This was at Marly, and by chance I was there that day.  The King looked at me as at the others, but as though asking for a reply.  I took good care not to open my mouth, and lowered my eyes.  Cheverny, (a discreet man,) too, was not so prudent, but made a long and ill-timed rhapsody upon similar reports that had come to Copenhagen from Vienna while he was ambassador at the former place seventeen or eighteen years before.  The King allowed him to say on, but did not take the bait.  He appeared touched, but like a man who does not wish to seem so.  It could be seen that he did all he could to eat, and to show that he ate with appetite.  But it was also seen that the mouthfuls loitered on their way.  This trifle did not fail to augment the circumspection of the Court, above all of those who by their position had reason to be more attentive than the rest.  It was reported that an aide-decamp of Lord Stair, who was then English ambassador to our Court, and very much disliked for his insolent bearing and his troublesome ways, had caused these bets by what he had said in England respecting the health of the King.  Stair, when told this, was much grieved, and said ’twas a scoundrel he had dismissed.

As the King sensibly declined I noticed that although terror of him kept people as much away from M. d’Orleans as ever, I was approached even by the most considerable.  I had often amused myself at the expense of these prompt friends; I did so now, and diverted M. d’Orleans by warning him beforehand what he had to expect.

On Friday, the 9th of August, 1715, the King hunted the stag after dinner in his caleche, that he drove himself as usual.  ’Twas for the last time.  Upon his return he appeared much knocked up.  There was a grand concert in the evening in Madame de Maintenon’s apartment.

On Saturday, the 10th of August, he walked before dinner in his gardens at Marly; he returned to Versailles about six o’clock in the evening, and never again saw that strange work of his hands.  In the evening he worked with the Chancellor in Madame de Maintenon’s rooms, and appeared to everybody very ill.  On Sunday, the eleventh of August, he held the Council of State, walked, after dinner to Trianon, never more to go out again during life.

On the morrow, the 12th of August, he took medicine as usual, and lived as usual the following days.  It was known that he complained of sciatica in the leg and thigh.  He had never before had sciatica, or rheumatism, or a cold; and for a long time no touch of gout.  In the evening there was a little concert in Madame de Maintenon’s rooms.  This was the last time in his life that he walked alone.