that he limped audaciously, and it was true.  He would speak of personages the most distinguished, whose ante-chambers even he had scarcely seen, as though he spoke of his equals or of his particular friends.  He related what he had heard, and was not ashamed to say before people who at least had common sense, “Poor Mons. Turenne said to me,” M. de Turenne never having probably heard of his existence.  With Monsieur in full he honoured nobody.  It was Mons. de Beauvilliers, Mons. de Chevreuse, and so on; except with those whose names he clipped off short, as he frequently would even with Princes of the blood.  I have heard him say many times, “the Princesse de Conti,” in speaking of the daughter of the King; and “the Prince de Conti,” in speaking of Monsieur her brother-in-law!  As for the chief nobles of the Court, it was rare for him to give them the Monsieur or the Mons. It was Marechal d’Humieres, and so on with the others.  Fatuity and insolence were united in him, and by dint of mounting a hundred staircases a day, and bowing and scraping everywhere, he had gained the ear of I know not how many people.  His wife was a tall creature, as impertinent as he, who wore the breeches, and before whom he dared not breathe.  Her effrontery blushed at nothing, and after many gallantries she had linked herself on to M. de Duras, whom she governed, and of whom she was publicly and absolutely the mistress, living at his expense.  Children, friends, servants, all were at her mercy; even Madame de Duras herself when she came, which was but seldom, from the country.

Such were the people whom the King placed near M. le Duc de Bourgogne.

The Duc de Gesvres, a malicious old man, a cruel husband and unnatural father, sadly annoyed Marechal de Villeroy towards the end of this year, having previously treated me very scurvily for some advice I gave him respecting the ceremonies to be observed at the reception by the King of M. de Lorraine as Duc de Bar.  M. de Gesvres and M. de Villeroy had both had fathers who made large fortunes and who became secretaries of state.  One morning M. de Gesvres was waiting for the King, with a number of other courtiers, when M. de Villeroy arrived, with all that noise and those airs he had long assumed, and which his favour and his appointments rendered more superb.  I know not whether this annoyed De Gesvres, more than usual, but as soon as the other had placed himself, he said, “Monsieur le Marechal, it must be admitted that you and I are very lucky.”  The Marechal, surprised at a remark which seemed to be suggested by nothing, assented with a modest air, and, shaking his head and his wig, began to talk to some one else.  But M. de Gesvres had not commenced without a purpose.  He went on, addressed M. de Villeroy point-blank, admiring their mutual good fortune, but when he came to speak of the father of each, “Let us go no further,” said he, “for what did our fathers