the King of the adventure her curiosity had led her into, at which he laughed, and said he wished the Police had arrested her.  He added a very sensible remark.  “In order to judge,” said he, “of the truth or falsehood of such predictions, one ought to collect fifty of them.  It would be found that they are almost always made up of the same phrases, which are sometimes inapplicable, and some times hit the mark.  But the first are rarely-mentioned, while the others are always insisted on.”

I have heard, and, indeed, it is certainly true, that M. de Bridge lived on terms of intimacy with Madame, when she was Madame d’Aioles.  He used to ride on horseback with her, and, as he is so handsome a man, that he has retained the name of the handsome man, it was natural enough that he should be thought the lover of a very handsome woman.  I have heard something more than this.  I was told that the King said to M. de Bridge, “Confess, now, that you were her lover.  She has acknowledged it to me, and I exact from you this proof of sincerity.”  M. de.  Bridge replied, that Madame de Pompadour was at liberty to say what she pleased for her own amusement, or for any other reason; but that he, for his part, could not assert a falsehood; that he had been, her friend; that she was a charming companion, and had great talents; that he delighted in her society; but that his intercourse with her had never gone beyond the bounds of friendship.  He added, that her husband was present in all their parties, that he watched her with a jealous eye, and that he would not have suffered him to be so much with her if he had conceived the least suspicion of the kind.  The King persisted, and told him he was wrong to endeavour to conceal a fact which was unquestionable.  It was rumoured, also, that the Abbe de Bernis had been a favoured lover of hers.  The said Abbe was rather a coxcomb; he had a handsome face, and wrote poetry.  Madame de Pompadour was the theme of his gallant verses.  He sometimes received the compliments of his friends upon his success with a smile which left some room for conjecture, although he denied the thing in words.  It was, for some time, reported at Court that she was in love with the Prince de Beauvau:  he is a man distinguished for his gallantries, his air of rank and fashion, and his high play; he is brother to the little Marechale:  for all these reasons, Madame is very civil to him, but there is nothing marked in her behaviour.  She knows, besides, that he is in love with a very agreeable woman.

Now that I am on the subject of lovers, I cannot avoid speaking of M. de Choiseul.  Madame likes him better than any of those I have just mentioned, but he is not her lover.  A lady, whom I know perfectly well, but whom I do not chose to denounce to Madame, invented a story about them, which was utterly false.  She said, as I have good reason to believe, that one day, hearing the King coming, I ran to Madame’s closet door; that I coughed in a particular manner;