The King loved my son as well as his own, but he cared little for the girls.  He was very fond of Monsieur, and he had reason to be so; never did a child pay a more implicit obedience to its parents than did Monsieur to the King; it was a real veneration; and the Dauphin, too, had for him a veneration, affection and submission such as never son had for a father.  The King was inconsolable for his death.  He never had much regard for the Duke of Burgundy; the old sorceress (Maintenon) had slandered him to the King, and made the latter believe that he was of an ambitious temper, and was impatient at the King’s living so long.  She did this in order that if the Prince should one day open his eyes, and perceive the manner in which his wife had been educated, his complaints might have no effect with the King, which really took place.  Louis XIV. at last thought everything that the Dauphine of Burgundy did was quite charming; old Maintenon made him believe that her only aim was to divert him.  This old woman was to him both the law and the prophets; all that she approved was good, and what she condemned was bad, no matter how estimable it really was.  The most innocent actions of the first Dauphine were represented as crimes, and all the impertinences of the second were admired.

A person who had been for many years in immediate attendance upon the King, who had been engaged with him every evening at Maintenon’s, and who must consequently have heard everything that was said, is one of my very good friends, and he has told me that although while the old lady was living he dare not say a word, yet, she being dead, he was at liberty to tell me that the King had always professed a real friendship for me.  This person has often heard with his own ears Maintenon teasing the King, and speaking ill of me for the purpose of rendering me hateful in his eyes, but the King always took my part.  It was in reference to this, I have no doubt, that the King said to me on his death-bed: 

“They have done all they could to make me hate you, Madame, but they have not succeeded.”  He added that he had always known me too well to believe their calumnies.  While he spoke thus, the old woman stood by with so guilty an air that I could not doubt they had proceeded from her.

Monsieur often took a pleasure in diminishing or depriving me of the King’s favour, and the King was not sorry for some little occasions to blame Monsieur.  He told me once that he had embroiled me with Monsieur by policy.

I was alarmed, and said immediately, “Perhaps your Majesty may do the same thing again.”

The King laughed, and said, “No, if I had intended to do so I should not have told you of it; and, to say the truth, I had some scruples about it, and have resolved never to do so again.”

Upon the death of one of his children, the King asked of his old medical attendant, M. Gueneau:  “Pray, how does it happen that my illegitimate children are healthy and live, while all the Queen’s children are so delicate and always die?” “Sire,” replied Gueneau, “it is because the Queen has only the rinsings of the glass.”