Produced by David Widger
To go back, now, to the remaining events of the year 1719.
The Marquise de Charlus, sister of Mezieres, and mother of the Marquis deLevi, who has since become a duke and a peer, died rich and old. She wasthe exact picture of an "old clothes" woman and was thus subject to manyinsults from those who did not know her, which she by no means relished.To relieve a little the seriousness of these memoirs, I will here relatean amusing adventure of which she was heroine.
She was very avaricious, and a great gambler. She would have passed thenight up to her knees in water in order to play. Heavy gambling atlansquenet was carried on at Paris in the evening, at Madame la Princessede Conti's. Madame de Charlus supped there one Friday, between thegames, much company being present. She was no better clad than at othertimes, and wore a head-dress, in vogue at that day, called commode, notfastened, but put on or taken off like a wig or a night-cap. It wasfashionable, then, to wear these headdresses very high.
Madame de Charlus was near the Archbishop of Rheims, Le Tellier. Shetook a boiled egg, that she cracked, and in reaching for some salt, sether head dress on fire, at a candle near, without perceiving it. TheArchbishop, who saw her all in flames, seized the head-dress and flung itupon the ground. Madame de Charlus, in her surprise, and indignant atseeing her self thus uncovered, without knowing why, threw her egg in theArchbishop's face, and made him a fine mess.
Nothing but laughter was heard; and all the company were in convulsionsof mirth at the grey, dirty, and hoary head of Madame de Charlus, and theArchbishop's omelette; above all, at the fury and abuse of Madame deCharlus, who thought she had been affronted, and who was a long timebefore she would understand the cause, irritated at finding herself thustreated before everybody. The head-dress was burnt, Madame la Princessede Conti gave her another, but before it was on her head everybody hadtime to contemplate her charms, and she to grow in fury. Her, husbanddied three months after her. M. de Levi expected to find treasures;there had been such; but they had taken wing and flown away.
About this time appeared some verses under the title of Philippiques,which were distributed with extraordinary promptitude and abundance. LaGrange, formerly page of Madame la Princesse de Conti, was the author,and did not deny it. All that hell could vomit forth, true and false,was expressed in the most beautiful verses, most poetic in style, andwith all the art and talent imaginable. M. le Duc d'Orleans knew it, andwished to see the poem, but he could not succeed in getting it, for noone dared to show it to him.
He spoke of it several times to me, and at last demanded with suchearnestness that I should bring it to him, that I could not refuse. Ibrought it to him accordingly, but read it to him I declared I neverwould. He took it, therefore, and read it in a low tone, standing in thewindow of his little cabinet, where we were. He judged it in readingmuch as it was, for he stopped from time to time to speak to me, andwithout appearing much moved. But all on a sudden I saw him changecountenance, and turn towards me, tears in his eyes, and himself ready todrop.
"Ah," said he, "this is too much, this horrible poem beats mecompletely."
He was at the part whe