Chapter LXVII: Letter LVI: PARIS, Wednesday, April 29, 1676

I must begin by telling you that Condé was taken by storm on Saturday night. The news at first made my heart beat; I feared the victory had cost us dear, but it does not prove so; we have lost some men, but none of any note; this may be reckoned a complete happiness. Larei, the son of M. Lainé, who was killed in Candia, or his brother, is dangerously wounded. You see how soon our old heroes are forgotten.

Madame de Brinvilliers is not so comfortable as I am; she is in prison, and endeavors to pass her time there as pleasantly as she can; she desired yesterday to play at piquet, because she was dull. Her confession has been found; it informs us that at the age of seven years she ceased to be a virgin; that she had ever since gone on at the same rate; that she had poisoned her father, her brothers, one of her children, and herself; but the last was only to make trial of a counter-poison. Medea was a saint compared with her. She has owned this confession to be her own writing; it was an unaccountable folly; but she says she was in a high fever when she wrote it, and that it was an act of madness or frenzy, which does not deserve a serious thought.

The queen has been twice at the Carmelites with Madame de Montespan. The latter set on foot a lottery; she collected every thing that could be useful to the nuns; this was a great novelty and amusement in the convent. She conversed a long time with sister Louise[140] de la Miséricorde, and asked her whether it was really true that she was as happy there as it had been generally reported. She replied, “I am not happy, but I am contented.” Quanto talked to her a great deal of the brother of monsieur; and asked her if she had no message to send him, and what she should say to him for her. She replied in the sweetest tone and manner possible, though perhaps a little piqued at the question; “Whatever you please, madam, whatever you please.” Fancy this to be expressed with all the grace, spirit, and modesty, which you so well understand. Quanto afterward wished for something to eat, and sent to purchase some ingredient that was necessary for a sauce she prepared herself, and which she ate with a wonderful appetite. I tell you the simple fact without the least embellishment. When I think of the letter you wrote me last year about M. de Vivonne, I consider all I send you as a burlesque. To what lengths will not folly lead a man who thinks himself deserving of such exaggerated praise!

[140] Madame de la Vallière.