Bassompierre accordingly left Fontainebleau for Paris, where he met with another love-adventure, which delayed his departure for Lorraine for several days, and which we shall allow him to relate himself, since—to borrow his own words—“though it was not of great consequence, it was, nevertheless, extravagant”:
“For the past four or five months, every time I passed over the Petit-Pont—for in those days the Pont-Neuf was not built—a handsome woman, a sempstress at the sign of the Two Angels, made me deep courtesies and followed me with her eyes so far as she could. And, when I remarked her behaviour, I looked at her also and saluted her with greater care. It happened that, when I arrived in Paris from Fontainebleau, and was crossing the Petit-Pont, so soon as she saw me approaching, she placed herself at the door of her shop, and said to me as I passed: ‘Monsieur, I am your very humble servant.’ I returned her greeting and, turning round from time to time, I perceived that she followed me with her eyes so long as she was able. I had travelled post from Fontainebleau, and had brought one of my lackeys with me, intending to send him back to Fontainebleau the same evening with letters for Antragues and for another lady there. I made him alight and give his horse to the postilion to lead, and sent him to tell the young woman that, perceiving the care that she had to see me and salute me, if she desired a more private view of me, I was willing to meet her in whatever place she might choose to appoint. She told the lackey that this was the best news that one could have brought her and that she would go wherever I wished.
“I accepted this proposal and asked my lackey if he knew of some place to take her, which he did, saying that he knew a woman named Noiret, to whose house he would conduct her.... And in the evening I went there, and found a very beautiful woman, twenty years of age, who had her head dressed for the night, wearing naught but a very fine shift, and a short petticoat of green flannel and a peignoir over her. She pleased me mightily, and I can say that never had I seen a prettier woman....
“I asked her if I could not see her again, and said that I should not leave Paris until Sunday, this being Thursday night. She answered that she desired it more ardently than I did, but that it would not be possible, unless I stayed the whole of Sunday, in which case she would see me on Sunday night.... I was easy to persuade, and told her that I would remain all Sunday and meet her at night in the same place. Then she rejoined: ‘Monsieur, I know well that I am in a house of ill-fame, to which, however, I came willingly, in order to see you, with whom I am so deeply in love.... Well, once is not habit, and though, urged by passion, I have come once to this house, I should be a public wanton if I were to return a second time. I have never surrendered myself to any man but my husband and yourself—may I die in misery if I speak not the truth!—and I have no intention of surrendering myself to another. But what would one not do for a man whom one loves, and for a Bassompierre? That is why I came to this house, but it was to be with a man who has rendered it honourable by his presence. If you wish to see me again, it must be at the house of one of my aunts, who lives in the Rue du Bourg-l’Abbé, next to the Rue aux Ours, the third door on the side of the Rue Saint-Martin. I will await you there from ten o’clock until midnight, and later still, and will leave the door open. At the entrance there is a little passage, through which you must go quickly, for the door of my aunt’s room opens on to it, and you will find a stair, which will bring you to the second floor.’
“I agreed to this proposal, and, having despatched the rest of my suite on their journey towards Lorraine, I came at ten o’clock to the door which she had indicated, and saw a great light, not only on the second floor, but on the third and first as well; but the door was closed. I knocked to announce my arrival, but I heard a man’s voice asking who I was. I went back to the Rue aux Ours, and having returned for the second time, finding the door open, I entered and mounted to the second floor, where I found that the light which I had seen proceeded from the straw of the beds which they were burning, and two naked bodies lying upon the table in the room. Thereupon, I withdrew, greatly amazed, and, in going out, I met some ‘crows,’[49] who asked me what I sought, and I, to make them give way, drew my sword, and so passed out and returned to my lodging, somewhat disturbed by the unexpected sight which I had beheld. I drank three or four glasses of neat wine, which is a German remedy against the plague, and then went to bed, as I intended to leave for Lorraine the following morning, which I did. And, although I afterwards sought as diligently as possible to learn what had become of this woman, I was never able to discover anything. I even went to the Two Angels, where she lodged, to inquire who she was, but the tenants of the house told me nothing, save that they knew that she was the former tenant. I have decided to relate this adventure, because, although she was a person of humble condition, she was so pretty that I have regretted her, and would have given much to see her again.”[50]
At Nancy, Bassompierre, as the representative of the King of France and a personal friend of Charles III of Lorraine, was received with great honour and very sumptuously lodged and entertained. At the marriage ceremony and the fêtes which followed it he appeared in great magnificence, and this, in conjunction with his handsome face and ingratiating manners, without doubt made a deep impression upon the ladies of the Court. However, owing presumably to the official position which he occupied, he appears to have refrained from making any fresh conquests—at any rate, he does not record any; and, after having obtained the consent of the Duchess of Mantua and the Duke of Lorraine to stand godmother and godfather to Henri IV’s children, he set out for Paris.
