Her lovers were always men of rank and station or of high talents, but she was caught once by the dazzle of a famous dancer named Pecour, who pleased her exceedingly, and who became the fortunate rival of the Duc de Choiseul, afterward a marshal of France.  It happened that Choiseul was more remarkable for his valor than for his probity and solid virtues, and could not inspire in Ninon’s heart anything but the sterile sentiments of esteem and respect.  He was certainly worthy of these, but he was too cold in his amorous desires to please Ninon.

“He is a very worthy gentleman,” said she, “but he never gives me a chance to love him.”

The frequent visits of Pecour excited the jealousy of the warrior, but he did not dare complain, not knowing whether things had reached a climax and fearing that if he should mention the matter he might help them along instead of stopping them.  One day, however, he attempted to goad his unworthy rival into some admission, and received a response that was enough to settle his doubts.

Pecour was in the habit of wearing a costume much resembling that of the military dandies of the period.  Choiseul meeting him in this equivocal garb, proceeded to be funny at his expense by putting to him all sorts of ironical and embarrassing questions.  But Pecour felt all the vanity of a successful rival and was good natured.  Then the Duke began to make sneering remarks which roused the dancer’s anger.

“Pray, what flag are you fighting under, and what body do you command?” asked Monseigneur with a sarcastic smile.

Quick as a flash came the answer which gave the Duke an inkling into the situation.

“Je commande un corps ou vous servez depuis longtemps,” replied Pecour.

CHAPTER XI

Ninon’s Lovers—­Continued

A counter attraction has been referred to in speaking of the Hotel Rambouillet, where a fashionable court was established for the purpose of drawing away from Ninon the elite who flocked to her standard.  Mademoiselle de Scudery gives a fine description of this little court at Rambouillet in her romance, entitled “Cyrus.”  There was not and could not be any rivalry between the court in the Rue des Tournelles and that at Rambouillet, for the reason that Ninon’s coterie consisted of men exclusively, while that of Rambouillet was thronged with women.  But this, quite naturally, occasioned much envy and jealousy among the ladies who devised all sorts of entertainments to attract masculine society.  One of their performances was the famous “Julia Garland,” so named in honor of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, who was known by the name of “Julie d’Angennes.”  Each one selected a favorite flower, wrote a sonnet in its praise, and when all were ready, they stood around Mademoiselle de Rambouillet in a circle and alternately recited the poem, the reward for the best one being the favor of some fair