_
than basting those in his kitchen." Catherine Fouquet, Countess de
Vertus, his daughter, Madame de Montbazon's mother, was beautiful,
witty, somewhat giddy, and very gallant. Impatient of all hindrance, she
had authorised one of her lovers to assassinate her husband; but it was
the husband who assassinated the lover. The tragical termination of this
rencontre does not seem to have cast a gloom over the life of the
Countess de Vertus, for at seventy she began to learn to dance, and when
seventy-three, married a young man over head and ears in debt.

In 1628, Marie d'Avangour quitted her convent to espouse Hercule de
Rohan, Duke de Montbazon, who was the father, by his first marriage, of
Madame de Chevreuse and of the Prince de Guemene. She was sixteen, and
he sixty-one. Thorough fool as he was, the Duke did not conceal from
himself, it is said, the conviction that such an union was fraught with
some danger to him; but we may venture to affirm that he could not have
foreseen all its dangers. Full of respect for the virtues of Marie de'
Medicis, he recommended her example to his wife; then, with every
confidence in the future, he conducted her to Court.

In beauty the daughter was worthy of the mother, but in vices she left
her far behind. Tallemant says she was one of the loveliest women
imaginable. Her mind was not her most brilliant side, and the little
that she had was turned to intrigue and perfidy. "Her mind," says the
indulgent Madame de Motteville, "was not so fine as her person; her
brilliancy was limited to her eyes, which commanded love. She claimed
universal admiration." In regard to her character, all are unanimous. De
Retz, who knew her well, speaks of her in these terms: "Madame de
Montbazon was a very great beauty. Modesty was wanting in her air. Her
jargon might, during a dull hour, have supplied the defects of her mind.
She showed but little faith in gallantry, none in business. She loved
her own pleasure alone, and above her pleasure her interest. I never saw
a person who, in vice, preserved so little respect for virtue."
Supremely vain and passionately fond of money, it was by the aid of her
beauty that she sought influence and fortune. She, therefore, took
infinite care of it, as of her idol, as of her resources, her treasure.
She kept it in repair, heightened it by all sorts of artifices, and
preserved it almost uninjured till her death. Madame de Motteville
asserts that, during the latter part of