THE COURT OF St. GERMAIN's: OR, THE Secret History OF The Late King JAMES and Queen MARY.  
From Their First Arrival in France, to this Time.  
From the French Original.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year, MDCXCV.   

THE COURT OF St. GERMAINS.  
THEIR Britannic Majesties had no sooner quitted London, and dispossessed themselves of Three Kingdoms, but ●●ey were received at Paris by all the ●●ourt. Where the French King, to ●●ssen their Sorrows, endeavoured by 〈◊〉 the most engaging ways in the World, 〈◊〉 assuage their Grief, which their se●●ration from Enthronement might oc●●sion; and to that effect, after he had ●●ven K. James, and the Queen his Con●●rt, all the Demonstrations of Brotherly Friendship, accompanied with an Extraordinary Generosity, 'twas His Majesty's Pleasure to make 'em partakers of all the Pleasures and most Charming Pastimes of his Court. Among the rest our Monarch proposed to the Q. now fled to him for Succour, the Divertisements of Amorous Courtship and other Recreations, as the most acceptable means to allay the Anguish of her Troubles. Nor did the Queen, who had always an inclination leaning that way, make any great Resistance; which extremely pleased the King, who was not altogether insensible of a growing Kindness for her, and who had given her certain proofs of it since her arrival in France. Some time after their Abode at St. Germains, which is the place of their Residence, the King ordered the Archbishop of Paris, and the Bishop of Meaux to visit their Majesties, and to infuse into 'em that Patience which was necessary for good Catholics. And that Illustrious Prelate employed a World of Eloquence to make it out to the King and Queen from Examples in History, that they were not the only Princes who had lost their Crowns, and that it was a glorious thing to suffer the Crosses and Afflictions of this Life with Constancy, and without Murmuring. Which done he took his leave, deeply smitt'n with the Merits of that Princess who had made appear so much Solidity in all her Discourse, and convinced him that the Court of France was not the only place that monopolised all that was worthy of Esteem and Love.  
It may be therefore said, That from that very Day the Queen knew how to manage her Conquest, and preserve it: And in regard she is an Italian, as being the Duke of Modena's Daughter, and nearly related to the Pope, she carried herself with a great deal of Address and Artifice. Nor would the Reverend Fathers the Jesuits be silent upon such an occasion as this; every one would go to pay their Respects to their Majesties, more especially the Fathers La Chaise and Bourdalou made it a considerable part of their business, as they that took great delight to report their Observations to the King. And indeed the frequent Visits of our Monarch, the Dauphin, and all the Ladies, caused the Queen to forget a good part of her Sorrows. The Princes of Conti, and Espinoi propounded to her Hunting Matches with the Duchess of Orleans, who prefers Hunting before all other Sports in the World, as being frequently at the Head of the Hounds, Apparelled like the rest of the Huntsmen.  
At St. Clou's it was, where first they tasted those Country Pleasures, which were attended with a Ball, and a magnificent Banquet, the Violins and Hautboys playing all the Night. The Fair Ladies who were the Ornament of that Festival, appeared in all their Splendour. More particularly the Countess de Rourre displayed all her Excellencies in that Charming Assembly, and in regard she is none of the most Accomplished Beauties, she made the best of her pleasant Humour, much more amiable than her Features. The Danphin, who has more than ordinary kindness for her, never left her, and gave her to understand by many pretty Amorous Intimations, how much he Loved her; but the Princess of Lislebonne, and the Marchioness of Segnalay, who had a watchful Eye upon 'em, ever and anon would needs be interrupting the Monsieurs tender and passionate Expressions, which very much disgusted Madam de Rourre; insomuch that she made her Complaint to the Princess of Conti, who is the Duphin's Confident, telling her, That she was very Unfortunate to be so narrowly observed, even to the slightest of her Actions, which caused the Princess to Laugh, who in that merry fit went immediately and made the King acquainted with the Countess' Grievances. The King made himself sport with it, and because they thought the Dauphin far remote from any Violent Engagement, they forbore to watch him so narrowly; wherein the Court was deceived; for they found by the sequel, that the young Prince was as sensible of Love as other Men; which we shall endeavour to show in the following Relations.  
Let us return to the Queen, whom our Arcbishop had not the power to forsake, without speaking of that Love which reigned so predominantly in his Heart. But in regard that Prelates have not the Liberty which others have to express their Amorous Thoughts, the Archbishop was contented with enjoying the Presence of her who had wounded his Heart: Only Sighs and Languishing Looks were the Faithful Interpreters of his Passion, while he still observed those measures that suited best with his Character.  
But the Queen, who is expert in the Affair of Gallantry, soon Divined the meaning of his mute Language, as having an Inclination sufficiently prone to embrace the Sanctify'd Love of Men of the Church, which encloses within it unknown Mysteries. She had not forgot the sweet Hours she had passed away with her dear Nuncio Dada, whom the Pope had sent into England, to manage his Interests. For which reason it was, that she gladly and joyfully admitted Monsieur the Archbishop's Visits, and went oftener in her Coach to hear Mass and Vespers in the Convent of the Austin-friars-s, attended by her Confident the Marchioness of P— s. Love and Devotion were in her inseparable, through a Secret Union; which usually happens in Italy, where the Churches are the places of meeting for the carrying on of Love Intrigues. The Respect our Prelate had for a Princess so haughty and so handsome restrained him from telling her what he felt for her sake. But when he bethought himself that a Person of his Character had been beloved, those Ideas fortified her Hopes, and rendered him more undaunted in his Enterprise. On the other side the change of her Fortune, and the Passion which a certain English Lord has for that Charming Princess, and her Courtly manner of answering his Caresses, persuaded the Archbishop that he had not long to sigh in vain. So that at last the happy Minute arrived, and the Archbishop made known his Tender Sentiments to his Divine Queen.  
One Day that King James was at Marly, with the Duke of Vendosme, Grand Prior of France, the Count of St. Maure, and several Lords of the Court, the Archbishop, whom the Qu. had made acquainted with it in the Morning, giving him withal to understand, with a Graceful Air, That she should be glad of his Company in the Afternoon, being all alone at St. Germain's, our Archbishop, I say, upon these Encouragements, let her see by a profound Obeisance and a low Bow, that his Heart was brimful of Joy, and that he would not fail to make the best of his Opportunity. To which purpose he ordered his Lackeys to change their Liveries, and being himself muffled up in a Scarlet Cloak, that he might in some measure disguise himself, and deceive the People, who will always be prattling, especially at Paris, he entered the Castle, and meeting the Marchioness of P— s, who was in the Antichamber with one of the Queen's Maids of Honour, he gave her a Smile, as he gently pushed open the Door of the Cabinet, where our Princess sat Reading the Amours of Henry IU. very much wondering at his Inconstancy, and the number of his Mistresses, which made her Laugh, when she began to consider how little reason Ladies had to rely upon the Passion and Affections of Men. Monsieur, the Archbishop, after he had Saluted the Queen, opened his Heart, and gave her to understand some part of his pains. To which the Princess, beholding him with a tender Look, made answer, That she would see what might be done to render him less unhappy. Our Prelate seemed to be ravished with the Charms of her soft Expressions, and presently throwing himself at her Feet, embraced her knees, and kissing her hands a thousand times, protested to her that he never was so deeply in Love in his Life before. Then they laid their Heads together to consider which way they might fee one another, without being discovered by the Court. But it was a difficult matter to deceive the Hundred-eyed Argus' which our Monarch has prying about in all parts, to the end that nothing may escape him that is transacted in the City. At length the Queen told her new Lover, after she had pondered a while, That it would be the best way for him to disguise himself sometimes like a Music Master, for that she being a passionate Lover of Music, neither the King her Husband, nor any body else would take any notice of him; or else like a Bookseller that brought her Novels and Histories to read. This proposal was well approved; but the Question was, How to carry the Business neatly. To which purpose every thing was just concluded upon, when a Gentleman brought the Queen Letters from the Countess of Tyrconnel, who had been one of her Maids of Honour, and whom the King had Married to his Deputy of Ireland.  
The Queen was overjoyed to hear Tidings from her dear Friend, who had served her in several perilous occasions, no less sorry that she had her not then with her to assist her in the present Intrigue, being well assured, That that same Lady would have been a great help to her, as being one that perfectly knew how to counterfeit Devotion, and talked of nothing else but the Holy Fathers of the Church, and of their Sufferings. King James being returned from Marly, took great delight in giving the Queen an Account of the Pastime he had taken in that little Journey, and how kindly he had been entertained by the Duke of Vendosme and the Count of St. Maure. The good Prince related every Passage with the greatest Candour and Freedom in the World, never dreaming of the Amorous Commerce of his tender Consort, who every way endeavoured to fulfil the King her Husband's Prophecy.  
For one Morning that K. James, then only Duke of York, and a Widower, was walking in the Long-Gallery next to St. James'- Park, with some others of the Nobility: it so fell out that he met with an ginger in that place. The Duke of York perceiving a great Throng of People-gathered together, and curious to know the reason of the noise they made, went up directly to the Crowd with his Company, and asked, What the matter was? At what time a Gentleman told him, That they had got among 'em a Famous ginger, who saw in the Face of any man what would befall him in his Life time. This created in the Duke a desire to know his own Destiny, so that he commanded the Wizard to attend him after Dinner, which the Old Soothsayer did. He excused himself however as long as he could, alleging the danger of telling Princes and Princesses their Fortunes, for that being exposed to the Capriccios of Fortune as well as other Men, the Truth was not many times to be spoken.  
But the unwillingness of the ginger increasing the Duke of York's desire, he pressed the Artist so much the more earnestly, and giving him his Hand told him withal, That whatever the Planets had appointed for him, he would take it in good part. Then the ginger looking steadfastly in the Duke's Face, uttered this Oracle, That if there were any Truth in the Stars, he would be in danger of Actaeon 's Fate, whenever he should chance to see a Diana Naked in the Bath. Upon which all the Nobility that were present fell a Laughing, and a long time after in their Merriments made Sport with the ginger and his Prediction. Some Years after this, when the thing was in a manner forgot, the D. of York went to the Bath, either for his Health, or for his Pleasure, and there, never dreaming of the Prophecy, by an Accident beheld a Lovely Young Lady, and of great Quality, Naked in one of the Baths, who Chid him for not withdrawing from the place, considering the Condition she was in. So that the satisfaction which the Duke had in staring upon a Beautiful and Charming Lady in the State of Innocence, concurred to make out the truth of an Unlucky Prediction.  
