She gave me a gracious look, but without uttering one word.
This was the first time I had anything to do with a woman of quality, and that air of patronage, whatever kindness might accompany it, always put me out of temper, for I thought it made love out of the question. However, as we were in the presence of the cardinal, I fancied that she might be right in treating me in that fashion.
The table was laid out near the cardinal’s bed, and the marchioness, who ate hardly anything, encouraged me in my good appetite.
“I have told you that the abbe is equal to me in that respect,” said S. C.
“I truly believe,” answered the marchioness, “that he does not remain far behind you; but,” added she with flattery, “you are more dainty in your tastes.”
“Would her ladyship be so good as to tell me in what I have appeared to her to be a mere glutton? For in all things I like only dainty and exquisite morsels.”
“Explain what you mean by saying in all things,” said the cardinal. Taking the liberty of laughing, I composed a few impromptu verses in which I named all I thought dainty and exquisite. The marchioness applauded, saying that she admired my courage.
“My courage, madam, is due to you, for I am as timid as a hare when I am not encouraged; you are the author of my impromptu.”
“I admire you. As for myself, were I encouraged by Apollo himself, I could not compose four lines without paper and ink.”
“Only give way boldly to your genius, madam, and you will produce poetry worthy of heaven.”