M. de Clerambault gave me pleasure by telling me that I am in your thoughts constantly.  I am worthy of it on account of the affection I maintain for you.  We shall certainly deserve the encomiums of posterity by the duration of our lives, and by that of your friendship.  I believe I shall live as long as you, although I am sometimes weary of always doing the same things, and I envy the Swiss who casts himself into the river for that reason.  My friends often reprehend me for such a sentiment, and assure me that life is worth living as long as one lives in peace and tranquillity with a healthy mind.  However, the forces of the body lead to other thoughts, and those forces are preferred to strength of mind, but everything is useless when a change is impossible.  It is equally as worth while to drive away sad reflections as to indulge in useless ones.

Madame Sandwich has given me a thousand pleasures in making me so happy as to please her.  I did not dream, in my declining years to be agreeable to a woman of her age.  She has more spirit than all the women of France, and more true merit.  She is on the point of leaving us, which is regretted by every one who knows her, by myself, particularly.  Had you been here we should have prepared a banquet worthy of old times.  Love me always.

Madame de Coulanges accepted the commission to present your kind compliments to M. le Comte de Grammont, through Madame de Grammont.  He is so young that I believe him fickle enough in time to dislike the infirm, and that he will love them as soon as they return to good health.

Every one who returns from England speaks of the beauty of Madame la Duchesse de Mazarin, as they allude to the beauty of Mademoiselle de Bellefond, whose sun is rising.  You have attached me to Madame de Mazarin, and I hear nothing but the good that is said of her.

Adieu, my friend, why is it not “Good day?” We must not die without again seeing each other.

VII

Ninon de l’Enclos to Saint-Evremond

After the Death of La Duchesse de Mazarin

What a loss for you, my friend!  If it were not for the fact that we, ourselves, will be considered a loss, we could not find consolation.  I sympathize with you with all my heart.  You have just lost an amiable companion who has been your mainstay in a foreign land.  What can be done to make good such a misfortune?  Those who live long are subject to see their friends die, after that, your philosophy, your mind, will serve to sustain you.

I feel this death as much as if I had been acquainted with the Duchess.  She thought of me in her last moments, and her goodness affected me more than I can express; what she was to you drew me to her.  There is no longer a remedy, and there is none for whatever may happen our poor bodies, so preserve yours.  Your friends love to see you so well and so wise, for I hold those to be wise who know how to be happy.