Let us now leave K. James II. to blazon his new Coat of Arms, and let us endeavour to show how it was enlarged and beautified by the number of his Dear Consorts Favourites. Monsieur the Arcbishop having upon a St. John's Day cast several passionate Looks upon the Queen in the Church, which were observed by the Dauphin and the Duke of Vendosm his Minion, those two Noble Personages, so soon as Sermon was done, went to walk in the Lovure, Laughing all the while at the Prelate's Amours. A very fine Business, cried the Dauphin, You see the ecclesiastics are subject to the same Temptations as we are ourselves. I remember I have heard it said at Court, that the Abbot of Bois Robert shared with Cardinal Mazarine, who was a Man of a wonderful Devotion, the Favours of the Beautiful Marion de l'Orme. By my Faith, replied the Duke smiling, since you assure me 'tis so, I'll try to be our Archbishop's Rival: We are good Friends enough to have one Mistress between us. Go on, said the Dauphin to the Duke, clapping him upon the Shoulder, go and push on your Good Fortune, if the Conquest pleases you. This Discourse would have lasted longer, but the vast number of People that meet in the Lovure, caused our two Sparks to take Coach again, and drive from thence to the Princess of Turennes, whom they found walking in one of the Alleys in her Garden. So soon as the Dauphin saw her, What, Madam, said he, taking the fresh Air all alone?— Yes, Sir, answered she, I came out of my Cabinet to divert my Melancholy. What is the cause of your Disquiet, Madam, that makes you so Contemplative, replied the Dauphin, if we may be permitted to inquire. Oh, Sir,— replied the Princess, the Insensibility of your Heart will not give you leave to understand it. Monsieur would have unfolded his Sentiments to the Princess of Turenne, when the Count of St. Maure entered the Garden, who proposed a Game at Cards, which took up the rest of the Day very pleasantly; only the Princess could not be reconciled to herself for having gone so far in discovering her tender Affection for the Dauphin, who so ill requited it. He was so taken up with the Favours Madam the Rourre bestowed upon him, and whom he sincerely Loved even before she was Married, when she was only one of the Dauphinesses Maids of Honour, that he very little minded the Caresses of others.  
Mademoiselle de la Force, now Mademoiselle de Rourre, was always so full of her Wanton Tricks, and such a Cocquet with all, that every time she saw the Monsieur, if he were not in Company with the Dauphiness, that Incomparable Lady had still something to say to the Dauphin so divertising, that she made him Laugh. For which reason it was that the Court gave her the Epithet of the Witty Jester. But this Gaiety included within it an Ambitious design: For it was to ensnare the Dauphin's Heart that the young Artist laid her Springs; wherein she has succeeded to a Miracle; since 'tis certain that the Illustrious Dauphin has smitten her in the most sensible part.  
But to return to the Princess of Turenne, she had taken another way to stop the Career of the Prince's Affection. She had showed him the strength of her first Passion, in telling him, That her Repose depended upon an Auspicious Glance, an endearing cast of his Eyes, to which the Monsieur did not answer like a Graceful Courtier, which drew upon him the Raillery of some Unlucky Lampoons.  
The Prince of Turenne desirous of a secret Revenge, had offered his Vows to the Countess of Bourre, who had allowed 'em a favourable Reception, which extremely perplexed the Count her Husband, who was a Good Man, that could have loved an Honest Woman. I must leave the rest for a while, to find out our Sorbonne Doctor, who was busily employed in composing a Letter as tender as his Heart, to be sent to the Queen at St. Germains, whom he had not seen since the Day before. We impart it to the Reader as it came to o● Hands.  
A Letter of Monsieur the Archbishop to the QVEEN.  
Madam,  
THose Hours which I waste remote fro● your Company, seem to me of an infinite length. It would be my greatest pleasure, Divine Queen, to assure you, ever● minute, of my Love, and of the strength 〈◊〉 my Passion. Oh! What a Life should 〈◊〉 lead, could my Good Fortune but procure 〈◊〉 so great a Felicity! But I was not Born 〈◊〉 taste so Heavenly a Happiness. I must therefore be contented with the favour which I enjoy by your Permission, which is to taste th● Fruition of your Adorable Presence, as opportunity will give me leave. Adien Madam, I will wait upon you this Afternoon.  
Our Prelate sent this Letter to th● Queen by one of his Lackeys, whom he ordered to change his Livery, and put on the Marchioness of Signalay's Colours, who frequently visited the Queen, and sent her little Presents almost every Day. And the new Lover of an Archbishop followed the Lackey almost at the Heels.  
Monsieur the Archbishop had for that Day laid aside his Gravity and his Pontifical Habits to Apparel himself like a Bookseller that furnished the Queen with new Books. No Man in the World could have better disguised himself then our Doctor of the Sorbonne. Mrs. Labady who is one of the Queen's Women, knew him not in that Disfigurement, but carried him into her Mistress' Cabinet, without any Ceremony. Nor did the Queen give him any other than a cold Reception in her rising up to Salute him. Wither it were that the Prelate did not please her in that same Dress of a Citizen, or that the News which she received every Day from England and Ireland, where Affairs went no way to her satisfaction, had put her into an ill Humour, or whither it were that the last Visits of this same Gallant, with his Spectacles upon his Nose, had cooled her Ardour, not finding in him the Briskness of a Youthful Champion, nor the Charming Vigour of her Adonis Dada In short our Adorable Venus could not endure the Amorous Caresse of the Sorbonne Doctor, without some kind of Uneasiness, which was a great trouble to● him, and forced him to ask her the● cause of her coldness. Ah, Madam● cried the Prelate all inflamed, I Lov● you to that degree that never Woman wa● more beloved, Wherefore do you not answer the Violence of my Passion?  
The Queen who saw that her Reluctancy had warmed the Heart and Impagination of her Lover, and that he began to be impatient, granted what he demanded, most tenderly embracing him Which overjoyed the Roman Patriarch, so that he Kissed his Lovely Goddess a● thousand times as she sat upon his knee● Thus Charmed with his Good Fortune, at length he took his leave of the Queen hearing that Lewis XIV. was coming to give her a Visit. Alas! (said he in a great Fume) What a World of Measure are we bound to observe? My Misfortune reduces me to keep fair with a World of People for whom I have no kindness! Strange for of Politics! Now St. Mary of Lorette● have pity upon me. The Queen was also making her Devout Lamentations, when the K. surprised her, and asked her with whom she was talking so dolefully. Sir, said she, I was praying to our good Saint of Loretto that she would vouchsafe to restore me to my Throne. Oh, Madam, replied his Majesty, drawing his Sword, this same Steel shall revenge your Cause in due time. The Queen seemed surprised and admiring the King's Valour, Sir, said she, with a smile, put up your Sword against the time of Battle; which the Hector of Tory did accordingly.  
The Queen who was tired out with the Complacency which she had been forced to show the Archbishop held no long Discourse with our Monarch, who could not divine the reason of his Mistresses unequal Temper. As for the Roman Doctor who was gone to one of his Friends Houses to shift himself, and reassume his Sacerdotal Vestments, be●ore he could return to his Palace, he was much troubled when he understood by Mr. Vincent his Valet de Chambre, that ●e had been stayed for all the Day at the sorbonne about Business relating to the Church, and that the Bishop of Meaux ●ad been seeking for him up and down ●●om place to place to speak with him.  
Aboutthe same time the Duke of Vendosme, who had told the Dauphin in Merriment, that he intended to be the Archbishop's Rival, went to St. Germains with a design to tell his Bale to the Queen, and found his Courtly Addresses not ill repaid. But that same Crafty Gallant, who understood perfectly well what belonged to Amorous familiarities, found that Princess too deeply learned in Love, which disgusted him, and caused him to return to his Amiable Nanon de Bois, a Tailor's Daughter in the Fauxburgh St. Antoine. Well— said the Grand Prior of France, the Favours of my pretty Nanon are worth all the Leave of an Italian that has parted with her Honesty. He therefore made the Dauphin and the Count of St. Maure privy to the Secret, who took a more than ordinary Delight to make sport with it, by causing several Satyrical Lampoons to be thrown in at the Windows and into the Porches of the Archbishop's Palace; among which this that follows was one.  
Reverend Patriarch,  
YOur Altar has been lusted after; a Lovely-feathered Bird designed to ●●ve built her Nest thee; but finding it nei●●er proper nor clean, and too easy of Ac●●●s, she flew to another place. You ought ●●hinder your Swallow from Caressing all the 〈◊〉 she sees, or at least to fasten the Wires 〈◊〉 her closer together.  
This Reproach put the Prelate into ●●●ind of Fet, not being able to Divine ●●●m whence it came. But at length he ●●●●forted up himself, as being accustomed to Coourtly Intrigues, which he 〈◊〉 very private, never making any 〈◊〉 of 'em; such were those of the marchioness of Bretonvillers, the Abbess 〈◊〉 Montmartre, the Pretty Sempstress, 〈◊〉 the Beautiful Embroideress, whom 〈◊〉 went to visit so soon as it began to 〈◊〉 Duskish.  
This formal piece of outward Devo●●● was afraid lest it should be pub●●ly reported, that he lighted his Ta●●● before the Queen's Altar; which ●●●ld have rendered several She-Saints jealous of his carrying his Holy Water so far as St. Germains. All these Pious and Moral Considerations somewhat slackened our Doctor's Affection, together with the coldness of his Mistress, whose Politics would not permit her to lose him quite, though she cared not so much for continual Lip to Lip with an Old Sanctify'd Fornicator. In short Monsieur the Archbishop forbore to visit the Queen any more, unless it were to carry her his Benediction upon noted Holydays, or to ferret the Evil Spirits out of her chamber. On the other side our Princess who was a Passionate Lover of Amorous Combats, and who could not forbear the having still some worthy Champions under her Standards, soon after declared War against another Loving Enemy. It happened then that this same tender Amazon had chafed herself to that degree in the Field of Venus that she fell sick. For her Victory having enlivened, her she felt some effects of the heat of the Combat, which caused her to keep her Bed for some time: However she was visited all the while by the Reverend Father, Jesuits and others in Religious Orders. But not one of those Holy Fathers could comfort her with all their Learning. There was only one young Curate of St. Martin, whom that Princess had heard preach, who could instruct her, at least as well as the Life of Clement VI which she frequently read, who commanded the Angels to carry into Paradise those that Died coming in Pilgrimage to Rome.  
This Young Priest was a Marry Companion, well shaped, having a good Aspect, very Fair, and much a Courtier. He needed no more to Charm beyond measure a Woman of her Humour, who could not live without Square Caps, or Swords to guard her from the Fears that her Husbands ill success inspired into her. For which reason it was that the Lovely Patient in the time of her sickness mustered up together all the rare Qualities of her Amiable Curate. She also told her Confident the Marchioness of P— s, ●hat she could not forget the Sermon she ●ad heard at St. Martin's; that ever since, ●er Heart had been warmed with an Ar●ent Devotion, and that she should be overjoyed to see, in her sickness, that powerful Preacher.  
The Marchioness who understood ●er, looked upon her with a fixed Eye, ●nd falling into a Laughter, told her she would do her Endeavour that she should have the Benediction of the Pious Curate when she pleased. Ah Marchioness, replied the Queen, thou speakest this merrily and laughing, but I assure thee I am in love with his manner of Preaching. Madam, replied the Marchioness, I believe he is much better at handling a Text of Love. 'Tis true, said the Queen, for he is a Lusty Man, well turned, and whose Face speaks him to be a Lover of Women; I would fain speak with him. That's no hard matter to do, Madam, replied the Marchioness, for I know his Sister who lives with Madam de Segnelay, and is as good a Girl as any is i' the World; I'll speak to her this ver● Day, and after such a manner that she shall have no suspicion of any thing. Do so, my Dear, replied the Queen, thou dost no● know what a kindness thou wilt do me to le● me see the Curate.  
The next Day the Marchioness gave a Visit to Madam the Seignelay, where she saw Mademoiselle de Fontaine, to whom she spoke a thousand things in Commendation of her Brother, and how highly the Queen was pleased with his last Sermon, and that she would be gad to have some Discourse now and then with a Person so Zealous and so Religious She added withal, That the Queen was a Woman of an Exemplary Devotion, that she spent the greatest part of her time in her Chapel, and that she risen every Night to say her Prayers, and to read the Lives of the Saints, particularly of our Lady of Loretto, who is the greatest Saint that ever was, and the most humble in all her Actions.  
