“Sire, she was my friend.”
“Well, and why, is not the comtesse du Barry? Who has put it into your head that she was opposed to you? You do not know her: she is an excellent woman: not only has she no dislike to you, but even desires nothing more than to be on good terms with you.”
“I must believe so since your majesty assures me of it; but, sire, the vast business with which I am overwhelmed—”
“Is not a sufficing plea; I do not allow that without a special motive, you should declare yourself against a person whom I honor with my protection. As you do not know her, and cannot have any thing to urge against her but prejudices founded on false rumors and scandalous fabrications, I engage you to sup with me at her apartments this evening, and I flatter myself that when I wish it you will not coin a parcel of reasons in opposition to my desire.”
“I know the obedience that is due to your majesty,” said de Choiseul, bowing low.
“Well, then, do first from duty what I flatter myself you will afterwards do from inclination. Duc de Choiseul, do not allow yourself to be influenced by advice that will prove injurious to you. What I ask cannot compromise you; but I should wish that with you all should be quiet, that no one should struggle against me, and that too with the air of contending against a person’s station. Do not reply, you know perfectly what I would say, and I know what belongs to myself.”
Here the conversation terminated. The duc de Choiseul did not become my friend any the more, but behaved towards me with all due consideration. He used grace and finesse in his proceedings, without mingling with it anything approaching to nonsense. He never allowed himself, whatever has been said, to dart out in my face any of those epigrams which public malignity has attributed to him. Perhaps like many other persons in the world, he has said many pleasantries of me which have been reported as said in my presence, but I repeat that he never uttered in my society a single word with which I had cause to be offended.
At this juncture I received a letter of which I had the folly to be proud, altho’ a little reflection should have made me think that my situation alone inspired it: it was from M. de Voltaire. This great genius was born a courtier. Whether he loved the protection of the great, or whether he thought it necessary to him, he was constantly aiming, from his youth upwards, at obtaining the countenance of persons belonging to a high rank, which made him servile and adulatory whilst they were in power, and full of grimace towards them when the wind favor ceased to swell their sails. It was in this way that mesdames de Chateauroux and de Pompadour had had his homage. He had sung their praises, and, of course, he could not forget me. You will recall to mind the letter which he wrote to the duc d’Aiguillon, on occasion of the piece of poetry entitled “La Cour du Roi Petaud.” He had denied having composed it, but this denial had not been addressed directly to me. Having learnt, no doubt, that my credit was increasing, he thought himself obliged to write to me, that he might rank me with his party. He might have availed himself of the intermediation of the duc d’Aiguillon, but preferred putting the duc de Richelieu into his confidence, and begged him to fulfil the delicate function of literary Mercury. I was alone when the maréchal came to me with an assumed air of mystery. His first care was to look around him without saying a word; and it was not until after he had shaken the curtains, and peeped into every corner of the apartment, that he approached me, who was somewhat surprised at his monkey tricks.
“I am the bearer,” he said, in a low voice, “of a secret and important communication, which I have been entreated to deliver after five or six hundred cautions at least: it is a defection from the enemy’s camp, and not the least in value.”
Fully occupied by my quarrel with the ladies of the court, I imagined that he had brought me a message of peace from some great lady; and, full of this idea, I asked him in haste the name of her whose friendship I had acquired.