Part 5 (1/2)
Beside herself with grief, La Valliere left by another door, so as to avoid her servants and her coach She recollected seeing a little convent of hospitalieres at Saint Cloud; she went thither on foot, and was cordially welcomed by these dames
Next day it was noised abroad in the chateau that she had been carried off by order of the Queen-itated, and no sooner had the preacher ascended the pulpit than he rose and disappeared
The confusion of the two Queens was manifest; no one paid any heed to the preacher; he scarcely knehere he was
Meanwhile the conquering King had started upon his quest Followed by a page and a carriage and pair, he first went to Chaillot, and then to Saint Cloud, where he rang at the entrance of the modest abode which harboured his friend The nun at the turnstile answered him harshly, and denied him an audience It is true, he only told her he was a cousin or a relative
Seeing that this nun was devoid of sense and of huardener, who lived close to the old pieces into his hand, and o and tell the Lady Superior that he had co
The Lady Superior ca frorandeur to interest hi lady of quality, devoid of ive her up to hi he so co, or in other words, the dictates of her own heart, i upon a career of passion, for which a temperament wholly different from hers was needed
It is not simple-minded maidens that one wants at Court to share the confidence of princes No doubt natures of that sort--sireeable to thereedily prize; but for these unsullied, romantic natures, disillusion, trickery alone is in store And if Madeht have turnedup her youth to a ed to end, her days in a prison
The King no longer visited her as his mistress, but trusted and esteemed her as a friend and as the mother of his two pretty children
One day, in the ardens, received the following letter, which one of La Valliere's pages proffered hi forever this palace, whither the cruellest of fatalities summoned my youth and inexperience Had I not met you, my heart would have loved seclusion, a laborious life, and my kinsfolk An iave me to you, and, simple, docile as I was by nature, I believed that my passion would always prove to me delicious, and that your love would never die In this world nothing endures My fond attachment has ceased to have any charm for you, and my heart is filled with dismay This trial has come from God; of this my reason and my faith are convinced God has felt co past I have suffered is greater than hu to receiveand peace
In this theatre of pomp and perfidy I have only stayed until such a ht more easily do without me You will cherish them both; of that I have no doubt Guide thelory and their well-being
May your watchful care sustain them, while their mother, humbled and prostrate in a cloister, shall commend them to Him who pardons all
After my departure, show some kindness to those ere n to take back the estates and residences which served to support randeur, and maintain the celebrity that I deplore
Adieu, Sire! Think no ination et links of sympathy in my heart which conscience and repentance would fain destroy
If God call ranted er in this desert of penitence, it will never compensate for the duration of my error, nor for the scandal of which I have been the cause
Your subject fro had not been expecting so desperate a resolve as this, nor did he feel inclined to hinder her frouese aitation, and hastened to Madame de la Valliere's, who had left her apart kind of heart and convinced that a body so graceful and so delicate would never be able to resist the rigours and hardshi+ps of so terrible a life
The Carmelite nuns of the Rue Saint Jacques loudly proclailadly received into their uished a victih sheer despair
The cere the dress” attracted the entire Court to their church The Queen herself desired to be present at so harrowing a spectacle, and by a curious contradiction, of which her capricious nature is capable, she shed floods of tears La Valliere seeentler, lovelier, more rief and tears which her courageous sacrifice provoked, she never uttered a single sigh, nor did she change colour once Hers was a nature made for extre!”
The Abbe de Bossuet, who had been charged to preach the ser none at all The King must have felt indebted to hiue commonplaces, which neither touch nor wound any one; honeyed anathemas such as these may even pass for coreat nareat wealth by words
A proof of his cleverness exists in his having lived in grandeur, opulence, and worldly happiness, while s