Mademoiselle de Fontaine was a little surprised at first to hear what a Portraiture the Marchioness made of the Queen's Piety. To which the Damsel answered very civilly, that her Brother was very happy to have moved the heart of so great a Princess, and that she would not fail to acquaint him with the good Tidings.  
After the Marchioness was gone, de la Fontaine gave Madam the Segnelay an Account of her Brother's Good Fortune, and she related it again to her Husband, who Laughed a long time at the Extraordinary Inclinations of the Queen, frequently saying in Merriment, That he who would please that Princess, must be of the Sanctify'd Order. I assure ye, Sir, said the Marchioness of Segnelay Laughing, there are Persons sometimes to be me with of an Extraordinary Merit, who retire from the World to mind nothing 〈◊〉 the Great Business of their Salvation. Yo● may perhaps in time, Madam, replied th● Marquis with a smile of Derision, 〈◊〉 brought to Love such Men in imitation of 〈◊〉 Pious a Queen, but have you a care of those subtle Serpents that know so well to sting Ladies in their most sensible part. The Marquis farther told his Wife, that the Queen had always been a Lover of Coquettry, and Amorous Intrigues before she went into England. You know moreover yourself that this Princess coming to the Court of France, appeared so Excellent an Artist in all her Gallantries, that the King himself had a tender Affection for her, and that his Majesty wrote in her Favour to King James as of a Person altogether Charming, and one that deserved his Heart. And 〈◊〉 know myself that in Italy● she was look● upon as one that held a private Commerce with Count Don Quixote, and the Baron of Santifiori, who were both Rivals, yet agreed very well together.  
The marquess of Seignelay, who wa● Secretary of State, would have told his Wife more, would the Orders which he received that Day from the King have permitted him to have stayed longe● with her, so that he left her at his Castle, where she was not long alone however notwithstanding his Absence. For the Chevalier de Novailles, Lieutenant General, whom she Loved a Thousand times better than her Husband, kept her Company like a Faithful Friend, and divertised her to the utmost of his power. But that which interrupted the Marchionesses Pleasures deserves to be here set down. That Lady had a Parrot which one of the Pages, like an Unluckily Slipstring, had taught to say, I'll tell Monsieur, Madam, if you let any Bod. open his Cabinet.  
This prattling ●ar●ot disturbed the Loving Couple. For she was afraid the Lackeys had discovered something of her Amours with the Chevalier de Novailes, and lest the noise of it should wake her Husband's Jealousies, who was Friend to Coquets, and had no such Complacency for his Wife as to wear Horns because they were of her making. These Reasons caused Madam Seignalay to return with all speed to Paris, and desire her Gallant to forbear his Visits for some time, to take away all suspicion of any such thing as an Amorous Intrigue. But 'tis a very hard matter for us to appear what we are not, and they that would appear otherwise then they are, must take a great deal of pains. To this purpose the Marchioness went every Day to Mass with the greatest Devotion i● the World, and would hardly be seen of any Body in hopes to deceive the most quicksighted. But Love who never loses his Rights, and suffered her to play this Game for a while, returned soon after more dangerous than ever, sparkling in the Eyes of the Fair Lady with all his Graces, full of powerful Charms; which caused Madam the Seignelay to fall into a deep Mela choly and a profound vexation of mind that lasted a long time. Nay, she fled the sight of her Lover; believing that Absence would Cure her: But alas! Time has let us see, that Love is a Mischief which Absence cannot cure, and that it requires some more prevailing Medicament than that feeble Remedy.  
The Marchioness was sometimes troubled that she had listened to the Chevalier. But being Young, she did not think that Passion was so cleverly conveyed to the Heart through the Ears, as through the Eyes, and therefore that the following Verses which her Gallant would be always singing to her spoke truth.  
At first a Toy we think it, tamed with ease;  
But every thing in Love is to be feared,  
And she that would be faithful, one to please,  
If once she listens, she's for ever snared.  
The Marchioness of P— s, who had told the Queen how neatly she had managed the Business between her and Mademoiselle de la Fontaine in reference to her Brother, extremely pleased that Princess, in hopes that the Complimental Priest would come to wait upon her without being put to the trouble of sending for him. These tickling Fancies rejoiced the Queen's Heart, who was still sick, when Monsieur the Archbishop, who could not as yet restrain his Affection for her, notwithstanding the Reproaches he had undergone for her sake, and the little Love which that Fair Venus reserved for him, though she carried it fairly with him by reason of her Misfortunes, flattering herself that the Head of the Council of Lewis XIV's Conscience, together with his Majesty, might be serviceable to her in her Designs and Necessities, came to give her a Visit.  
The Prelate therefore being alighted out of his Coach, was by Mrs. Labad●● conducted into the Queen's Chamber, who received him very civility, and gave him an Account of her Sickness, to which the Sorbonne Doctor answered with much tenderness, though he stayed not long with his Fair Minioness, which nothing at all surprised her; for she was already accustomed to see a Lover who was grown very chary of his Visits; a thing that nothing displeased her, seeing her chiefest aim was only to preserve his friendship. On the other side, the Curate of St. Mart●n, who had understood from his Sister and several others the great Commendations which the Queen gave him, had conceived such a high Opinion of himself, that for the fixing of his Happiness, he resolved to go and pay his Devoirs to her Majesty, and to let her understand how much he was overjoyed to hear himself applauded by a Person of her Illustrious Character and transcending worth, which overloaded that Princess with a satisfaction not to be expessed; and at the same time a Page came to inform her, That the Curate of St. Martin's was in the Castle Court, and that hedesired, with her Majesty's permission, to pay his respects to her.  
At those words the Queen seemed to be in a strange discomposure of Mind, so that she had hardly strength enough to conceal her joy, which was extraordinary, as generally it happens at the beginning of fresh Amours. But her Amorous Transports being a little calmed, she ordered the Curate to be sent for up, who after several Pedantic Scrapes, Cringes of a Journyman-Taylor, and affected motions of his Head, told her with all the Rhetoric, and the best studied language that he had, how happy he was in having the Honour to please a Princess of so great a Judgement, and whose Virtue made such a noise i' the World. The Queen ordered an Elbow-Chair to be brought him, which the Curate had so much Manners or Discretion to refuse, but the Duchess of Portsmouth, who was in the Chamber, told him very Complementally, that he ought to obey the Queen's Orders. That day there was nothing discoursed of but Devotion and Piety, and Monsieur the Curate spoke like an Angel. Among other things he talked Seraphi●ly of the Holy Exultations that were inspired into him by reading the Blesse● Works of Catherine of Sienna, who fo● her infinite Merit, and her Devout Life had rendered herself worthy to be th● Spouse of Christ, who descended from Heaven on purpose to Marry her.  
The Marchioness of P— s, by th● aid of her Bigotry, prolonged th● Conversation with several other Tale● of the same Nature: Insomuch that they also chatted of the Arrival of St. Clement, who was to make his Entry into Paris with all the pomp in practice among the Saints. At what time th● Duchess of Portsmouth pull d out of he● Pocket a Letter which she had receive● out of Bretagne from the Nunnery o● Joy, written to her by Madam de Plain her Aunt, who was Abbess of that Sanctify'd place, wherein she set forth th● Penances she enjoined her Nuns, an● how happy they were that mortified their Flesh in this World.  
Such Godly Discourse began to offend the Queen, who broke off the Pious Conversation, by talking of New and the Gallantries of the Court. Al● which time the Curate showed great Reservedness and Moderation by judging judiciously and soberly of the Persons mentioned; which begot him so much ●he more esteem among the Ladies. After which the Duchess of Portsmouth, and Madam P— s having other Business left the Queen and the Curate alone together.  
The Queen thus finding herself at liberty, ordered Monsieur the Curate to draw his Chair a little nearer, which he durst not do till after the Queen had commanded him several times. Well, Sir, said she, you may now believe yourself the Most Fortunate of Men. The Curate blushed to see the Queen so eager upon the business, but answered her only with a Sigh, which gave the Illustrious Enamoured to understand that her new Lover was not altogether insensible of her forwardness. And the Curate also began to feel his imagination somewhat Warmed, when the Princesses of Soissons and Conti came to visit the Queen, who had hid her Curate between the Wall and the Bedside, where being tired with the tedious Chat of the Visitants he laid himself gently down and took a Nap.  
When the Princesses were gone, the Queen who thought the time of their stay to be an Age, tripped back to her Chamber, and drawing the Curtains of her Bed, beheld her Lovely Adonis fast a sleep, which grieved her to the heart. For that Princess was no Admirer of Drowsy Gallants; as she would often tell the Duchess of Portsmouth, fetching a deep sigh with all, That indeed the King her Husband went to Bed betimes; But why was it, my Dear, continued she,— because he Loved Sleeping the best of any Man in the World. The Queen therefore sitting down close by her Lover, made a little noise, which wakened him, though more dozed with shame than with sleep. Ah! My Dear, said she, presently, What a Coward you are!— Such words as those would have raised the Courage of any Curate that saw the Shepherd's Hour at hand, and had had any Mettle in him. But the Great Looby fetched only a deep Alas! Accompanied with several Complaints, which could not pay that Princess the satisfaction she wanted. I know not whether it were the Presence of a Person of her Character, or her too easy Condescension which had rendered our Abbot, as it were  and void of sense; but certain it is, he did not behave himself like one who was to receive such new Favours from a Queen, being strangely nonplussed and quite out of order, though he were naturally a Boon Blade that never let an Opportunity slip, besides that he was a great Lover of Nocturnal Rendevouzes.  
The Queen, who was offended at the stupidness of her Lover, left him, and retired into her Cabinet to ruminate upon what she had done. During this Interval, our Monarch was earnestly seeking for her, to show her certain Letters which he had received out of Ireland from Tyrconnel and Lausun, giving him an Account of a supposed Victory, by the Death of marshal Schomberg, and the Wound which King William had received by the brush of a Cannon-Bullet.  
These Tidings overjoyed the Court to that degree, that they made Bonfires, and revealed in Extravagancies even to Madness for above eight Days together. All the Ladies and Lords spent their time in Debauches, Balls, Comedies, Operas and whatever else might satisfy their Senses.  
The Dauphin entertained the illustrious Assembly at Choisi, with an Extraordinary Magnificence, and gave 'em all the Divertisements imaginable. The Ladies went with the Princes and Lords a Hawking with their Feathers in their Hats, and Accoutred in Scarlet Justacores. The Princesses of Conti, du Ma●ere and Soissons, we Indefatigable Racers, which engaged the Dauphin, the Duke of Chartres and others in the same sport, though they were glad to yield the Victory to those Amiable Heroesses.  
The next Day the Queen, who had not yet well recovered her strength, struck in with that same Troop of Gods and Goddesses, on purpose to take a little Air, and share in the pleasure of that Princely Entertainment, attended by the Duchess of Portsmouth, the Marchioness of Seignelay, Madam P—s and several other Lords and Ladies. His Majesty also, and the Princes who saw that the Presence of the Queen had angmented the Number of the Assembly, ordered the following Night to be enlightened with Fireworks, as a Testimony how glad he was to see her. Our Monarch also, who knew that the Quee● was a passionate Lover of Music, ordered a most Charming Consort, and Symphony to be provided against the next Day, for her more splendid Entertainment. And the next Day they returned to Paris, where they went to an Opera of Apollo and the Muses, which was represented in the Palace, and the next Day to another of Shafalus and Procris.  
