The late Monsieur was very much disturbed at his wife’s coquetry; but he dared not behave ill to her, because she was protected by the King.

The Queen-mother of England had not brought up her children well:  she at first left them in the society of femmes de chambre, who gratified all their caprices; and having afterwards married them at a very early age, they followed the bad example of their mother.  Both of them met with unhappy deaths; the one was poisoned, and the other died in child-birth.

Monsieur was himself the cause of Madame’s intrigue with the Comte de Guiche.  He was one of the favourites of the late Monsieur, and was said to have been handsome once.  Monsieur earnestly requested Madame to shew some favour to the Comte de Guiche, and to permit him to wait upon her at all times.  The Count, who was brutal to every one else, but full of vanity, took great pains to be agreeable to Madame, and to make her love him.  In fact, he succeeded, being seconded by his aunt, Madame de Chaumont, who was the gouvernante of Madame’s children.  One day Madame went to this lady’s chamber, under the pretence of seeing her children, but in fact to meet De Guiche, with whom she had an assignation.  She had a valet de chambre named Launois, whom I have since seen in the service of Monsieur; he had orders to stand sentinel on the staircase, to give notice in case Monsieur should approach.  This Launois suddenly ran into the room, saying, “Monsieur is coming downstairs.”

The lovers were terrified to death.  The Count could not escape by the antechamber on account of Monsieur’s people who were there.  Launois said, “I know a way, which I will put into practice immediately; hide yourself,” he said to the Count, “behind the door.”  He then ran his head against Monsieur’s nose as he was entering, and struck him so violently that he began to bleed.  At the same moment he cried out, “I beg your pardon, Monsieur, I did not think you were so near, and I ran to open you the door.”

Madame and Madame de Chaumont ran in great alarm to Monsieur, and covered his face with their handkerchiefs, so that the Comte de Guiche had time to get out of the room, and escape by the staircase.  Monsieur saw some one run away, but he thought it was Launois, who was escaping through fear.  He never learnt the truth.

What convinces me of the late Madame’s innocence is that, after having received the last sacraments, she begged pardon of Monsieur for all disquiets she had occasioned, and said that she hoped to reach heaven because she had committed no crime against her husband.

I think M. de Monmouth was much worse than the Comte de Guiche; because, although a bastard, he was the son of Madame’s own brother; and this incest doubled the crime.  Madame de Thiange, sister of Madame de Montespan, conducted the intrigue between the Duke of Monmouth and Madame.