times has he unburdened himself before me on the
subject.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Final Rupture.--Terrible Scene.--Madame de Maintenon in the Brocaded
Chair.

To-day, when time and reflection, and, perhaps, that fund of contempt
which is so useful, have finally revealed to me the insurmountable
necessities of life, I can look with a certain amount of composure at
the injury which the King did me. I had at first resolved to conclude,
with the chapter which you have just read, my narrative of the more or
less important things which have passed or been unfolded before my eyes.
For long I did not feel myself strong enough to approach a narrative
which might open up all my old wounds and make my blood boil again; but I
finished by considering that our monarch's reign will be necessarily the
subject of a multitude of commentaries, journals, and memoirs. All these
confidential writings will speak of me to the generations to be; some
will paint me as one paints an object whom one loves; others, as the
object one detests. The latter, to render me more odious, will probably
revile my character, and, perhaps, represent me as a cowardly and
despairing mistress, who has descended even to supplications!! It is my
part, therefore, to retrace with a firm and vigorous hand this important
epoch of my life, where my destiny, at once kind and cruel, reduced me to
treat the greatest of all Kings both as my equal and as an inconstant
friend, as a treacherous enemy, and as my inferior or subject. He had,
at first, the intention of putting me to death,--of that I am
persuaded,--but soon his natural gentleness got the better of his pride.
He grasped the wounds in my heart from the deplorable commotion of my
face. If his former friend was guilty in her speech, he was far more
guilty by his actions. Like an equitable judge he pardoned neither of
us; he did not forgive himself and he dared not condemn me.

Since this sad time of desertion and sorrow, into which the new state of
things had brought me, MM. de Mortemart, de Nevers, and de Vivonne had
been glad to avoid me. They found my humour altered, and I admit that a
woman who sulks, scolds, or complains is not very attractive company.

One day the poor Marechal de Vivonne came to see me; he opened my
shutters to call my attention to the beauty of the sky, and, my health
seeming to him a trifle poor, he suggested to me to embark at once in his
carriage and to go and dine at Clagny.