Ninon recounted this affair with great gusto to Madame Scarron. Françoise still kept up great intimacy with her friend, Madame Arnoul, a person for whom Mademoiselle de L’Enclos had an instinctive dislike. She was a great fortune-teller with the cards, and an arch-crafty intriguer, and by a series of manœuvres she wormed herself into the notice of Madame de Montespan, whose husband subsequently played a sorry part in the scandal occurring at St Cloud; since he permitted himself to be bribed to continue to countenance his wife’s connexion with the king.
Madame Arnoul however, was laying her scheme, and played her cards so well for the amusement of Madame de Montespan, that she managed to acquaint herself with many secrets of the royal favourite; and in return, in order to do evil to gain what she considered good, she whispered to Madame de Montespan the truth about de Montespan’s box on the ear. The result was an order for Ninon’s conveyance to the convent-home for the Filles Répenties; and the guard who arrested her allowed her just twenty minutes for her preparations for leaving the rue des Tournelles.
It was a terrible and humiliating blow for Ninon. All the consolations and representations of Madame Arnoul, who was permitted an interview with her, could not reconcile her. Yet they brought some comfort; for Ninon could see that the woman’s machinations promised to bring about the fall of the favourite, and in her place to set no less, no greater, a person than Françoise, the Widow Scarron.
Rome was not, of course, built in a day; and Madame Arnoul, not forgetful of her own interests, hastened slowly. Indications were not wanting that the influence of Madame de Montespan was waning.
The favourite’s temper was not a mild one, and sometimes she gave vent to it in rather startling fashion. Madame Arnoul’s first care was to lead Madame Scarron into more devout ways than hitherto she had followed, and the habitual calm, composed bearing of Françoise was not out of the picture of this new rôle. Madame Arnoul, in her card-telling visits to Madame de Montespan, was favoured by her with many confidences, and among them the Maîtresse en Titre mentioned that she was seeking a governess for her children, a lady who was to be pious and amiable, and of course accomplished, and intellectually gifted, and rich in patience. Except for the piety, Madame Scarron possessed all these qualifications, and for the piety, it would come in time; and meanwhile it could be put on easily enough—it was a virtue not difficult to assume. And Madame Arnoul, consulting her cards, gravely informed Madame de Montespan that if she repaired to the church of St Sulpice, on a certain day, at a certain hour, she would see among the communicants of the early Mass, the very person she was seeking for her children’s education. Then followed a description of the comely, if no longer very youthful, Françoise d’Aubigné, who was instructed to put in the necessary appearance at St Sulpice. So the arrangement was brought about and concluded very satisfactorily, and Madame Scarron found herself in charge of the little Duc du Maine, and Louis XIV.’s other children, of whom Athénais de Montespan was the mother, and more and more as time passed, winning the admiration and liking of the king, who found great charm in her conversation, which certainly went to show that his faulty education and rearing had not totally stunted him mentally, for the wife of Scarron, by nature and long association, was a woman of no common attainments.
CHAPTER XIX
“In Durance Vile”—Molière’s Mot—Le Malade Imaginaire—“Rogues and Vagabonds”—The passing of Molière—The narrowing Circle—Fontenelle—Lulli—Racine—The little Marquis—A tardy Pardon—The charming Widow Scarron—A Journey to the Vosges, and the Haunted Chamber.
“One story is good till another is told.” The tangle of petty vanities, lust of gold and mutual jealousies disgracing the Court of Versailles at this time, might well have dragged Ninon de L’Enclos into the hated durance of Les Filles Répenties, at the instigation of the woman who at least was not the one to cast a stone. One fact alone was indisputable: that there she was, and as certainly more than one powerful friend at Court was sparing no endeavour to obtain her release. Among these was Molière, the man of the generous, kindly heart, who was not likely to forget the many bounteous acts and the warm sympathy Ninon had extended to him throughout his career.
And to him it mainly was that she owed her release from the convent. A representation by Molière and his company had been given at Versailles of his new play, Le Malade Imaginaire, and the king, on its conclusion, had sent for Molière in some anxiety; for it had been evident to him that the actor was himself no imaginary invalid, but suffering and exhausted with the exertion of his arduous rôle of Argan. More than once of late his understudy, Croisy, had been required to take his place; and the king expressed his sympathy and his regret that Molière should have over-fatigued himself to afford him gratification, for that his health was too precious to be trifled with.