orner, are friends, who support you. Ah! who
is he that persecutes them? But justice triumphs--after rain,
sunshine--a long journey successful. There, do you see these little
bags? That is money which has been paid--to you, of course, I mean.
That is well. Do you see that arm?"--"Yes."--"That is an arm supporting
something: a woman veiled; I see her; it is you. All this is clear to
me. I hear, as it were, a voice speaking to me. You are no longer
attacked. I see it, because the clouds in that direction are passed off
(pointing to a clearer spot). But, stay--I see small lines which branch
out from the main spot. These are sons, daughters, nephews--that is
pretty well." She appeared overpowered with the effort she was making.
At length, she added, "That is all. You have had good luck
first--misfortune afterward. You have had a friend, who has exerted
himself with success to extricate you from it. You have had lawsuits--at
length fortune has been reconciled to you, and will change no more." She
drank another glass of wine. "Your health, Madame," said she to the
Marquise, and went through the same ceremonies with the cup. At length,
she broke out, "Neither fair nor foul. I see there, in the distance, a
serene sky; and then all these things that appear to ascend all these
things are applauses. Here is a grave man, who stretches out his arms.
Do you see?--look attentively."--"That is true," said Madame de
Pompadour, with surprise (there was, indeed, some appearance of the
kind). "He points to something square that is an open coffer. Fine
weather. But, look! there are clouds of azure and gold, which surround
you. Do you see that ship on the high sea? How favourable the wind is!
You are on board; you land in a beautiful country, of which you become
the Queen. Ah! what do I see? Look there--look at that hideous,
crooked, lame man, who is pursuing you--but he is going on a fool's
errand. I see a very great man, who supports you in his arms. Here,
look! he is a kind of giant. There is a great deal of gold and silver--a
few clouds here and there. But you have nothing to fear. The vessel will
be sometimes tossed about, but it will not be lost. Dixi." Madame said,
"When shall I die, and of what disease?"--"I never speak of that," said
she; "see here, rather but fate will not permit it. I will shew you how
fate confounds everything"--shewing her several confused lumps of the
coffee-dregs. "Well, never min