On his arrival, he found himself in sore distress of mind. The baptism of the Dauphin and Madame Élisabeth was fast approaching, and having imprudently worn all the new suits which he possessed at the marriage fêtes at Nancy, he had none in which to appear at it, or, at least, none which he considered worthy of so great an event. To appear in one which he had donned on some previous occasion was not to be thought of for a moment; his reputation as the most elegant and most recklessly extravagant gentleman of the Court would infallibly be lost. As well ask a modern professional beauty to wear the same toilette twice in a season! To add to his distress, he had spent so much money on his mission to Lorraine, for the post of Ambassador Extraordinary, in those days, though very gratifying to the vanity, was ruinously expensive to the pocket, that he had only a few hundred crowns in his purse, and the acolytes of Fashion were so overwhelmed with orders for the ceremony that they were actually impertinent enough to insist upon money down. Finally, they were reported to be so busy that, even if the financial difficulty were overcome, it was very improbable that he could get a costume of sufficient magnificence completed in time. Was ever so splendid a gallant in so sad a case?
However, Fortune once more came to his aid.
“Just as my sister (Madame de Saint-Luc), Madame de Verderonne,[51] and la Patière,[52] who had come to greet me on my arrival, had informed me that all the tailors and embroiderers were so busy that it was impossible to get a suit made, in came my own tailor, Tallot by name, and my embroiderer with him, to tell me that, on the rumours of the magnificence of the baptism, a merchant of Antwerp had brought a horse-load of pearls that are sold by weight, and that with these they could make me a suit which would surpass anything at the baptism; and my embroiderer offered to undertake it, if I paid him six hundred crowns for his work alone. The ladies and I fixed upon the suit, which required not less than fifty pounds’ weight of pearls; and I decided that it should be of violet cloth-of-gold, with palm-branches interlacing. In short, before the tailor and embroiderer withdrew, I, who had only seven hundred crowns in my purse, had ordered them to undertake a suit which was to cost me fourteen thousand. At the same time, I sent for the merchant, who brought me samples of his pearls, and with whom I settled the price by weight. He demanded four thousand crowns earnest money, but for this I put him off till the morrow. M. d’Épernon[53] passed before my lodging, and, knowing that I had arrived, came to see me and told me that he had some good company coming to sup at his house and play afterwards, and asked me to be of the party. I took my seven hundred crowns and with them won five thousand. The next day the merchant came, and I paid him his four thousand crowns earnest money. I also gave something to the embroiderer, and went on to win at play, not only enough to pay for the suit and a diamond sword, which cost five thousand crowns, but had five or six thousand left wherewith to amuse myself.”
Bassompierre accompanied the King to Villers-Cotterets to meet the Duke of Lorraine and the Duchess of Mantua. On the way the King turned aside to pay a visit to his former mistress, Charlotte de Essars, Comtesse de Romorantin, who was staying at the Abbey of Sainte-Perrinne, the superior of which was her aunt. Time seems to have dealt leniently with the fair Charlotte, who appeared, according to Bassompierre, more beautiful than ever.