By this time the Curate of St. Martin, who had reflected upon the Queen's Favours, and his own want of Courage, was ready to Hang himself for having lost so fair an opportunity. Coward as thou wert, said the vexed Lover to himself, that could not answer the forward Advances of so Adorable a Princess, nor recover thyself into a Condition to improve thy Good Fortune! But I believe the Great Merit of that Incomparable Lady bewitched me, since all that make a Man to be a Man was Insensible and motionless within me.  
These Reflections being over, our Gallant resolved to show his Mistress all his Valour, and to acquit himself after another manner for the future, or else to be revenged upon his Carcase. As for the Queen, in the midst of all the Pleasures wherewith the Court had entertained her, she had not forgot to ponder upon the last Advanture that had befallen her. But in regard she had not spoken a word of it, to any Body, she the more comforted up herself with making a Mystery of her Amorous Secrets. On the other side, the Curate who burned with a desire to show the value of his Parts, adventured to wait upon his Princess, whom he found musing in a Gallery that led to the Pr. of Wales' Chamber. So soon as the Queen beheld her Gallant, she fell a Blushing. But having recovered herself from that dissorder, which was the effect of her desire, she requested him to walk into her Chamber, where they presently fell to work about those Pleasures which the sweetest of Passions infuses. Our Amiable Queen of Cyprus, who appeared altogether Charming in those Delicious Minutes, soon forgot her Sorrow for having discovered her Weakness to her Victor. So true it is that all our Designs against Love are but of a short continuance. When a Heart becomes sensible once of the Charms of that Passion, it always follows the Propensity that beck us it along. The Queen has promised herself a thousand times that she would never be in Love any more, the Pains and Vexations of which Passion surpass all the Joys which that same Bandy-legged Deity infuses into us. But to what purpose all our vain Reflections. Here is our Illustrious Penitent more tender than ever, half Swooning away in the Arms of her Lover, and acknowledging no other Felicity but that of Amoreous satisfaction.  
But Monsieur the Curate, who held his Divine Queen fast locked in his Arms, and Kiss d her tenderly all the while, was at his Wit's end when Mrs. Labady calling through the Keyhole of the Door, which was fastened within side, told her Majesty, That the Duchess of Chartres and Maine were alighted from their Coach at St. Germains, with an intent to Visit her immediately. The two Lours, who had not a little towsed and rumpled one another with their Amorous Caresses, put themselves to rights as well as they could: And that being done, the Curate whipped away down a Back pair of Stairs, and went home, whilethe Queen went to take a Walk with the Duchess' in the Galleries of the Lonure, which are full of Paintings, describing the Battles of Alexander and Darius, done by M. le Brun. The Queen said, He was an Excellent Artist for that sort of Painting, but that he was not so good for Drawing a Face. 'Tis true, Madam, replied the Duchess of Main, that M. Migniart paints more naturally and to the Life then M. le Brun, who is only for History. Thus our Princesses were disputing the Business together, when the Dauphin, St. Maure, and the Princesses of Conti and Listebonne Arrived.  
So soon as the Princess of Conti beheld the Queen at a distance, she fell a Laughing, and Whispering the Dauphin in the Ear, Yonder, said she, is the Duke of Vendosme 's Amiable Mistress— Oh my dear Sisttr, replied the Monsieur, looking upon her with a Waggish Eye, our Prior has too dainty a Palate, to be satisfied with so common a Dish. The Princess, who was that Day in a Good Humour and resolved to be merry, was going to speak more of her mind, when the Queen and the Duchess' came to salut● her, and they talked of nothing bu● Paintings and Portraitures. At the same time the Count of St. Maure proposed their going altogether to M. Migniart's, where they should see Accomplished Beauties, and among the rest the Portraiture of a Daughter of one of the Advocates of the Council, which was the Loveliest Face that ever he beheld. The Dauphin approved the Design; so that all the Ladies took Coach immediately.  
M. Mignart told the Company he would show 'em his first Room, which was full of the Pictures of all the Lords in the Kingdom. There is one, said the Queen, I know very well; which happened to be Lausun's, and which was done so well to the Life, that it wanted only to speak.  
After they had a long time viewed all those Pieces, the Count of St. Maure desired the Painter to show 'em the Portraitures of the Ladies, which M. Migniart did accordingly. At what time the Count drawing near the Dauphin, showed him the Picture of the Fair Goujon, saying to him with a passionate Air, Sir, the Original of this Copy deserves the Affection of some Gallant Person. Monsieur found the Portraiture a thousand times Hand summer than the Count had described it, but returned him no other Answer than only this, Do you believe, said he, that there are any persons so Beautiful in the World, and that this Damsel is so Charming as the Painter has Drawn her? Monsieur Migniart who overheard him, made Answer to the Dauphin, that he had not flattered her in his Painting, but that the Picture was like her, not she like the Picture. Which last words made the Dauphin more carefully examine the Lovely Lineaments of that peerless Minioness, which put him into a deep Study. But the Queen and the Princesses, who had much ado to brook the Commendations that were bestowed upon that Beautiful Portraiture, out of mere Jealousy and Despite, told the Dauphin, That she had a Froward Wild Look, which made the Lords fall a Laughing, who plainly saw the contrary. More especially the Princess of Conti, Sir, said she to the Dauphin smiling, in time you will fall in Love with Women, for you look veny wistly upon 'em. Provided they wax like yourself, Madam, reply d the Monsieur, I could willingly consent to be in Love.  
After this Illustrious Company had left the Painter, every one retired to their own Habitations, except the Dauphin, who followed the Princess of Conti, his Confident, Home, where he spent the remainder of the Day in telling a Hundred Stories of the Court: And the Duke of Vendome and the Count of St. Maure, who also met him there, had their share of the merriment.  
The next Day our Monarch, who had not seen the Queen for some time, having been taken up with the Great devotion which Madam de Maintenon infuses into him by virtue of the Holy Water with which she besprinkles the Bolster of his Bed every Morning, and a great Rosary which she makes him always wear about his Arm, this Prince, I say, with his Pater Noster's, went to Visit his Mistress, who received him very Civil, as she was wont to do. After some serious Discourse, the King drew near his Princess to Caress her; and the first thing his majesty did, was to embrace her tenderly, and kiss her several times; but the Queen who spied his Rosary about his Wrist, asked him, Why he carried his Pater Noster's so familiarly. Oh— Madam, cried the King, there is an extraordinary Virtue in this Wood Yes, Sir, replied the Queen, there is no question of it— But do you know the Effects of this Rosary in the most Amorous Minutes? It cools the most inflamed Passion, and terrifies the Heart with those s●ings of Conscience that many times proves deadly. 'Tis very true, replied the King, pulling off his Rosary, I have found myself good for nothing ever since I wore it. But 'tis the Advice of my Confessor and Madam de Maintenon, who have assured me, that by saying my Ave Mary's several times a Day to the Holy Virgin with this Rosary, no misfortune shall befall either my Person or my Kingdom. You know, Madam, continued the King, that Lewis XIII. Rsigned his Crown to the protection of that Holy Patroness. Oh, Sir, said the Queen with a mournful utterance, talk no more of resigning Crowns, the very remembrance of it kills me. I would pray to St. Stephen and St. Lewis too a thousand times oftener than I do, if they would but restore me to that which I have lost. In the mean time, I find that the Saints are as great Cheats as Men and that there is no relying upon any thing in this World. Why, Madam, reply 〈◊〉 the King in a kind of Astonishment, did your Saint ever make you any promise? A● others do, said the Queen, who assure us o● their succour in our Distresses. However▪ Madam, replied the King, the Saint● have a great power, and we rarely lose th● Effects of that Devotion which we pay 'em. Some indeed there are, Sir, said she, that when 'tis for their Interest, harken to us in pursuance of their designs.  
Our Monarch, who perceived that a Devout Conversation did but render his Fair Maistress insensible of the Pleasures of Love, changed his Discourse, and told her with a passionate Air, That one Kiss tenderly imprinted by her fair Lips, would restore Life to the Dead. The Queen who united Love and Devotion together, made Answer to the King after a Languishing manner, That were it not for the sweet Minutes that a person Enamoured tastes, it would not be worth the while to live one Day. 'Tis true Charming Princess, said the King, that is the most sensible part. Alas! Sir, replied the Queen half in a Swoon, harp no more upon that string, for I feel myself teady to faint. The King who perceived the Queen in a Swooning Fit that caused her to throw herself upon the Bed, was preparing to assist her; but the Company coming in prevented his Sedulity.  
The Queen being come to herself admitted the Visit of Monsieur the Archbishop, who found her a little heated, though she had made use of her Fan to cool herself; for the Vapours of her imagination heightened by the presence of our Great Prince, were not so easily laid. The Venerable Apostle therefore, when the King was gone, began an Amorous Consolation, vowing and protesting to her whatever Love could inspire into him. On the other side the Queen a thousand times assured him with her usual Address, that she lovd him better than herself; which satisfied the Prelate, who pretended that all the Affection of a Woman was due to him, since Nature had bequeathed him the choicest of her Gifts.  
Their Discourse was intermixed, for that between whiles they talked of the Affairs of England, and of King James' Return, who was then going into Ireland, but was to return into France in a short time by the Advice of Tyrconne and Lausun. Here, said the Queen, is a Letter from the Lord Killmallock, which gives me an account of the Death of the Sieur de St. Ruth, a French Officer and very Valiant, who was slain in the heat of the Fight. In truth, Madam, said our Protector of the Surbonne, the loss of such a Worthy Officer as the Sieur de St. Ruth, is a very great loss to France. 'Tis very ●rue, replied the Queen, but these are the fruits of War. I long to see the Count of ●a sun; for I have a World of things to say ●o him. Madam, replied Monsieur the Archbishop, I have heard you speak of the E. of Tyrconnel; and I have heard he is an Irish Man. Yes, my Dear, replied the Queen, and of mean Extraction to boot. He same into England young, where he was a Lackey for ten years together, and afterwards met with a Catholic Master, who preferred him to the Duke of York, in the nature of one of his Gentlemen. During which time he did his Lord so many good Services, that he loved him so well as to favour him with his good Will, and to entrust him with some part of his Secrets; so that at last King ●ames thought good to make him Deputy of ●reland, in recompense of his Fidelity. Such ●as the Eash of Tyronnel 's Fortune, which was not a little to be admired. 'tis true, said the Archbishop, that people of mean Extraction rise to the highest degrees of Honour; all things are governed by Luck and Chance— But I think I have heard say, ●hat formerly his Wife had been a very handsome Woman. I'll assure you, Sir, replied ●he Queen, I always took her to be one of the most amiable persons i' the World. First she had a great deal of Wit, she was well-shaped, her Conversation sweet und merry, her Complexion incomparable, with large grey Eyes and very passionate; and then she deserved the Affection of an Honest Gentleman for the sake of her Devotion, which was extraordinary in a Woman bred as she was in the pleasures of the World. The King of France was not insensible of her Charms, continued the Queen smiling; I know in good part, that the King fell in Love with her, and the King, my Husband, would have been dabbling, finding her worthy of his Affection; which made me Marry her to Tyrconnel sooner than I would have done, on purpose to break off that Familiarity which did not a little trouble me. But since that, we have been very good Friends, and if Heaven had prospered our designs, we had been inseparable. But no more of this mournful Recital, it would carry me too far. With all my heart, answered our Metropolitan Pontiff, embracing her tenderly, telling her withal, that King James had no true reason to Love any Woman i'the World to the prejudice of such an Amiable Princess as herself. Ah! My Dear, replied the Queen smiling, Men natureally love change, though they can give no reason for it. If the Duchess of G— n would have listened to my dear Husband, she had been one of his Mistresses; but she had more Virtue. The Queen would have pursued the History of King James' Amours, but that she was prevented by the Duchess' of Orleans and Bourbon, who came to ask her, Wither she would go to the Chapel Royal of vincennes, to hear the Abbot Boileau, who was then a Famous Preacher. She consented, and the Archbishop carried the Ladies in his Coach to the Chapel, and then went Home to give Orders to his Official M. Cheron against the next day, touching the Surbonne. But our Princess, who was prepossessed with the Merits of the Curate of St. Martin, did not think the Abbot Boileau so Eloquent as he was reputed to be, though the Duchess' of Orleans and Bourbon told her several times that they never had heard so brave, nor so learned a Man. For my part, replied the Queen, I look upon him to be too popular, and that he has not Fire enough in his Expressions. I know not that, Madam, answered the Duchess of Orleans, but he is admired by all the World. Oh Madam, said the Queen, had this famous Preacher no more than your Approbation, it were enough to render him happy. The Queen pronounced those words with something of an Air of Derision which no ways pleased the Duchess, wh● some Days after told the King that th● Queen was so proud that it was no wonder she was Dethroned. But the King who had a Kindness for the Queen, mad● it his Business to reconcile the Duchess and her together; so that ever since they have been very good Friends.  
