“Monsieur de Bonzy,” said she to the prelate, “as it is you who here play the part of interpreter and cavalier of honour as it is you, moreover, who have to drag me away from my native country, I have to inform you that it is my intention to leave it as slowly as possible, and to contemplate it at my leisure before quitting it forever.”

And, indeed, the Princess desired to make a stay more or less long in every town en route.  If, on the way, she noticed a convent of any importance, she at once asked to be taken thither, and, in default of other pastime or pretext, she requested them to say complines with full choral accompaniment.

If she saw some castle or other, she inquired the name of its owner, and, though she hardly knew the inmates, was wont to invite herself to dinner and supper.

The Bishop of Beziers grew disconsolate.  He wrote letters to the Court, which he sent by special courier, and I said to the King, “Pray, Sire, let her do as she likes; she will surely have time enough to look at her husband later on.”

Near Saint Fargeau, when the Princess heard that this estate was her sister’s, Mademoiselle sent a gentleman with her compliments, to ask if she would give her shelter for twenty-four hours.  Instead of twenty-four hours’ stay, she proceeded to take up her abode there; and, provided with a gun and dogs, she wandered all over the fields, always accompanied by the worthy Bishop, at whose utter exhaustion she was highly amused.

At length she left her native land, and joined her husband, who seemed somewhat sulky at all this delay.

“I cannot love you just yet,” quoth she, weeping; “my heart is still another’s, and it is impossible to break off such attachments without much time and much pain.  Pray treat me with gentleness, for if you are severe, I shall not do you any harm, but I shall go back to the Luxembourg to my mother.”

CHAPTER XXV.

Random Recollections.—­Madame de Montespan Withdraws from Politics.—­The Queen’s Dowry.—­First Campaign in Flanders.—­The Queen Meets the King.—­Some One Else Sees Him First.—­The Queen’s Anger at La Valliere.

In compiling these Memoirs, I have never pretended to keep a strictly regular diary, where events are set down chronologically and in their proper order.  I write as I recollect; some of my recollections are chronicled sooner, and others later.  Thus it happens that the King’s first conquests are only now mentioned in the present chapter, although they occurred in the year 1667, at the beginning of my credit and my favour.

I was naturally inclined for politics, and should have liked the hazard of the game; but I suppose that the King considered me more frivolous and giddy than I really was, for, despite the strong friendship with which he has honoured me, he has never been gracious enough to initiate me into the secrets of the Cabinet and the State.