Saint-Paul (1672), killed so unfortunately by the side of the
Great Conde at the passage of the Rhine.

That blow was the last of Madame de Longueville's earthly troubles--it
overwhelmed her. Madame de Sevigne has depicted in a few touching
sentences the scene which was witnessed when the fatal tidings reached
the wretched mother: "Mademoiselle des Vertus returned two days since to
Port-Royal, where she is constantly staying. They sent M. Arnauld to
fetch her, that she might break the terrible news. Mademoiselle des
Vertus had only to show herself; her hurried return was the certain
signal that something sad had happened. In fact, as soon as she
appeared, she was greeted with: 'Ah! mademoiselle, how is my brother?'
Her thoughts dare not venture further question. 'Madame, his wound is
going on favourably.' 'There has been a battle! and my son?' No answer.
'Ah! mademoiselle, my son, my dear boy, answer me, is he dead?' 'Madame,
I cannot find words to reply to you.' 'Ah! my dear son! did he die upon
the spot? Was not one single moment given him? Ah! _Mon Dieu!_ what a
sacrifice!' And thereupon she sank down in bed, and of all that the most
poignant anguish could exhibit in convulsions and swooning, and in dead
silence and stifled groans, by bitter tears and appeals to Heaven, and
by tender and pitiful plaints, she went through them all. She sees
certain persons, she takes broths, because it is the will of God; but
she gets no rest; and her health, already very bad, is visibly shaken.
For myself, I wish she may die, not believing that she can survive such
a loss." Some few days afterwards Madame de Sevigne writes: "There
exists in the world one man not less touched by this blow: it has
occurred to me that if they had both met each other in the first burst
of grief and no one else had been present, all other feelings would
have given place to tears and moans re-echoed from the depths of both
their hearts."

With this young Duke de Longueville disappeared the last witness to
bygone errors. The last link was broken, and, from that day, Madame de
Longueville belonged no more to this world. She died on the 15th April,
1679, at the Carmelites, where her remains were interred; her heart
being taken to Port-Royal. A year afterwards, in the same convent of
Carmelites, the Bishop of Autun, Roquette, whom Moliere had in view when
drawing the character of Tartuffe, pronounced her funeral oration.
Madame de Sevigne, who was present at