The Dauphin, who still visited the Princess of Turenne privately, by the cunning management of her Squire M● du Mont, who found a way to introduce the Monsieur at a back pair o● Stairs, without any notice taken of him and who has since managed all his Amorous Intrigues with that dexterity, tha● the Court has been kept in sgnorance This Squire advised the Dauphin neve● to visit the Princess till about Ten a● Clock at Night, when her Husband would be at play at the Duchess of Nemours, which Monsieur, who loves secresiy in Love, carefully observed to do; remembering the Custom of one o● the Dukes and Peers of France lately Dead, who hired a House in the stree● Grenelle, the backside of which joined close to a Palace where lived a very pretty Woman, for whose sake, that he might privately enjoy her, he broke a door out of one House into the other; by which means they met as often as they pleased, and no Body the wiser.  
Madam de Turenne, who passionately Loved the Dauphin, stayed for him one Evening in her Chamber with great impatience. At length when the Dauphin came, he found her somewhat melancholy; of which when the Monsieur asked her the reason somewhat surlily, she made answer, That 'twas her Misfortune to have an Amorous Delicacy quite opposite to the Humour and Genius of her Lover. The Dauphin, whom the sport of Hunting renders a little Rustic, and who reserves no great politeness for Ladies, answered her somewhat rudely, as he risen up from her, That Women by their little Tricks, made Love Capricious. Upon which the Princess, understanding the humour of her Gallant, ran to embrace him, saying to him at the same time, Ah, my dear Prince, you have not wherewithal to satisfy a Tender Lover, which words pronounced with an extraordinary passion, made the Dauphin fall a Laughing, who told her that she knew that best. Upon that, the Princess of Turenne perceiving she should never be able to alter the Dauphin's Clownish Disposition, fell a Laughing as well as he: And so that Evening was spent in Toying after the Monsieurs manner, and Monsieur having uttered some agreeable Expression to the Princess, contrary to his Custom, she returned him her Thanks after a very Courtly manner. But at length the night being far spert the two Lovers parted well satisfied the one with the other.  
The Prince of Turenne, who had been playing till it was late at Madam de Nemours, being by that time returned, was desirous to go to Bed; but finding it extremely tumbled, asked his Wife the reason of it, who was at her Wit's end for not having caused it to be made again before her Husband came Home. So that the disorder she was in, confirmed the Prince's Suspicions so much the more; but being come to herself again, she told him, She had been very much troubled with the Headache, and that she had lain down several times to alleviate her pain. 'Tis very well, Madam, replied the Prinee, with a discontented Look, and now you are Cured, I am sick. The Disconsolate Lady, not knowing what else in the World to do, endeavoured by all the most tender Caresses imaginable to recover the Prinee into a good Humour, who for his part little minded his Wife's Gallantries, as being engaged at least in Intrigues so far distinct; and not having any kindness for Mademoiselle de Ventadour, whom he had Married for the Interest of his Family only, as being the greatest Heiress in the Kingdom. For these Reasons he treated his Wife but very roughly, as not having any Tenderness for her, being wholly taken up with the Countess de Rourre, who had lost her Husband in the Battle of Flerus.  
That Lovely Woman had the knack always to obtain an infinite number of Admirers. And all the Sparks of Venus that beheld her, burned with a desire to be fettered in her Chains. We have said of the Princess of Turenne that she Loved with a certain Delicacy and Curiosity, which consisted in a thousand little Punctilios. On the other side, the Countess de Rourre little cared whether a Man Loved her or no, so she could divertise herself, and provided her Lovers sent her Magnificent Presents, she left them the Liberty to change as often as they pleased, reserving also the same liberty to herself. And therefore it may be said, That this Lady was a professed Coquet: But notwithstanding this same Coquettry, the Dauphin allowed her a share of his Favours as well as the Princess of Turenne, and many others. But this not being to my purpose, I shall say no more of it but only thus much, That her Carriage being none of the Modestest, nor so Discreet as it should be, vexed the very Soul of the Count her Husband, who would frequently Curse the fatal Day that had joined him to that sickle Vvagtail.  
The Dauphin, who after the Death of her Husband, had given the Countess du Rourre a very fair House near St. Honore's Gate, went frequently to visit her, and diligently waited on her, as one of the most Amiable of his Mistresses. On the other side, that Charming Lady made use of all her Artifices, her Amorous Dalliances and Tender Caresses, to preserve a Heart which had no great Inclination to Love, as being more affected with sporting in the Woods than between the Sheets.  
'Tis the Nature of Coquetts to force their Humour to a Compliance with that of their Lovers: For by that means they always keep a good Correspondence with them. So that the Dauphin who had not those winning satisfactions that season the Ragoo's of Love, could not forbear the having an infinite Tenderness for that Lady. One Day that she was in her Cabinet, and that she was sensible of a more than usual tenderness, her Illustrious Lover came in, to whom she said not a word. At what time Monsieur admiring at the silence of his Incomparable Minioness, demanded the reason, and at the same time gave her a tender Kiss. Ah! My dear Prince, replied she with a sign, I was mustering up all my Good Luck, and that great Idea deprived me of my Speech. Madam, answered the Monsieur, that defect is hereditary to your Ladyship, because you are half a Norman. My dear Prince, said the Countess, you take me one way, and I mean another: For my meaning was, that I was so Charmed with being never so little beloved by so great a Prince, that at that very moment I had lost the ordinary use of my Tongue. I understand ye, Madam, replied the Prince with a smile, but by those words, never so little, you seem to mistrust that I am not wholly at your Service. This is an injustice done to my sincere Love, and the real Affection I have for ye.  
Upon that the Countess risen from her Seat, and went to embrace her dear Lover who is extremely pleased when a Woman that has a Kindness for him prevents him with some little Addresses I know not what they did more; but believe that in all probability Lover was not satisfied with only bare Expressions.  
However it were, our Queen in Tribulation, who could not long endure the Absence of Monsieur the Curate, sent for him by one of her Gentlemen, under pretence that her little Prince of Wales was sick, and that she was extremely afflicted for fear of losing a dear Child, upon whose Life all her Hopes depended. Now the Curate either out of Respect, or for some other Reasons, durst not so frequently visit his Princess, so that the Priest was over joyed to find himself sent for. To which purpose he called to his Remembrance all the pleasures he had tasted in the Enjoyment of so Adorable a person, and the good Fortune which he hoped to reap from his good Service. All these great Ideas made the Lover to go up into his Chamber, where he rubbed himself from Head to Foot with Essence of Jassemine, scoured his Hands with Past of Almonds to make 'em feel smooth, and powdered his Hair more than he was wont to do; and after he had thus tricked and spruced himself up, he went to visit the Queen about Six a Clock in the Evening. For at that Hour she sent him word she should be alone, because her Court would be at the Opera, or at other Divertisements of the Carneval Season.  
Monsieur the Curate found his Charming Mistress and the little Prince's Nurse bemoaning the Illustrious Infant, and scared at the thoughts of his Death Oh, said the Afflicted Princess, must I lose the only Blessing that is left me in this World! St. Winifred, accept my Offerings and hear my Vows, and sanctify the Prayers which I make to thee, Divine Queen of Heaven.  
During this Ejaculation, the Queen cast an Eye upon her Gallant, then upon his Knees, that he might participate in the Devotion of the Frincess, who at the same time took him by the Hand and led him into her Chamber. There she asked him his Advice about the sick Prince, and what he thought of his Distemper. To which the Curate answered after he had put her in hpes, that if he should happen to Die, it was a Loss that might be repaired, since her Majesty's Youth could not want Heirs to her Husband's Throne. Those words re-cheard the Queen's Heart, who seemed to be quite cast down; and at the same time giving the Curate an Amorous Grasp by the Hand, she pulled him to her and made him write upon her Altar the Prophetic Terms he had made use of to let her understand the Fertility of her Arable Ground. After which she thanked him very civility, telling him withal, that if all Men did but resemble him in Piety and Natural strength, Soldiers would not be so scarce in France as they were. I assure ye, said the Princess, I was in a Disconsolate Condition before you came; but you have given me as much Comfort as it is possible for me to receive. Persons Sanctified to that degree as you are, have something extraordinary above other Men. I must confess, I find 'em a thousand times more engaging than your Court Minions who boast their fine Compliments to the Ladies, but have no other Merit but that frivolous Excellency to commend 'em. Alas— Madam, replied Monsieur the Curate, with a great deal of Humility, we poor Abbots know not what Courtship is; there is nothing in our Breviaries that tells us how to please Ladies. No matter, replied the Queen, with a passionate utterance, Nature that acts alone in you, is worth all the chicest and most Courtly Manner of forced Ability. In a word, Madam, cried out the Transported Lover, embracing the Knees of his Goddess, I may account myself the most fortunate among men, since I see myself so highly esteemed by the most Adorable Queen in the World. Let us have no Complaints, my Dear, replied the Princess, interrupting him, her Eyes all sparkling with Love, they are now quite out of season. Let us make the best of the precious minutes that are left us; let us lose no time, but employ all in confirming to each other the mutual pledges of our Love.  
The words were hardly out of her Mouth, when the Marchioness of P—s came to give her notice that King James was returned out of Ireland and come to Paris, and that he was gone to the Convent of the Reverend Fathers the Jesuits. The Tidings caused the Sanctify'd Gallant forthwith to Decamp, who was afraid of nothing so much as to be taken Tardy in an Amorous Familiarity.  
King James, who was at his Wit's end to see himself so coarsely handled by Fortune, and hopeless of ever reascending his Throne, was so cast down, that nothing could comfort him. So that he was no sooner arrived, but he ran first of all to the Jesuits to tell the Lamentable story of his Misfortune to Father La Chaise his faithful Friend. So soon as the Distressed Prince beheld the Reverend Father, he cried out in a Lamentable Tone. Ah— Father— I am lost beyond Recovery; Ireland is totally reduced, and my Enemies are Victorious. The whole sacred Society of Jesuits, did all they could to cheer up the poor Prince, who wept bitterly, and told 'em how King William had passed the Boine and Routed his Army, and how he had afterwards made himself Master of Drogheda, Dundalk, Dublin, Waterford and Duncannon— All's lost, continued the King sighing, every thing opposes my good Fortune, and my Stars shower down their most Cruel Influences von me.  
