“I pity you sincerely, Madame,” said I, “while everybody else envies you.”  “Ah!” replied she, “my life is that of the Christian, a perpetual warfare.  This was not the case with the woman who enjoyed the favour of Louis XIV.  Madame de La Valliere suffered herself to be deceived by Madame de Montespan, but it was her own fault, or, rather, the effect of her extreme good nature.  She was entirely devoid of suspicion at first, because she could not believe her friend perfidious.  Madame de Montespan’s empire was shaken by Madame de Fontanges, and overthrown by Madame de Maintenon; but her haughtiness, her caprices, had already alienated the King.  He had not, however, such rivals as mine; it is true, their baseness is my security.  I have, in general, little to fear but casual infidelities, and the chance that they may not all be sufficiently transitory for my safety.  The King likes variety, but he is also bound by habit; he fears eclats, and detests manoeuvring women.  The little Marechale (de Mirepoix) one day said to me, ’It is your staircase that the King loves; he is accustomed to go up and down it.  But, if he found another woman to whom he could talk of hunting and business as he does to you, it would be just the same to him in three days.’”

I write without plan, order, or date, just as things come into my mind; and I shall now go to the Abbe de Bernis. whom I liked very much, because he was good-natured, and treated me kindly.  One day, just as Madame de Pompadour had finished dressing, M. de Noailles asked to speak to her in private.  I, accordingly, retired.  The Count looked full of important business.  I heard their conversation, as there was only the door between us.

“A circumstance has taken place,” said he, “which I think it my duty to communicate to the King; but I would not do so without first informing you of it, since it concerns one of your friends for whom I have the utmost regard and respect.  The Abbe de Bernis had a mind to shoot, this morning, and went, with two or three of his people, armed with guns, into the little park, where the Dauphin would not venture to shoot without asking the King’s permission.  The guards, surprised at hearing the report of guns, ran to the spot, and were greatly astonished at the sight of M. de Bernis.  They very respectfully asked to see his permission, when they found, to their astonishment, that he had none.  They begged of him to desist, telling him that, if they did their duty, they should arrest him; but they must, at all events, instantly acquaint me with the circumstance, as Ranger of the Park of Versailles.  They added, that the King must have heard the firing, and that they begged of him to retire.  The Abbe apologized, on the score of ignorance, and assured them that he had my permission.  ’The Comte de Noailles,’ said they, ’could only grant permission to shoot in the more remote parts, and in the great park.’” The Count made a great merit of his eagerness to give the earliest information