“I am insulted, hooted: they say that I have the misfortune to be no longer in the good graces of your majesty.”
“Ah, tell them they lie in their throats,” replied the king, kissing me on the forehead; “you are the woman of my heart, and she whom I would fain load with honors.”
“Your majesty speaks to me,” I answered, “with great condescension [my sister-in-law left the room that she might not spoil the explanation], but yet you are the cause of the insolences which I am subjected to from the vile crew.”
“What is the matter with you to-day? In truth you are a perfect little devil.”
“I wish I were, that I might punish evil tongues, since there is no king of France to avenge me.”
“You are severe, madame,” replied Louis XV, turning his imposing and handsome face towards me, and to which he vainly endeavored to give an air of anger. I saw my success, and added,
“Yes, sire, it is insupportable for me to think that I am supposed not to possess your friendship, and that I only play the part of a temporary friend. It makes me wretched: you must not be angry if I complain of you to your royal self.”
“Well, well, you madcap, what must I do? Whom must I banish?”
“Oh, sire, no one: with your august support I fear no person; nothing but appearances.”
“You are an excellent creature; in your place madame de Pompadour would have imprisoned half France.”