Chapter VII: Letter VI: PARIS, June 3, 1668

I wrote to you the last; why have you not answered my letter? I have been expecting to hear from you, and have at length found the Italian proverb true: _chi offende non perdona_--the offender never pardons.

Madame d’Assigny has informed me that part of a cornice has fallen upon your head, and hurt you considerably. If you were well, and I dared exercise a little wicked wit upon the occasion, I should tell you that they are not trifling ornaments like these that injure the heads of husbands in general; and that it would be a fortunate circumstance for them if they met with no worse evil than the fall of a cornice. But I will not talk nonsense; I will first know how you are, and assure you that the same reason which made me languid when you were bled, gives me the headache from your accident. The ties of relationship can not, I think, be carried further than this.

My daughter was on the point of marriage. The affair is broken off, I hardly know why. She kisses your hand; I do the same to your whole family. Have you done any thing yet with regard to the court? Pray let me know how you stand there.