This sovereignty, coveted by Madame des Ursins, exceedingly offended Madame de Maintenon and wounded her pride.  She felt, with jealousy, that the grand airs Madame des Ursins gave herself were solely the effect of the protection she had accorded her.  She could not bear to be outstripped in importance by the woman she herself had elevated.  The King, too, was much vexed with Madame des Ursins; vexed also to see peace delayed; and to be obliged to speak with authority and menace to the King of Spain, in order to compel him to give up the idea of this precious sovereignty.  The King of Spain did not yield until he was threatened with abandonment by France.  It may be imagined what was the rage of Madame des Ursins upon missing her mark after having, before the eyes of all Europe, fired at it with so much perseverance; nay, with such unmeasured obstinacy.  From this time there was no longer the same concert between Madame de Maintenon and Madame des Ursins that had formerly existed.  But the latter had reached such a point in Spain, that she thought this was of no consequence.

It has been seen with what art Madame des Ursins had unceasingly isolated the King of Spain; in what manner she had shut him up with the Queen, and rendered him inaccessible, not only to his Court but to his grand officers, his ministers, even his valets, so that he was served by only three or four attendants, all French, and entirely under her thumb.  At the death of the Queen this solitude continued.  Under the pretext that his grief demanded privacy, she persuaded the King to leave his palace and to instal himself in a quiet retreat, the Palace of Medina-Celi, near the Buen-Retiro, at the other end of the city.  She preferred this because it was infinitely smaller than the Royal Palace, and because few people, in consequence, could approach the King.  She herself took the Queen’s place; and in order to have a sort of pretext for being near the King, in the same solitude, she caused herself to be named governess of his children.  But in order to be always there, and so that nobody should know when they were together, she had a large wooden corridor made from the cabinet of the King to the apartment of his children, in which she lodged.  By this means they could pass from one to the other without being perceived, and without traversing the long suite of rooms, filled with courtiers, that were between the two apartments.  In this manner it was never known whether the King was alone or with Madame des Ursins; or which of the two was in the apartments of the other.  When they were together or how long is equally unknown.  This corridor, roofed and glazed, was proceeded with in so much haste, that the work went on, in spite of the King’s devotion, on fete days and Sundays.  The whole Court, which perfectly well knew for what use this corridor was intended, was much displeased.  Those who directed the work were the same.  Of this good proof was given.  One day, the Comptroller