Majesty.’
Montespan was finding that the air here, too, was rotten. His father-in-law was getting carried away, flapping his lace. ‘Ah, why can you not be like the others! You would have made your existence a fine one, and died a marshal of France and governor of a good province, instead of trailing a pack of creditors in your wake.’
‘I am in love with your daughter…’
‘The Prince de Soubise was certainly more elegant than you are and yet he, too, in the beginning, baulked when Louis laid eyes upon his wife. He even attempted to make His Majesty believe that she was scrofulous: “She’s a fine apple, sire, but she is rotten within.” “Indeed?” replied the King. “I will see for myself by venturing therein.” Then the husband bowed his head and had the tact to stay out of sight for the duration of the liaison. In compensation he received a considerable sum of money and one of the finest houses in Paris. He transformed his horns of shame into horns of plenty.’
Gabriel de Rochechouart, Duc de Mortemart, poured himself a little cherry liqueur, and offered some to his son-in-law, who declined with a wave of his hand and a sigh.
‘Thus, there is only my uncle left – Henri Gondrin, the Archbishop of Sens – who might take my side … He shall condemn the King’s adultery from his very pulpit.’
‘His Majesty will soften him with a cardinal’s hat. Louis-Henri, to be a king’s cuckold is the chance of a lifetime. Do not let it go by, it will not come your way again.’
‘How can anyone think I shall remain silent and accept this?’
‘You are mad.’
‘Mad about Françoise.’
‘Ah, there he goes again! Such a fuss because the King likes to play the libertine with my daughter!’
Montespan restrained himself from doing violence to his father-in-law.
‘Louis-Henri, accept this state of affairs, else everyone will find you in poor taste. The King is vexed by the noisy, repeated demonstrations of a subject who is insolent enough to dare lay claim to his wife. You have become a figure of fun in Paris. ’Tis said Molière is writing a play about you.’
‘Oh, really?’
18.
Amphitryon arrived on stage in front of his domain in Thebes, and stood next to a servant (Sosie) played by the author of the play; he was angry with Jupiter because he had just heard an unlikely story. He had discovered that whilst he had been away at war, the god (who rode astride an eagle, up there on his cloud) had cuckolded him by taking on his physical appearance in order to spend the night with his wife (Alcmene); from this union a child would be born:
JUPITER : To you a son shall be born who, under the name of Hercules …
A married man rarely appreciates another man announcing to him that his wife is with child and that the name has been chosen without consulting him. It might have amused the spectators at the Théâtre du Palais-Royal but it clearly did not amuse Amphitryon, or Montespan, in the theatre.
Louis-Henri, standing among the crowd in the stalls, had paid fifteen sols for his ticket. The seats costing six livres were in the dress circle, the boxes, and on either side of the stage where the King, accompanied by Françoise, was attending the performance that 16 January 1668. The husband could not make out his rival’s features so grand were the King’s plumes, but from time to time he could just perceive, behind His Majesty, and depending on whether she leant forward or back on the seat, the blond curls on his wife’s neck, or sometimes her profile. Often the actors turned deferentially to the monarch. At other times, they shouted abuse at Montespan in the audience.
‘He may now console himself, for strokes from the wand of a god confer honour on him who has to submit to them.’
‘Upon my word, Monsieur God, I am your servant; I could have done without your attentions … ’
All around the marquis the crowd were laughing. The aristocrats shoved him with their shoulders or their
Montespan was finding that the air here, too, was rotten. His father-in-law was getting carried away, flapping his lace. ‘Ah, why can you not be like the others! You would have made your existence a fine one, and died a marshal of France and governor of a good province, instead of trailing a pack of creditors in your wake.’
‘I am in love with your daughter…’
‘The Prince de Soubise was certainly more elegant than you are and yet he, too, in the beginning, baulked when Louis laid eyes upon his wife. He even attempted to make His Majesty believe that she was scrofulous: “She’s a fine apple, sire, but she is rotten within.” “Indeed?” replied the King. “I will see for myself by venturing therein.” Then the husband bowed his head and had the tact to stay out of sight for the duration of the liaison. In compensation he received a considerable sum of money and one of the finest houses in Paris. He transformed his horns of shame into horns of plenty.’
Gabriel de Rochechouart, Duc de Mortemart, poured himself a little cherry liqueur, and offered some to his son-in-law, who declined with a wave of his hand and a sigh.
‘Thus, there is only my uncle left – Henri Gondrin, the Archbishop of Sens – who might take my side … He shall condemn the King’s adultery from his very pulpit.’
‘His Majesty will soften him with a cardinal’s hat. Louis-Henri, to be a king’s cuckold is the chance of a lifetime. Do not let it go by, it will not come your way again.’
‘How can anyone think I shall remain silent and accept this?’
‘You are mad.’
‘Mad about Françoise.’
‘Ah, there he goes again! Such a fuss because the King likes to play the libertine with my daughter!’
Montespan restrained himself from doing violence to his father-in-law.
‘Louis-Henri, accept this state of affairs, else everyone will find you in poor taste. The King is vexed by the noisy, repeated demonstrations of a subject who is insolent enough to dare lay claim to his wife. You have become a figure of fun in Paris. ’Tis said Molière is writing a play about you.’
‘Oh, really?’
18.
Amphitryon arrived on stage in front of his domain in Thebes, and stood next to a servant (Sosie) played by the author of the play; he was angry with Jupiter because he had just heard an unlikely story. He had discovered that whilst he had been away at war, the god (who rode astride an eagle, up there on his cloud) had cuckolded him by taking on his physical appearance in order to spend the night with his wife (Alcmene); from this union a child would be born:
JUPITER : To you a son shall be born who, under the name of Hercules …
A married man rarely appreciates another man announcing to him that his wife is with child and that the name has been chosen without consulting him. It might have amused the spectators at the Théâtre du Palais-Royal but it clearly did not amuse Amphitryon, or Montespan, in the theatre.
Louis-Henri, standing among the crowd in the stalls, had paid fifteen sols for his ticket. The seats costing six livres were in the dress circle, the boxes, and on either side of the stage where the King, accompanied by Françoise, was attending the performance that 16 January 1668. The husband could not make out his rival’s features so grand were the King’s plumes, but from time to time he could just perceive, behind His Majesty, and depending on whether she leant forward or back on the seat, the blond curls on his wife’s neck, or sometimes her profile. Often the actors turned deferentially to the monarch. At other times, they shouted abuse at Montespan in the audience.
‘He may now console himself, for strokes from the wand of a god confer honour on him who has to submit to them.’
‘Upon my word, Monsieur God, I am your servant; I could have done without your attentions … ’
All around the marquis the crowd were laughing. The aristocrats shoved him with their shoulders or their
Similar Books
