religiously to me, and yet without passion. She cried only when she
could not help it. She feared her aunt to a degree that made me pity
her. I admired her wit first, and then her virtue, for trial of which I
pressed her as far as was necessary, until I was even ashamed of myself.
I waited till night to get her into my coach, and then carried her to my
aunt De Maignelai, who put her into a convent, where she died eight or
ten years after, in great reputation for piety. My aunt, to whom this
young creature confessed that the menaces of the pin-maker had terrified
her so much that she would have done whatsoever I wished, was so affected
with my behaviour that she went to tell it to the Bishop of Lisieux, who
told it to the King.

This second adventure was not of the same nature, but it made as great an
impression on the King's mind. It was a duel I had with Coutenau,
captain of a company of the King's Light-horse, brave, but wild, who,
riding post from Paris as I was going there, made the ostler take off my
saddle and put on his. Upon my telling him I had hired the horse, he
gave me a swinging box on the ear, which fetched blood. I instantly drew
my sword, and so did he. While making our first thrusts his foot
slipped, and his sword dropped out of his hand as he fell to the ground.
I retired a little and bade him pick it up, which he did, but it was by
the point, for he presented me the handle and begged a thousand pardons.
He told this little story afterwards to the King, with whom he had great
freedom. His Majesty was pleased with it, and remembered both time and
place, as you will see hereafter.

The good reception I found at Court gave my relatives some grounds to
hope that I might have the coadjutorship of Paris. At first they found a
great deal of difficulty in my uncle's narrowness of spirit, which is
always attended with fears and jealousies; but at length they prevailed
upon him, and would have then carried our point, if my friends had not
given it out, much against my judgment, that it was done by the consent
of the Archbishop of Paris, and if they had not suffered the Sorbonne,
the cures, and chapter to return him their thanks. This affair made too
much noise in the world for my interest. For Cardinal Mazarin, De
Noyers, and De Chavigni thwarted me, and told his Majesty that the
chapter should not be entrusted with the power of nominating their own
archbishop. And the King was heard to say that I was yet too