Poor courtiers! It was labour in vain.
The king was in too much fear of knowing himself to understand
that study: he knew the penetration and severity of his own
judgment, and on no account would he exercise it at his own expense.
The duc de Duras, although a man of little wit, was yet gay and
always lively. He amused me; I liked his buoyant disposition,
and forgave him although he had ranged himself with the protesting
peers. In fact, I could not be angry with him. The folly of
opposition had only seized on him because it was epidemic. The
dear duke had found himself with wolves, and had begun to howl
with them. I am sure that he was astonished at himself when he
remembered the signature which he had given, and the love he had
testified for the old parliament, for which, in fact, he cared no
more than Jean de Vert. God knows how he compensated for this
little folly at the chateau. It was by redoubling his assiduities
to the king, and by incessant attentions to me. In general, those
who wished to thrive at court only sought how to make their
courage remembered; M. de Duras was only employed in making
his forgotten.
The prince de Terigny, the comte d'Escars, the duc de Fleury,
were not the least amusing. They kept up a lively strain of
conversation, and the king laughed outrageously. But the vilest
of the party was the duc de Fronsac.
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