one day I was malicious
enough to say to her, "Some one was maintaining, yesterday, that
the family of Madame de Mar---- was of more importance than many
of good extraction. They say it is the first in Cadiz. She had very
honourable alliances, and yet she has thought it no degradation
to be governess to Madame de Pompadour's daughter. One day you
will see her sons or her nephews Farmers General, and her
granddaughters married to Dukes." I had remarked that Madame de
Pompadour for some days had taken chocolate, _a triple vanille
et ambre_, at her breakfast; and that she ate truffles and celery
soup: finding her in a very heated state, lone day remonstrated
with her about her diet, to which she paid no attention. I then
thought it right to speak to her friend, the Duchesse de Brancas.
"I had remarked the same thing," said she, "and I will speak
to her about it before you." After she was dressed, Madame de
Brancas, accordingly, told her she was uneasy about her health.
"I have just been talking to her about it," said the Duchess,
pointing to me, "and she is of my opinion." Madame de Pompadour
seemed a little displeased; at last, she burst into tears. I
immediately went out, shut the door, and returned to my place
to listen. "My dear f