in upon me. He insulted me in outrageous fashion.
He tried to drag me out of bed and throw me out of the window. Hearing
me scream, my servants rushed in and rescued me, in a fainting state,
from his clutches. And you it is who have brought upon me such
scandalous insults.

"Ready to appear before my God, who has already summoned me by a spectre,
I have a boon to ask of you, Madame la Marquise. I beg it of you, as I
clasp these strengthless, trembling hands. Do not deny me this favour,
or I will cherish implacable resentment, and implore my Master and my
Judge to visit you with grievous punishment.

"Leave the King," she continued, after drying her tears. "Leave so
sensual a being; the slave of his passions, the ravisher of others' good.
The pomp and grandeur which surround you and intoxicate you would seem
but a little thing did you but look at them as now I do, upon my bed of
death.

"The Queen hates me; she is right. She despises me, and justly, too. I
shall elude her hatred and disdain, which weigh thus heavily upon my
heart. Perhaps she may deign to pardon me when my lawyer shall have
delivered to her a document, signed by myself, containing my confession
and excuses."

As she uttered these words, Madame de Montausier began to vomit blood,
and I had to summon her attendants. With a last movement of the head she
bade me farewell, and I heard that she called for her husband.

Next day she was dead. Her waiting-maid came to tell me that the
Duchess, conscious to the last, had made her husband promise to resign
his appointment as governor to the Dauphin, and withdraw to his estates,
where he was to do penance. M. de Meaux, a friend of the family, read
the prayers for the dying, to which the Duchess made response, and three
minutes before the final death-throe, she consented to let him preach a
funeral sermon in eulogy of herself and her husband.

When printed and published, this discourse was thought to be a fine piece
of eloquence.

Over certain things the Bishop passed lightly, while exaggerating others.
Some things, again, were entirely of his own invention; and if from the
depths of her tomb the Duchess could have heard all that M. de Meaux said
about her, she never would have borne me such malice, nor would her grief
at leaving life and fortune have troubled her so keenly.

The King thought this funeral oration excellently well composed. Of one
expression and of one whole passage, however, he