“This makes me fear, sire, that your majesty does not believe me sincere in my expression of the regret which I just took the liberty to utter to your majesty.”
“Mon Dieu, monsieur le duc, you certainly do not like madame du Barry.”
“I neither like nor hate her, sire; but I see with trouble that she receives at her house all my enemies.”
“Whose fault is that if it be so? Your own; you, who would never visit her; she would have received you with pleasure, and I have not concealed from you the satisfaction I should have experienced.”
These last words made the duke start, his eyes became animated. After a moment’s reflection he said to the king,
“Sire, is it indispensably necessary for the service of the state that I endeavor to attain the good-will of madame la comtesse du Barry?”
“No.”
“Well, then, sire, allow matters to remain as they are. It would cost me much to quarrel with my whole family, the more so as this sacrifice is not useful to you, and would in no wise alter my position with your majesty.”
However painful to the king such a determination might be, he did not allow the duke to perceive it; he dissembled the resentment he felt, and contented himself with saying,
“Duc de Choiseul, I do not pretend to impose chains on you; I have spoken to you as a friend rather than as a sovereign. Now I return to what was said at first, and accept with confidence the promise you make me not to torment a lady whom I love most sincerely.”