ought to avoid wounding his memory,—­which by such a long reign, so many brilliant years, so many grand reverses so heroically sustained, and escaped from in so unhoped-for a manner—­had left the entire world in veneration of his person:  in fine, that he might reckon all the discontented, all the neutral even, would join in chorus with the Ancient Court, and cry murder; that the Duc du Maine, Madame de Ventadour, the Marechal de Villeroy would not hesitate to look upon the destruction of Marly as a crime against the King,—­a crime they would not fail to make the best of for their own purposes during all the regency, and even after it was at an end.  I clearly saw that M. le Duc d’Orleans had not in the least reflected upon all this.  He agreed that I was right:  promised that Marly should not be touched, that it should continue to be kept up, and thanked me for preserving him from this fault.

When I was well assured of him, “Admit,” said I, “that the King, in the other world, would be much astonished if he could know that the Duc de Noailles had made you order the destruction of Marly, and that it was who hindered it.”

“Oh! as to that,” he quickly replied, “it is true he could not believe it.”  In effect Marly was preserved and kept up; and it is the Cardinal Fleury, with his collegiate proctor’s avarice, who has stripped it of its river, which was its most superb charm.

I hastened to relate this good resolve to the Marechal de Villars.  The Duc de Noailles, who, for his own private reasons, had wished the destruction of Marly, was furious when he saw his proposal fail.  To indemnify himself in some degree for his vexation, he made the Regent agree, in the utmost secrecy, for fear of another failure, that all the furniture, linen, etc., should be sold.  He persuaded M. le Duc d’Orleans that all these things would be spoiled and lost by the time the King was old enough to use them; that in selling them a large sum would be gained to relieve expenses; and that in future years the King could furnish Marly as he pleased.  There was an immense quantity of things sold, but owing to favour and pillage they brought very little; and to replace them afterwards, millions were spent.  I did not know of this sale, at which anybody bought who wished, and at very low prices, until it had commenced; therefore I was unable to hinder this very damaging parsimoniousness.

The Regent just about this time was bestowing his favours right and left with a very prodigal hand; I thought, therefore, I was fully entitled to ask him for one, which, during the previous reign, had been so rare, so useful, and accordingly so difficult to obtain; I mean the right of entering the King’s room—­the ’grandes entrees’—­as it was called, and I attained it at once.