Upon this the Reverend Fathers Lafoy Chaise and Gerard carried King James to the Fauxburg St. Antoine, to the end they might dispel some part of his grief, and buoy up his Heart with a plentiful Collation. Monsieur the Archbishop also no sooner heard of his Arrival, but he went to wait upon him, making him a thousand Offers of his Service, and telling him, That his Majesty might make use of his Purse as his own, and that he would never forsake him.  
King James returned his thanks with an extraordinary tendrness to the Protector of the Sorbonne, assuring him that whatever kindness he did for him, should be returned him when it lay in his power. Those last words caused the Archbishop to smile at the easiness of that unfortunate Prince, who was the Cully and sport of the World. This Opinion which the Archbishop had of the King, moved him to some pity, so that raising his Voice, Sir, said he, be of good Courage, we shall find a way to secure your Majesty; settle your thoughts a little, and cheer up yourself with us. With that they drank about several times King James' Health, and to all his Friends that should be instrumental toward his Restoration. After which they talked no more of Melancholy stories, but every one spoke of what was most divertising, and most proper to spend the time delightfully and merrily. At length King James perceiving it was something late, took leave of the Reverend Fathers the Jesuits; and the Archbishop carried him to St. Germains in his Coach; which very much surprised the Queen, who could not conceive how they should happen to meet together. The King being thus got Home, was received but very coldly by his Domestics. For they began already to look upon him as a King without a Crown, and as an Unfortunate person; which extremely afflicted him. Our Monarch however dissembled the Contempt which he had of his Cousin; considering it was more Generous rather than augment his Sorrows to divert his Mind with some Courtly Employment, to which King James at first was altogether averse, but then reflecting that all his grieving and lamenting would not regain him his Sceptre, nor the Dominion of his Kingdoms, he banished all his Disturbances from his Thoughts for some time.  
King James went often to Visit Madam Maintenon at St. Cir's, and made her the Confident of his thoughts, and of the Counsel which his Brother had given him to Court some pretty Lady, which made the Marchioness Laugh; however she told him, That the Remedy was none of the worst, and that Women were many times great helps to Men in this Life. Yes, Madam, answered King James, the pleasure of Courting 'em is not to be paralleled to those that have a Contented Mind; but to a person in my Condition, Love is but an Unwelcome Guest. Upon this, the Marchioness, who found she had a favourable Opportunity to revenge herself upon her Rivaless and our Monarch, who had preferred the favour of King James' Consort before hers, and was very sedulous in waiting upon that Princess, told King James, That if he were resolved to undertake an Amorous Heart, she would provide him a Lady, with whom he might spend many a Charming Hour. Madam, said he, I begin, methnks, to feel my imagination somewhat warmed by the story you have told me. But pray tell me, Madam, who this fair Lady is that you would have me male my Addresses to, in this sorrowful Condition of mine. Sir, replied Madam de Maintenon, Nature must reinforce herself, before you can think of any such thing; the Business is not very pressing; besides that, I must have time to work the Mind and Heart of the Charming Lady that I purpose for your Embraces.  
After this pleasant Conversion, King James took his leave of the Marchioness, and returned to St. Germains; where he was no sooner Arrived, but Mrs. Laybady told him, That the Queen had had several Swooning Fits that Day, and that 'twas believed she was with Child. To which the King answered somewhat unadvisedly, That it might well be so, but that he had been a long time Absent. But Mrs. Labady was more discreet: For she presently withdrew without speaking a word. However the Fainting Fits that still disturbed the Queen, very much afflicted her petty Court. And the King, who dissembled his Disquiet, seldom stirred from her. In a word the Queen's Malady left her in a sort time, and all the Physicians, after she had consulted them, concluded, That she was big of two if not of three. A Midwife was also sent for, who confirmed the same, which filled the whole Court with Joy, and France also, that had contributed so much towards it, would needs partake in the Happiness of the two Princes, unfortunate in every thing else. The Venerable Council of Lewis the XIVth's Conscience, were overioy'd at it beyond the Expression of Words. For this second Offspring raised the hopes of all the Jesuitical Assembly. The Reverend Father La Chasse, and several of the Religious Orders, went to Congratulate the Queen upon her Fertility, and the Blessing that Heaven had sent her. Oh— Madam, cried the Holy Father, Courage, you shall Ascend your Throne once more, in despite of all your Enemies. For I find that the Saints have heard our Prayers, particularly St. Vaubons, to whom I addressed a thousand and a thousand Vows, to the end her Girdle might work the same Effect upon you as it has wrought upon so many other Women that tried the virtue of it. In truth Father, replied the Queen, I believe the Blessed Girdle of that Saint, to whom you paid your Vows, did me no harm. For I frequently made use of it, according to your Reverences Advice, with the usual assistance that begets Mankind. In truth, Madam, your Majesty has too much Knowledge, to believe that the Girdle of a Saint only, without the Company of a Man, can beget a Child. Nevertheless, Father, replied the Queen, there are many poor Women, who are firmly of OPinion that they shall certainly be with Child by wearing that Blessed Girdle about their Wastes.  
As for yourself, Madam, replied the Father smiling, you are Cured of that Ridiculous Belief: What a dangerous thing would it be, continued the Father, for Maids to touch St. Vaubon 's Robe, when the single Ribbon which she tied about her Loins, being bound with Devotion about a Woman's Waste, could produce the Head of a Family. After this manner it is, that Pope Clement relates the story in his last Book of the Life of that Saint. Thus it was that Father La Chaise let his Fancy ramble, when Monsieur the Archbishop, who had understood the welcome News as well as the rest, came in. Every Gallant of that Princess was extremely pleased to understand that the Queen was big with Child; for those Illustrious Lovers every one ascribed to themselves the Honour of the prosperous success of their Labours. There was only the Duke of Vandome who swore the most seriously in the World, that he had never dipped his Pen in the Queen Inkhorn. Which became the Sport and Raillery of the Court. The Dauphin also Laughed at it, saying, That 'twas a better Pen than any of the Doctors of the Sorbonne wrote withal; and that in time Fame would spread his Name far and near. The Princesses of Conti, Lislebonne and Saissons sported after the same manner. But that which ceased all these Railleries' was a Pilgrimage which the Queen undertook, wherein King James was also to be concerned together with several other Devout Persons. But he had earnestly desired his Beloved Consort not to carry any Woman with her; for said that pious Prince, Wherever they are there can be no Devotion. Henry III. observed the same Policy, when he walked barefoot to carry his Offerings to any Saint. Wherefore His Majesty was never Accompanied upon those occasions, but by some of his Minions, clad like himself in White Linen, and wearing large Rosaries, of which every Bead was carved like a Deaths Head.  
King James being returned from his Pilgrimage, found himself fully Comforted for the Loss of his Three Kingdoms. I know not whether his Conversation with St. Clotilde had over ruled him wholly to submit to the severe Decree of his Malignant stars, but there was a World of Joy observed to glissen in his Countenance. About the same time it was, that being one day with the Marchioness of Maintenon, the Lady still desirous to revenge herself upon the Queen her Rivaless, took advantage of that lucky tender minute to Talk to him of the Affairs of his Heart; to which the King gave Answers very agreeable. Some days afterwards Madam de Maintenon sent for Mdemoiselle de— to her Chamber, who was the Fair Lady that she designed for the King and no King, a Lady at the same time tenderly beloved by our Great Monarch. So soon as King James saw her, he was Charmed with her Beauty, and all the desires of that poor Prince, that lay, as it were, in a Swoon, revived at the sight of so, Fair an Object; and his Fancy was heated after such a manner, that he had much ado to Recover himself from an Agitation so extraordinary.  
But the Fair Lady, who could not brook with patience the feeble Caresses of that Prince, always contrived some excuse or other, that she might not meet His Majesty; for as she said one day to the Duchess of Nemours, I know not the meaning of Madam de Maintenon, to go about thus to Engage me to a Compliance with King James. One might think, as this Lady order her Affairs, that the Race of Men were at an end. My dear Minion, replied the Duchess with a smile, the Marchioness of Maintenon has her Ends, and you must submit to her. This Answer afforded nothing of Consolation to our Charming Lady, who being at her Wit's end to see herself obliged to Entertain a Familiar Commerce with a Lover already come to his Spectacles, who had more need of Repose and Ease, then of the usual Agitations of Venus, resolved to feign herself sick, that she might rid herself from the frequent Visits of the King of the Bass, and her project took. For the King being Enamoured only by Accident, soon laid asleep his Rapid motions in their proper places.  
However Madam Maintenon, who thought herself in some measure Revenged, for the Inconstancy of her Lover, and the Queen's interloping, was not a little glad that K. James' Amour had made some noise at the Court; and though the Consequences were such as she expected and desired, however she would not seem to be disatisfyed.  
The Queen who understood that 'twas the Marchioness of Maintenon, who had laid that Snare for her Husband, only made here self Sport with it, which nettled the Marchioness not a little. But the Queen who is infinitely Witty and Politic withal, under stood so well how to manage both the Marchioness and our Monarch, that she has all along to outward appearance preserved her Friendship with those Illustrious Persons.  
All this while the Curate of Saint Martin, whom his Modesty had kept silent, tho' he thought ne'er a whit the less, imagined the time of his Absence too long; and therefore so soon as the noise of the Queen's being With-child was quietly over, he went to St. Germains, under pretence of paying his Devoirs to King James, whom he had not seen since his Return out of Ireland. The Queen returned him her Thanks, and in regard the King was not then at Paris, our two Lovers made the Best of his Lucky Absence, by giving each other a thousand Proofs of their Affection. Our Princess made known to her Gallant her great Joy for being big With-child a second time, in hopes that this last Infant would utterly overthrow all the Designs of the wretched Huguenots, who triumphed over her Misfortune. Ah— my Dear, (continued the Princess, kissing her Ecclesiastical Adonis) had King James undertaken an Affair of that Importance as to beget a Child, the Poor Man would have been at a Loss. You cannot imagine how uncapable that Prince is to beget his Like: So that the Marchioness of Maintenon mistook in her Politics to choose out a Mistress for a Man that can hardly make Water: alas— poor Woman, she thought to make me jealous, but she took a wrong Course: I knew too well my Husband's Merits, and that there is ne'er a Girl i'the Town, if she be any thing handsome that will be baffled by such a doting Gallant. But Madam, (replied the Curate) I believe that Lady's Design was to fret and disquiet your Majesty, because she knows that our King has a great Esteem and Honour for you, and usually the Mistresses of Kings are jealous of their Rivalesses. 'Tis a strange thing (replied the Queen) that a Woman of her Age should not be satiated with Love: yet you cannot imagine perhaps how amorous this Antiquated Bigotess is. After she has turned about her Rosary an hour or two, the good Lady goes to caress the King with a thousand Grimaces, which no way suit with a Woman of her Character. In short, she loves Pleasure better than her Life, and when she cannot please herself, she produces others Younger and more Beautiful. This is the Genius of the Abbess of St. Cyr, notwithstanding all her Devotion.  
In truth Madam, I never took that Lady to be so given to the World, or so addicted to Pleasure. However she ought to consider that she is in her wain, and that 'tis time for her to leave off. Ah! Monsieur— (replied the Princess) she has been always a Wanton. A Friend of mine told me since I came to Paris, that when Scarron married her, every body told the Poor Man but of Charity, that he was going to alley himself to the Family of Actaeon, To which the Growthead Aesop replied, that he laughed at wearing Horns, since he was not the only Man i'the World that did so, and that he only took that Fair Damsel to please his Eyes.  
