This strange discourse sounded far and wide-much beyond Marly.

Let me here relate another anecdote of the King—­a trifle I was witness of.  It was on the 7th of May, of this year, and at Marly.  The King walking round the gardens, showing them to Bergheyck, and talking with him upon the approaching campaign in Flanders, stopped before one of the pavilions.  It was that occupied by Desmarets, who had recently succeeded Chamillart in the direction of the finances, and who was at work within with Samuel Bernard, the famous banker, the richest man in Europe, and whose money dealings were the largest.  The King observed to Desmarets that he was very glad to see him with M. Bernard; then immediately said to this latter: 

“You are just the man never to have seen Marly—­come and see it now; I will give you up afterwards to Desmarets.”

Bernard followed, and while the walk lasted the King spoke only to Bergheyck and to Bernard, leading them everywhere, and showing them everything with the grace he so well knew how to employ when he desired to overwhelm.  I admired, and I was not the only one, this species of prostitution of the King, so niggard of his words, to a man of Bernard’s degree.  I was not long in learning the cause of it, and I admired to see how low the greatest kings sometimes find themselves reduced.

Our finances just then were exhausted.  Desmarets no longer knew of what wood to make a crutch.  He had been to Paris knocking at every door.  But the most exact engagements had been so often broken that he found nothing but excuses and closed doors.  Bernard, like the rest, would advance nothing.  Much was due to him.  In vain Desmarets represented to him the pressing necessity for money, and the enormous gains he had made out of the King.  Bernard remained unshakeable.  The King and the minister were cruelly embarrassed.  Desmarets said to the King that, after all was said and done, only Samuel Bernard could draw them out of the mess, because it was not doubtful that he had plenty of money everywhere; that the only thing needed was to vanquish his determination and the obstinacy—­even insolence—­he had shown; that he was a man crazy with vanity, and capable of opening his purse if the King deigned to flatter him.

It was agreed, therefore, that Desmarets should invite Bernard to dinner —­should walk with him—­and that the King should come and disturb them as I have related.  Bernard was the dupe of this scheme; he returned from his walk with the King enchanted to such an extent that he said he would prefer ruining himself rather than leave in embarrassment a Prince who had just treated him so graciously, and whose eulogiums he uttered with enthusiasm!  Desmarets profited by this trick immediately, and drew much more from it than he had proposed to himself..