ever before so many useless talents, so much genius of no avail, or an imagination so calculated to be a bugbear to itself and a plague to others.  Abjectly and vilely servile even to lackeys, he scrupled not to use the lowest and paltriest means to gain his ends.  Unnatural son, cruel father, terrible husband, detestable master, pernicious neighbour; without friendship, without friends—­incapable of having any jealous, suspicious, ever restless, full of slyness and artifices to discover and to scrutinise all, (in which he was unceasingly occupied, aided by an extreme vivacity and a surprising penetration,) choleric and headstrong to excess even for trifles, difficult of access, never in accord with himself, and keeping all around him in a tremble; to conclude, impetuosity and avarice were his masters, which monopolised him always.  With all this he was a man difficult to be proof against when he put in play the pleasing qualities he possessed.

Madame la Princesse, his wife, was his continual victim.  She was disgustingly ugly, virtuous, and foolish, a little humpbacked, and stunk like a skunk, even from a distance.  All these things did not hinder M. le Prince from being jealous of her even to fury up to the very last.  The piety, the indefatigable attention of Madame la Princesse, her sweetness, her novice-like submission, could not guarantee her from frequent injuries, or from kicks, and blows with the fist, which were not rare.  She was not mistress even of the most trifling things; she did not dare to propose or ask anything.  He made her set out from one place to another the moment the fancy took him.  Often when seated in their coach he made her descend, or return from the end of the street, then recommence the journey after dinner, or the next day.  This see-sawing lasted once fifteen days running, before a trip to Fontainebleau.  At other times he sent for her from church, made her quit high mass, and sometimes sent for her the moment she was going to receive the sacrament; she was obliged to return at once and put off her communion to another occasion.  It was not that he wanted her, but it was merely to gratify his whim that he thus troubled her.

He was always of, uncertain habits, and had four dinners ready for him every day; one at Paris, one at Ecouen, one at Chantilly, and one where the Court was.  But the expense of this arrangement was not great; he dined on soup, and the half of a fowl roasted upon a crust of bread; the other half serving for the next day.  He rarely invited anybody to dinner, but when he did, no man could be more polite or attentive to his guests.