But the Arrival of the Count of Lau. sun, who surprised the Queen, caused 'em to alter their Conversation: for now they talked of nothing but the Affairs of Ireland, and the loss of Limerick. Ah! my dear Cousin, (cried the afflicted Princess) what think ye of my Misfortune? I must confess, Madam, (replied the Count, rubbing his Forehead) I am extremely troubled for all these Misfortunes. There is nothing vexes a General more than to be foiled in his Erterprises. I wish I had never been in Ireland for my Honour's sake. The Count of Tyrconnel and I did all that could be expected from stout Soldiers. But 'tis in vain to toil when Fortune is against us. You have given me a sad Protraiture of our Condition, my dear Cousin, but I had thought that a great Soldier like yourself, had always reserved some Hope: nevertheless, I see that— The Queen could not conclude the rest, because a Torrent of Tears that fell from her Eyes would not suffer her to proceed. Which the Count beholding, and sorry to see her so terribly afflict herself, he took her in his Arms to comfort her, Swearing that he would try the tother 'Bout, and do his Utmost to restore her Majesty to her Throne.  
After the Queen had dried up her Tears, looking upon the Count with a tender Eye, My dear Cousin, (said she) how much am I obliged to your Kindness, for interesting yourself so much in my Concerns. 'Twas you that saved me out of the Hands of my Enemies, as well as the Prince of Wales my little Son. Now that I am big With-Child again, I have still more need of your Assistance, to the end it may be published to the World that this Great Belly of mine is no Fable, as they who bereaved me of my Crown believed and gave out. O Heaven! that knowst the Injustice done me, prosecute my Revenge, and thou Saint Vaubons, who hast given Life to the Infant which I bear, be thou for ever on my side. Prove but thou faithful to me, and I will burn upon thy Altar the largest Tapers I can buy for Money.  
The Count de Lausun, who had heard that the Queen was With-child, Madam, (said he to her with a Smile) I find that you have not been idle in my Absence, and that Love has been your Friend. Oh— Cousin, (replied the Queen with a languishing Air,) deride not an Unfortunate Princess that breathes nothing but Grief; this Production is only the Effect of my Prayers to St. Vaubons. Had ye no humane Assistance? Madam, (said the Count, proceeding still in his Jesting Humour. None at all, (answered the Queen.) Then most certainly, (replied the Count) St. Vaubons must be a Hermaphrodite to get Children alone by herself.  
You do not take the Blessings of Heaven in a right sense, (replied the Queen): Let us find some other Discourse. How did ye like the Irish Ladies, are they as handsome as they are at London?— How many Mistresses had you, during your stay in that Country? Faith— Madam, I was so taken up with the War, that I had no leisure to discern the White from the Brown; besides that I should never court the Irish Ladies— they are so little obliging that they will never make any great Conquests. Then you have been Visiting 'em, Cousin, (replied the Queen, laughing) yet you would make me believe you never minded 'em. I know that Mars and Venus have a great Sympathy together. For which reason it is that Ovid shows us those two Deities surprised in an Amorous Familiarity, and fettered in small Chains that Vulcan had Forged, to cure himself of his jealous Suspicions.  
The Count would have gone on with his Pleasantries in answer to the Queen, when King James arrived. So that after some few Compliments, the King and the Count went together to the Fauxburgh St. Antoin, to confer with the Reverend Father La Chaise. At what time the Holy Father gave King James a Writing, the Contents of which were as follows.  
Francis by the Grace of God, and the Holy Apostolic See, Archbishop of Paris, Duke and Peer of France, Commander of the King's Orders, Protector of the Sorbonne, and Superior of that of Navarr, with the Assistance of our Venerable Brethren, Deans, Canons of the Metropolitan Church, and the Pious Council of Lewis the Great, our Incomparable Monarch, most humbly supplicateth the King and Queen of Great Britain, James II. and Mary d' Este his Illustrious Consort, to consent to the means which we have found out in our Holy Assembly, speedily to restore Their Majesties to their Throne; which is, to publish a Declaration to their English Subjects, therein desiring 'em not to join with King William, with Promise to obtain all their Privileges, and to give full Liberty to the English Religion, to send back all the Foreign Soldiers so soon as he shall be restored to his Throne: to let 'em see also that their manner of dispossessing him, was unjust, by justifying his Conduct; desiring also the Lords of the Kingdom to come to Paris to be present at the Delivery of the Queen, for the Dissipating of all false Reports that ran about upon the Death of his Son, the Prince of Wales, and that the Queen's time expired the 15th. of May, assuring those that should come into France all the Liberty they could desire.  
The King and Queen returned their Hearty Thanks to the Archbishop and all the Holy Society for the Good Counsel they had given. Prayers were also appointed to be made in all the Churches for the Blessing of Heaven upon all King James' Erterprises; and Te Deum was sung beforehand, there being no Question but that Victory would favour him.  
Some days after all this devout Hurly-burly, the Court removed to Marli, to divertise themselves, where the Count Lausun, always Courtly according to his Custom, gave the most magnificent Regale that ever was seen. Balls and Comedies were not omitted for the Ladies to spend their time with pleasure and delight. The next day the Count carried the Queen, together with the Princesses of Conti, d' Espiney, and Soissons, to an Opera, where the Queen, who is a passionate Lover of Music, was charmed with a young Damsel's Voice, who sung the last Airs of Baptist. The Countess of Rourre, who was one of those that went to Marli, was one of the first that returned, that she might have more time to taste the Sweets of her Engagement with the Prince of Turenne. At that time it was, that he was so weak as to Sign a little Note with his Blood to that same Charming Countess, wherein he promised to love her as long as he lived, and never to change. On the other side, Madam de Rourre appeared so charmed with his Promise, that she fling herself about his Neck, and tenderly embraced him, telling him withal, That she would be as faithful to him as her Strength would permit. For you know, my Dear, (continued the Cunning Coquet) that Women, such as I am, are subject to strange Temptations: Nevertheless, I assure ye, I will separate myself from the World, to the end I may give myself up wholly to you. This was then the Opinion of the Fair Countess, who at the same time presented her Illustrious Gallant with her Picture in a little Box, and several other Toys as Pledges of her Love. The Prince also Signed another Note with his blood, that she should never see the Picture again till the Hour of his Death, which fell out to be as he said: for he was Slain at the Battle of Steenkirk.  
By this time the Queen being delivered, infused a general Joy into all the Court for the Birth of a second Child. Our Pious Monarch had desired the Duchess of Orleans his Sister-in-Law to be Godmother. But by Misfortune that Princess who had a great Desire to have been at the Queen's Labour, came too late, tho' she set forth from St. Clou, with all speed that might be. However every Body congratulated King James for his good Fortune: and several Ladies of Great Quality always stayed in the Queen's Chamber, by Lewis the Great's Order, who tenderly loved the Princess, and took delight in thinking that by his Tillage she had produced so fair a Crop. And indeed this Infant was composed of several Essences; which in time will give it a most Admirable Odour in the World, and be a means to perpetuate his Memory. Monsieur the Archbishop made frequent Visits to the Queen, during her Lying-in, particularly to give her his Benediction, and make her some other Presents of things necessary for the Support of Life. Telling her withal, to divertise her, That he had ordered to be carried to his Countryhouse, upon the Road from Charenton to Conflans, several sorts of Liquor fit to be presented to the Table of the Gods. Among the rest a certain Brewage which the Archbishop had caused to be made at Paris; but I know not the Composition. 'Tis sufficient to let ye understand, that the Queen and several other Ladies, sometimes took a little too much of this Nectar, when they went to visit our Apostolic; which caused 'em to sleep very contentedly in the Arms of that Illustrious Gallant, who frequently laid aside his Violet Cassock to put on the Habit of Madam President Bretonvilliers, whom he had loved above all his Mistresses together. But in regard that Time is a Thing that cannot be stopped, Age had worn away the Allurements of that Fair Lady. Which was the Reason that Monsieur the Archbishop had a little neglected her for more Youthful Playfellows, and which were better worth his Trouble. The Abbess of Monmatry also had the same Destiny, because her Nuns that were in the Spring of their Years, far more delightfully charmed the Venerable Prelate. For which reason he had always some particular Benediction to bestow upon those Pious Damsels, who devoutly returned him Thanks out of a Religious Motive of Gratitude.  
The Report that was spread about Paris of the Descent that King William designed to make into France, set all Tongues a talking of nothing so much as of setting forth a Great Fleet for King James. For which reason Four hundred Vessels were stopped to carry Twelve thousand Soldiers, as well Horse as Foot, in defence of our Unfortunate Prince: and this Fleet was to be guarded by Twelve Men of War, under the Command of the Duke d' Estrees, who had 'em ready fitted out at Toulonne. In the mean time King James, who arrived at the Hogue the 29th. of April, began to embark his Men: but by reason of the Bad Wether which opposed his Designs, they proved abortive to his great Sorrow. Which obliged him to write a Letter to all the English Soldiers and Seamen, wherein he promised several Recompenses, if they would be faithful to him, as also to maintain 'em in their Employments, with a great Number of Fair Words of the same Nature. But no body came to take his part, so that the poor Prince, unhappy in every thing he undertakes, was constrained to return with Ignominy to Paris, after he had waited a long time at La Hogue for a Wind, that would not blow him one King Blast, notwithstanding all his Vows and Prayers to St. Barbe, who is the Protector of the Seamen, when they devoutly recommend themselves to him for Succour. I know not whether King James prayed with a Faith strong enough; but certain it is, the dogged Saint would by no means hearken to the Cries of his Suppliant at that time. This was a terrible Blow to the Court of France, and a Heart-breaking to the Pious Society of the Reverend Fathers of the Company of Jesus. Every one in particular wished a thousand Mischiefs to the Huguenots and their King: and the Jesuitical Cabal plunged in despair to see that Fortune turned her Back upon 'em, laid several Criminal Designs well known to all the World, which came to nothing. The Queen, who was got abroad again, appeared every where with a Pensive Countenance, and took no pleasure in any thing. She was always at the Convent of Mercy in the Fauxburgh St. , with Madam the Princess of Carignan a devout Old Woman that eat up her Saints Images with Kissing 'em, and wore out the Lineaments of their Faces with continual rubbing and cleaning 'em. But the Queen, perceiving the Extraordinary Piety of this Reverend Piece of Antiquity, could not long agree with her Humour. Those Pleasures to which our Princess was by Nature prone, returned every Moment to her Remembrance; maugre all these Misfortunes, her Lovers were always welcome to her, and her deep Affection caused her to forget the Fatality of her Star. For which reason it was, that when our tenderly enamoured Princess did not see her dear Curate, she would say to herself, that he knew not how to make his best Advantage of the most sensible Passion in the World; and that of all Pleasures, that of being reciprocally beloved was the sweetest. Just at the time when the Queen was in this Trance, so favourable to Love it was, that Lewis the Great found her in her Cabinet leaning upon the Table, with her Eyes half shut, and in such a Careless Dress as showed that the Amorous Caresses of one of her Gallants would not have been displeasing to her: so that our Monarch took his Advantage of the Shepherd's Hour, nor did the Queen oppose him but very weakly. All she said to him, giving him a wishful Look, was only this, Oh Sir, you wound me. In which part, Madam, (cried the King, altogether surprised) I should be mightily concerned if any thing but Good should befall ye by my means. 'Tis my Heart, dear Prince, which you have so sensibly touched, that makes me Sigh. I always touch Ladies (replied his Majesty laughing) in the most sensible Parts.  
