“You have charmed by your wit and the liveliness of your character the busiest years of my life and reign.  That pleasant memory will never leave me, and separated though we be, as good sense and propriety of every kind demands, we shall still belong to each other in thought.  Athenais will always be to me the mother of my, dear children.  I have been mindful up to this day, to increase at different moments the amount of your fortune:  I believe it to be considerable, and wish, nevertheless, to add to it even more.  If the pension that Vivonne had just suggested to you appear insufficient, two lines from your pen will notify me that I must increase it.

“Your children being proclaimed Princes of France, the Court will be their customary residence, but you will see them frequently, and can count on my commands.  Here they are coming,—­not to say good-bye to you, but, as of old, to embrace you on the eve of a journey.

“If you are prudent, you will write first to the Marquis de Montespan, not to annul and revoke the judicial and legal separation which exists, but to inform him of your return to reasonable ideas, and of your resolve to be reconciled with the public.”

With these words the King ceased speaking.  I looked at him with a fixed gaze; a long sigh escaped from my heaving breast, and I had with him, as nearly as I can remember, the following conversation: 

“I admire the sang-froid with which a prince who believes himself, and is believed by the whole universe, to be magnanimous, gives the word of dismissal to the tender friend of his youth,—­to that friend who, by a misfortune which is too well known, knew how to leave all and love him alone.

“From the day when the friendship which had united us cooled and was dissipated, you have resumed with regard to me that distance which your rank authorises you, and on my side, I have submitted to see in you only my King.  This revolution has taken effect without any shock, or noise, or scandal.  It has continued for two years already; why should it not continue in the same manner until the moment when my last two children no longer require my eyes, and presence, and care?  What sudden cause, what urgent motive, can determine you to exclude me?  Does not, then, the humiliation which I have suffered for two years any longer satisfy your aversion?”

“What!” cried the prince, in consternation, “is your resolution no longer the same?  Do you go back upon what you promised to your brother?”

“I do not change my resolution,” I resumed at once; “the places which you inhabit have neither charm nor attraction for my heart, which has always detested treachery and falseness.  I consent to withdraw myself from your person, but on condition that the odious intriguer who has supplanted me shall follow the unhappy benefactress who once opened to her the doors of this palace.  I took her from a state of misery, and she plunges daggers into my breast.”