“No,” she replied, “I don’t like hunting.”

“Will you work?”

“No, I don’t like work.”

“Will you take a walk, or play at some game?”

“No, I like neither the one nor the other.”

“What will you do, then?” they asked.

“What can I do?” she said; “I hate innocent pleasures.”

My son understands music well, as all the musicians agree.  He has composed two or three operas, which are pretty.  La Fare, his Captain of the guards, wrote the words.  He had them played in his palace, but never would permit them to be represented on the public stage.

When he had nothing to do he painted for one of the Duchess’s cabinets all the pastoral romance of “Daphnis and Chloe.”

[The designs for the romance of “Daphnis and Chloe” were composed by the Regent, with the advice, and probably the assistance, of Claude Audran, a distinguished painter, whom Lebrun often employed to help him with his large pictures.  He painted a part of the battles of Alexander.  These designs were engraved by Benoit Audran; they embellish what is called “the Regent’s edition” of the Pastoral of Longus, which was printed under his inspection in the year 1718.  It is somewhat surprising that Madame should speak so disdainfully of so eminent an artist as Benoit Audran.]

With the exception of the first, he invented and painted all the subjects.  They have been engraved by one Audran.  The Duchess thought them so pretty that she had them worked in a larger size in tapestry; and these, I think, are better than the engravings.

My son’s learning has not the least tinge of pedantry.  He knows a quantity of facetious stories, which he learnt in Italy and in Spain.  He does not tell them badly, but I like him better in his more serious moods, because they are more natural to him.  When he talks upon learned topics it is easy to see that they are rather troublesome to him than otherwise.  I often blamed him for this; but he used to reply that it was not his fault, that he was ready enough to learn anything, but that when he once knew it he no longer took pleasure in it.

He is eloquent enough, and when he chooses he can talk with dignity.  He has a Jesuit for his confessor, but he does not suffer himself to be ruled by him.  He pretends that his daughter has no influence over him.  He was delighted when he obtained the command of the Spanish army, and was pleased with everything in that country; this procured him the hatred of the Princesse des Ursins, who feared that my son would diminish her authority and gain more of the confidence of the Spaniards than she possessed.

He learned to cook during his stay with the army in Spain.

I cannot tell where he learned so much patience; I am sure it was neither from Monsieur nor from me.

When he acted from himself I always found him reasonable; but he too often confided in rogues, who had not half his sense, and then all went wrong.