he is so indolent
that she will not stir; she would like larks ready roasted to drop into
her mouth; she eats and walks slowly, but eats enormously. It is
impossible to be more idle than she is: she admits this herself; but she
does not attempt to correct it: she goes to bed early that she may lie
the longer. She never reads herself, but when she has the spleen she
makes her women read her to sleep. Her complexion is good, but less so
than her second daughter's. She walks a little on one side, which Madame
de Ratzenhausen calls walking by ear. She does not think that there is
her equal in the world for beauty, wit, and perfection of all kinds. I
always compare her to Narcissus, who died of self-admiration. She is so
vain as to think she has more sense than her husband, who has a great
deal; while her notions are not in the slightest degree elevated. She
lives much in the femme-de-chambre style; and, indeed, loves this society
better than that of persons of birth. The ladies are often a week
together without seeing her; for without being summoned they cannot
approach her. She does not know how to live as the wife of a prince
should, having been educated like the daughter of a citizen. A long time
had elapsed before she and her younger brother were legitimated by the
King; I do not know for what reason.

[This legitimation presented great difficulties during the life of
the Marquis de Montespan. M. Achille de Harlai, Procureur-General
du Parliament, helped to remove them by having the Chevalier de
Longueville, son of the Duke of that name and of the Marechale de la
Feste, recognized without naming his mother. This once done, the
children of the King and of Madame de Montespan were legitimated in
the same manner.]

When they arrived at Court their conversation was exactly like that of
the common people.

In my opinion my son's wife has no charms at all; her physiognomy does
not please me. I don't know whether my son loves her much, but I know
she does what she pleases with him. The populace and the femmes de
chambre are fond of her; but she is not liked elsewhere. She often goes
to the Salut at the Quinze Vingts; and her women are ordered to say that.
she is a saint, who suffers my son to be surrounded by mistresses without
complaining. This secures the pity of the populace and makes her pass
for one of the best of wives, while, in fact; she is, like her elder
brothe