Louis XV, who knew something of men when he chose to study them., was not slow in detecting the talent of Lemoine, and in consequence gave him that station in which de Broglie had been installed. No sooner had Lemoine glanced over the affairs submitted to his control, than he became master of them, as much as though they had occupied the whole of his life, and in a short time he gave to his situation an importance which it had never before reached.
Unwilling, however, to incur hatred, he enveloped himself in profound mystery, so much so that nobody, with the exception of Messrs. d'Aiguillon and de Sartines, knew anything of his labors.
This pleased the king, who was averse to publicity.
The duc d'Aiguillon could not conceal his joy at being freed from de Broglie, his most troublesome colleague. It was a grand point gained for him, as he could now make sure of the post of secretary-at-war, the main object of his ambition. He wished to be placed in the duc de Choiseul's position, and to effect this he redoubled his attentions towards the king, who, though not really regarding him, at length treated him as the dearest of his subjects. There are inexplicable mysteries in weak characters;obstinacy alarms them, and they yield because they hate resistance.
The king was <ennuied> to death, and became daily more dull and heavy. I saw his gloom without knowing how to disperse it, but it did not make me particularly uncomfortable. Occupied with my dear duc de Brissac I almost forgot his majesty for him: the marechale de Mirepoix, who had more experience than I had in the affairs at Versailles, and who knew the king well, was alarmed at my negligence, and spoke to me of it.
"Do you not see," she said, one day, "what a crisis is at hand?""What crisis?" I asked.
"The king is dying of ennui."
"True."
"Does it not alarm you?" said the marechale.
"Why should it?"
"What makes him so? Think well when I tell you that your mortal enemy has seized Louis XV; your most redoubtable enemy, <ennui>!""Very well; but what would you have me do?""You must amuse him."
'That is easier said than done."
"You are right, but it is compulsory. Believe me, kings are not moulded like other men: early disgusted with all things, they only exist in a variety of pleasures; what pleases them this evening will displease them tomorrow; they wish to be happy in a different way. Louis XV is more kingly in this respect than any other.
You must devise amusements for him."
"Alas," I replied, "how? Shall I give him a new tragedy of la Harpe's,--he will yawn; an opera of Marmontel,--he will go to sleep. Heavens! how unfortunate I am!""Really, my dear," replied the marechale, "I cannot advise you;but I can quote a powerful example. In such a case madame de Pompadour would have admitted a rival near the throne.""Madame de Pompadour was very amiable, my dear," I replied, "and I would have done so once or twice, but the part of Mother Gourdan does not suit me; I prefer that of her young ladies."At these words the marechale laughed, whilst I made a long grave face. At this instant comte Jean entered, and exclaimed,"Really, ladies, you present a singular contrast. May I ask you, sister, what causes this sorrow? What ails you?""Oh, brother!" was my response, "the king is dying of ennui.""That is no marvel," said my brother-in-law.
"And to rouse him," I added, "it is necessary, the marechale says, that I must take a pretty girl by the hand, and present her to the king with these words: 'Sire, having found that you grow tired of me, I present this lady to you, that you may amuse yourself with her."'That would be very fine," replied comte Jean; "it would show him that you had profited by my advice." Then, whispering in my ear, "You know, sister, I am capable of the greatest sacrifices for the king.""What are you saying, Comte Jean?" asked the marechale, who had heard some words.
"I said to my sister," answered he, coolly, "that she ought to be executed to please the king.""And you, too, brother," I cried.
"Yes, sister," said he, with a theatrical tone, "I see the dire necessity, and submit to it unrepiningly. Let us yield to fate, or rather, let us so act as to make it favorable to us. The king requires some amusement, and let us find him a little wench.
We must take heed not to present any fine lady: no, no; by all the devils--! Excuse me, marechale, 'tis a habit I have.""It is nature, you mean," replied the marechale: "the nightingale is born to sing, and you, comte Jean, were born to swear; is it not true?""<Morbleu>, madam, you are right."
After this conversation the marechale went out, and Comte Jean departed to arrange his plans for the king's amusement.
However, the ennui of Louis XV was somewhat dissipated by thetidings of the various incidents which occurred at the grand entry of the dauphin and dauphiness into Paris. We learnt that the duc de Brissac, as governor of Paris, on receiving the dauphiness, said,"Madam, you see about you two hundred thousand lovers." He was right; the princess looked like an angel. I had taken a mortal aversion to her. Alas! circumstances have too fully avenged me:
this unfortunate queen loses popularity daily; her perfidious friends have sacrificed her to their interests. I pity her.