The Princesse de Deux Ponts has recently furnished another instance of the misfortune which usually attends the secret marriages of ladies of high birth.  She married her equerry, was very ill-treated by him, and led a very miserable life; but she deserved all she met with and I foresaw it.  She was with me at the Opera once, and insisted at all events that her equerry should sit behind her.  “For God’s sake,” I said to her, “be quiet, and give yourself no trouble about this Gerstorf; you do not know the manners of this country; when folks perceive you are so anxious about that man, they will think you are in love with him.”  I did not know then how near this was to the truth.  She replied, “Do people, then, in this country take no care of their servants?”—­“Oh, yes,” I said, “they request some of their friends to carry them to the Opera, but they do not go with them.”

M. Pentenrieder is a perfect gentleman, extremely well-bred, totally divested of the vile Austrian manners, and speaks good German instead of the jargon of Austria.  While he was staying here, the Fair of Saint-Germain commenced; a giant, who came to Paris for the purpose of exhibiting himself, having accidentally met M. Pentenrieder, said as soon as he saw him, “It’s all over with me:  I shall not go into the fair; for who will give money to see me while this man shows himself for nothing?” and he really went away.  M. Pentenrieder pleased everybody.  Count Zinzendorf, who succeeded him, did not resemble him at all, but was a perfect Austrian in his manners and his language.

I have heard that it was from the excitement of insulted honour that Ravaillac was induced to murder Henri IV.; for that the King had seduced his sister, and had abandoned her during her pregnancy:  the brother then swore he would be avenged on the King.  Some persons even accuse the Duc d’Epernon, who was seated in the coach in such a manner that he might have warded off the blow, but he is said to have drawn back and given the assassin an opportunity to strike.

When I first came to France I found in it such an assemblage of talent as occurs but in few ages.  There was Lulli in music; Beauchamp in ballets; Corneille and Racine in tragedy; Moliere in comedy; La Chamelle and La Beauval, actresses; and Baron, Lafleur, Toriliere, and Guerin, actors.  Each of these persons was excellent in his way.  La Ducloa and La Raisin were also very good; the charms of the latter had even penetrated the thick heart of our Dauphin, who loved her very tenderly:  her husband was excellent in comic parts.  There was also a very good harlequin, and as good a scaramouch.  Among the best performers at the Opera were Clediere, Pomereuil, Godenarche, Dumenil, La Rochechouard, Maury, La Saint Christophe, La Brigogne, La Beaucreux.  All that we see and hear now do not equal them.

That which pleased me most in Beauvernois’ life is the answer he made to the Prince of Vaudemont.  When he was fleeing, and had arrived at Brussels, he gave himself out for a Prince of Lorraine.  M. de Vaudemont sent for him, and, upon seeing him, said,—­“I know all the Princes of Lorraine, but I do not know you.”—­“I assure you, sir,” replied Beauvernois, “that I am as much a Prince of Lorraine as you are.”