Established thus in the mind and heart of the King, the opportunity seemed ripe for profiting by precious time that could not last long.  Everybody smiled upon the project of M. du Maine and Madame de Maintenon.  They had rendered M. d’Orleans odious in the eyes of the King and of the whole country, by the most execrable calumnies.  How could he defend himself? shut up as the King was, how oppose them? how interfere with their dark designs?  M. du Maine wished not only to be made prince of the blood, but to be made guardian of the heir to the throne, so as to dwarf the power of the Regent as much as possible.  He flattered himself that the feeling he had excited against M. d’Orleans in the Court, in Paris, and in the provinces would be powerfully strengthened by dispositions so dishonourable; that he should find himself received as the guardian and protector of the life of the royal infant, to whom was attached the salvation of France, of which he would then become the idol; that the independent possession of the young King, and of his military and civil households, would strengthen with the public applause the power with which he would be invested in the state by this testament; that the Regent, reviled and stripped in this manner, not only would be in no condition to dispute anything, but would be unable to defend himself from any attempts the bastard might afterwards make against him.  M. du Maine wished in fact to take from M. d’Orleans everything, except the name of Regent, and to divide all the power between himself and his brother.  Such was his scheme, that the King by incredible art was induced to sanction and approve.

But the schemers had tough work before they obtained this success.  They found that the King would not consent to their wishes without much opposition.  They hit upon a devilish plan to overpower his resistance.  Hitherto, they had only been occupied in pleasing him, in amusing him, in anticipating his wishes, in praising him—­let me say the word—­ in adoring him.  They had redoubled their attention, since, by the Dauphine’s death, they had become his sole resource.

Not being able now to lead him as they wished, but determined to do so at all cost, they adopted another system, certain as they were that they could do so with impunity.  Both became serious, often times dejected, silent, furnishing nothing to the conversation, letting pass what the King forced himself to say, sometimes not even replying, if it was not a direct interrogation.  In this manner all the leisure hours of the King were rendered dull and empty; his amusements and diversions were made fatiguing and sad and a weight was cast upon him, which he was the more unable to bear because it was quite new to him, and he was utterly without means to remove it.  The few ladies who were admitted to the intimacy of the King knew not what to make of the change they saw in Madame de Maintenon.  They were duped at first by the plea of illness; but seeing at last that its duration passed all bounds, that it had no intermission, that her face announced no malady, that her daily life was in no way deranged, that the King became as serious and as sad as she, they sounded each other to find out the cause.  Fear, lest it should be something in which they, unknowingly, were concerned, troubled them; so that they became even worse company to the King than Madame de Maintenon.