with tears in his eyes,
said he was more worthy of pity than of anger; that he must admit to me
all his shame and misery; that he was more than eighty years of age; that
he had neither children nor survivors; that he had been captain of the
guards; that though he might be so again, he should be incapable of the
function; that he unceasingly said this to himself, and that yet with all
this he could not console himself for having been so no longer during the
many years since he had lost his post; that he had never been able to
draw the dagger from his heart; that everything which recalled the memory
of the past made him beside himself, and that to hear that his wife was
going to take Madame de Poitiers to see a review of the body-guards, in
which he now counted for nothing, had turned his head, and had rendered
him wild to the extent I had seen; that he no longer dared show himself
before any one after this evidence of madness; that he was going to lock
himself up in his chamber, and that he threw himself at my feet in order
to conjure me to go and find his wife, and try to induce her to take pity
on and pardon a senseless old man, who was dying with grief and shame.
This admission, so sincere and so dolorous to make, penetrated me. I
sought only to console him and compose him. The reconciliation was not
difficult; we drew him from his chamber, not without trouble, and he
evinced during several days as much disinclination to show himself, as I
was told, for I went away in the evening, my occupations keeping me very
busy.

I have often reflected, apropos of this, upon the extreme misfortune of
allowing ourselves to be carried away by the intoxication of the world,
and into the formidable state of an ambitious man, whom neither riches
nor comfort, neither dignity acquired nor age, can satisfy, and who,
instead of tranquilly enjoying what he possesses, and appreciating the
happiness of it, exhausts himself in regrets, and in useless and
continual bitterness. But we die as we have lived, and 'tis rare it
happens otherwise. This madness respecting the captaincy of the guards
so cruelly dominated M. de Lauzun, that he often dressed himself in a
blue coat, with silver lace, which, without being exactly the uniform of
the captain of, the body-guards, resembled it closely, and would have
rendered him ridiculous if he had not accustomed people to it, made
himself feared, and risen above all ridicule.

With all his scheming and cri