At this time Foquet was the minister of finance, and gave a fete in honor of the king; indeed he entertained the king at his villa.  He was in some respects another Cardinal Wolsey, in his magnificence and recklessness of display.  Foquet loved a beautiful girl, who rejected him.  He discovered that the girl loved the king, and that the passion was reciprocated.  In his anger he charged it upon the girl, who ran with the secret to the king.  Louis was resolved on the downfall of his minister.  The fete took place upon a scale of almost unparalleled splendor.  Le Brun painted the scenes, La Fontaine wrote verses for it, and Moliere prepared a ballet for the occasion.  The king concealed his wrath at this display of wealth, and very much enjoyed Moliere’s amusements; and suggested a new comedy to the comedian, while talking with him at the minister’s.  Foquet soon fell.

Moliere was by this time so distinguished that he had troops of friends among the wise, learned, and great.  Among the warmest of them was the great Conde, who was always pleased with his society.  He told the comedian that he feared to trespass by sending for him on peculiar occasions, and therefore requested him to come to him whenever he had a leisure hour; and at such times he would dismiss all other matters, and give himself up to pleasant conversation.  The king invariably defended Moliere.  A duke once attacked him, and the king reproved the noble.  He still attended to his duties as valet de chambre to the king, and was constantly subjected to annoyance on account of his profession.  The other officers of the king’s chamber would not eat with him, such was their petty meanness and pride.  The king determined to give them a lesson, so one morning he addressed Moliere as follows: 

“I am told you have short commons here, Moliere, and that the officers of my chamber think you unworthy of sharing their meals.  You are probably hungry; I got up with a good appetite.  Sit down at that table where they have placed my refreshments.”  The king sat down with him, and the two went heartily at a fowl.  The doors were opened, and the most prominent members of the court entered.  “You see me,” said Louis, “employed in giving Moliere his breakfast, as my people do not find him good enough company for themselves.”

From this time Moliere had no trouble on the score of treatment from his fellow valets.

Everywhere except at court, before this, Moliere was treated with the greatest consideration on account of his brilliant genius.  He was intimate with Racine and with Boileau.  The story for a time was believed that Moliere married his natural daughter, but it has been proved a falsehood.  He became attached to the sister of Madeleine Bejaet, a very witty and graceful woman, and married her; but he soon found that she was too fond of admiration to make him happy.  She was coquettish, and without principle, and though Moliere bore with her long, they at length separated.  He said:  “There is but one sort of love, and those who are more easily satisfied, do not know what true love is.”