The Queen was about to speak, when she was in a strange Surprise to see Madam de Maintenon come into her Chamber, the Door of which by Misfortune was left open. But if the Queen were surprised, the Marchioness was no less astonished to see the King lying upon the Queen's Bed by her side, and that in none of the modestest Postures neither, which made her start two Steps backward. Sancta Maria, cried our Abbess, (lifting up her Eyes to Heaven) what Sight is this I see! Oh Sir, Human Frailty always overrules you, and you will never be wise for your Health— You know the wrong you do that little strength that is left ye by making Attempts beyond your Power. The King who lay still upon the Bed, not being able to recover himself from the Surprise he was in to hear the Reproaches of the Marchioness, which at the same time discovered to the Queen his Majesty's inability to undertake the Combats of Love, at length answered the Marchioness very rudely, That she was too bold to reprove him like a Child; that he was King and able to govern himself— and then looking upon her with a Frown of Contempt— Be gone (said he) you will extremely oblige me. Upon which Madam de Maintenon made a low Curtsy, and retired out of the Room. The Queen who feigned herself asleep all this while, and as if she had heard nothing before her Rivaless, so soon as she was gone, I am lost for ever, (said she to the King) this Lady has discovered our Familiarity, and she will ruin my Reputation if she can. She dares not (replied the King) she is too great a Politician to prefer the Pleasure of her Revenge before her Fortune in this World: rest yourself content for that: I am Master of my own Will, and I will love whom I please. In the mean time Sir, (replied the Princess) I am deeply concerned for one thing. How could this jealous Woman divine that Your Majesty was here? I must confess indeed that Love has a Piercing Eye, when it lodges in the Heart of an Old Woman, and who is not only concerned, but jealous to the highest degree. Talk no more of it (said our Monarch, embracing his divine Mistress) all will go well.  
So soon as the King had taken his leave of the Queen, he returned to Versailles, where he was a long time without seeing Madam de Maintenon, who kept her Station at St. Cyr, during her Exile, not being able to recover herself from the harsh Expressions which the King had made use of to let her understand how much he was displeased. But at length, having considered the Condition of her Affairs, and the Propensities of her Heart, Oh— (said she to herself) how weak is a Woman when she is in Love! but yet the Conquest of a King is a Precious Thing which any prudent Woman would study to preserve. Immediately therefore she went to the King, who was then alone in his Chamber, and walking in a melancholy posture. Presently the Marchioness threw herself at his Knees and begged his Pardon. The King, who is the greatest Courtier living, could not endure to see a Woman, whom he had vehemently loved, so submissive at his Feet; so that he took her by the Hand and raised her up, saying to her no more than this; I am convinced of your Sincerity; but be more discreet for the future. Oh— Sir, (replied Madam de Maintenon) I am guilty, because it is your Majesty's Pleasure I should be so. 'Tis true that I opposed your Pleasures, but it was because I was too zealous for your Good, that I have brought upon me your Displeasure. But the King, who was unwilling to rip up old Stories, fell upon other Discourse, and asked her what News of the Princess of Conti whom he had not seen for some Days.  
The Marchioness, after she had given a full Account of what he demanded from her, returned to St. Cyr; where she was no sooner arrived, but King James, who was quite tired out with musing upon his Misfortunes, came to give her a Visit. Nor was Madam de Maintenon at all disturbed to see him. For in regard she had a Secret Intrigue with him, she made no Scruple to tell him the whole Story of the King, and the Queen his Wife; which very much surprised King James. But after the Marchioness had entrusted him with this Secret, and made him understand the Danger of making a Noise of it, which was not convenient for a Hundred Reasons of Policy, Sir, (said she to him) dissemble the Wrong your Wife does ye, and Revenge yourself by paying her in the same Coin. You acknowledged to me, That the last Engagement you had, would have diverted ye with a thousand Pleasures, if the Fair Lady that you loved would but have answered your Passion: but there is no always ill Success in the Fortune of Love; there is sometimes a Calm in Cupid's Empire, as there is Peace and Tranquillity in other Dominions of the World. I have one of my Girls which I intent to discard, because she gins to be a little wantonly inclined, and for that she is too easy in her Love of Men, which is not proper for Saint Cyr, where we must have nothing but Good Instructions and Good Examples for the Youth that are under my Care. It may be said in Praise of this Damsel, tho' she have this failing, that she is one of the most amiable Girls in the World. She has lovely Eyes well enchased, an Admirable Complexion, a little Mouth, Teeth whiter than Ivory, her Neck well built, and a Curious Shape; she is neither too tall nor too short: in a Word, she has all to satisfy the most curious Eye. For which reason the Count of St. Manre always called her his Delight; nor do I believe that the Dauphin hates her; which is a Thing I cannot suffer; for I do not like it, that he should thrust his Nose into my Business; besides that we have not been Cater-Cousins ever since I said, that the Princess of Turenne and the Countess of Rourre were a couple of Coquets.  
Well, Madam, (said the King, interrupting her) if I should address myself to the Lady you speak of, what likelihood of Success for me, since those brisker Sparks enjoy her. Oh— Sir, you go too fast, they have not had the handling of her yet; for I verily believe this pretty Girl has her Maidenhead still, tho' to her Sorrow. You will oblige me therefore to crop those early Flowers. For by that means shall I revenge myself of the Queen your Wife, and upon the Dauphin, who gins to relish Kissing of Women.  
I am of your Opinion, (replied the King, laughing) I believe he will become more gentle and civilised among the Ladies. Come, come, (replied the Mardchioness) I believe him as sensible of Love as other Men, only he loves Privacy in his Amours, he does not publish 'em by Sound of Trumpet in the City, like Lewis the Great, when he makes any new Discovery. I remember when he was a Young Man, and in Love with the Tapstery Weaver's Daughter of Versailles, and the Fair Madelon Denis, who was also the Daughter of a Well-digger of the same Place, he never cared that any Body should know he went to visit his Mistresses, and if any Body that knew him, surprised him in their Houses, he was gone presently, making as if he only came to look upon their Work. I believe, Madam, all that you say of the Dauphin, (replied the King) but 'tis true that the Count of St. Maure frequently visits Mademoiselle de Broisy, our Charming Picardin. That's nothing, Sir, there is no Danger, (replied the Marchioness, that Spark of Venus never visits her but by Night; his Amour is Nocturnal, of the same Nature as the wooing of Cats, that Court one another upon the Tiles by the light of the Moon; provided you make your Visits in the Daytime, you will never be interrupted with the sight of him. For this same pretty Minion of the Dauphin's observes all his Methods. The King of Albion having quitted Madam de Maintenon, went the next day, after he had spruced himself up, to see Mademoiselle de Broisy, who had left the Marquis' Convent and lived with an old Aunt of hers in the Fauxburgh Saint Honorè. So soon as the Young Damsel saw King James, she fell a laughing— Sir, said she— what brings you hither? Surely Madam de Maintenon must have intruded upon your Civility to make you thus the Messenger to deliver her Errands. Not so, Fair One, (replied the King) 'tis only my Desire to kiss your Hands, that makes me pay you this Visit. Sir, (said Mademoiselle de Broisy) I am infinitely obliged to you for the Honour which you do me. After some Compliments, King James would fain have been Caressing her, after the Manner of the Court of France, where they never make any tender Protestations to Ladies, but presently go to the point— which not a little surprised the Lady, who asked him what he intended to be at?— nothing but the sweet Game of Kissing, my Dear Minioness, (replied the King) if you please. Oh Sir, (replied the Young Lady) there are so many Kissers i'the World now adays, that they put me out of Conceit with Love— Recall your wand'ring Affections home again, and cease to tyre yourself with Lustful Desires, which may warm your Imagination, but otherwise expose you to Vexation and Sorrow. Such a dry Answer put King James into such a disorder, that he had not a Word to say for himself. And the Charming Picardin, observing how she had silenced the Poor King, left him with a Smile of Derision, and said no more to him.  
King James, who was troubled at the Ill Success of his Amour, made a faithful recital of it to the Marchioness of Maintenon, who upbraided him that he had neither the Means nor the Art to win a Lady's Affection, which were two things very necessary for a Man, and also very pleasing. The Prince made Answer, That however, he struck the Ladies in the most tender part, and took the most proper way to warm 'em. But continued he with a Sigh, Love is no more favourable to me then Fortune; those two Deities are my declared Enemies, tho' I never offended 'em. Madam de Maintenon put an end to the Discourse by ask the King, whether he would go along with her who was going to visit one of her she Friends, and so they took Coach together.  
The Prince of Turenne, whom we left with the Countess de Rourre, finding the Time drawing near that he was to go to the Army, made frequent Visits to his dear Mistress, as if some forebodings of Death had hinted to him that he should never see her again. And this was that which he told her every day, as she sat upon his Knee. Ha! my Dear, my Adorable, I shall never return more, my Mind and something within me tells me so. Yet all the Reluctancy I have to leave the World is only for thy sake. And so saying, he could not forbear dropping some few Tears, which the Countess wiped away, fondling him with a thousand Caresses— Why should you retain such mournful Thoughts, my dear Prince, (said she) I hope your Better Fortune will bring you back again. 'Tis not that which so much disturbs me, but that which makes my Life happy, your Amiable Presence will be eclipsed for some time from me. How difficult a thing it is to keep those Blessings which we most delight in.  
The Prince of Turenne who saw her somewhat dejeced by what he had said, took her in his Arms to comfort her. Never did Lovers give each other greater Proofs of mutual Affection than they two did; the Days were too short for 'em to taste the Sweets of Love; and therefore they spent whole Nights together without being tired, which rarely happens in Amorous Combats. But our Charming Countess is generally indefatigable in the Sports of Venus; the more she tastes, the more greedy she is. For which important Reason it was, that she always entertained a Crowd of Lovers that were ready to serve her in their turns. Nor do I speak this without good Ground. For so soon as the Prince of Turenne had left her, and given her a thousand Assurances of his Fidelity, some few Hours after, the Dauphin, who came to visit her, spent the remainder of the Day and the next Night with her.  
Her Inconstancy and fickle Humour is well known at Court, and the Princess of Conti was in the Right When she upbraided the Prince of Turenne for his want of Niceness in adhering so steadfastly to a Woman that was so prodigal of her Favours to all Comers and Goers, and who many times unseasonably meets 'em half way. The Princess of Turenne is not a Woman of this Character; for she never cares to pester herself with many Sighers at a time; and 'tis said that she never loved any Body so tenderly as the Dauphin who had not the same Sentiments for her. What a folly 'tis for a Lady to love by herself? In a Man that weakness is to be pardoned, because he is more capable of Love then Women, who ought always to be the last and much more Circumspect in setting their Affections: for nothing is more dangerous then to embark in an Amour. Alas! 'tis a common thing to Shipwreck in the Port of Hope, when we think ourselves in safety: the surest way therefore is to love but slightly, and without Vehemency of Attachment. What probability is there (said the Fugitive Queen some time since to the Princess of Conti, who condemned Violent Passions) for a Woman to preserve her Heart for Indifferency, which is the Winter of Love. Oh, Madam, (replied the Queen singing the following Lines, 
When Tenderness moves, in vain we pretend  
To say where the tender Engagement will end;  
When first an Amour is but newly begun,  
'Tis unknown what 'twill cost us at the long run.  
Alas! for my Heart, it had still retained Its Primitive Innocence,  
Had it growing Desire quite banished from thence  
And a Stranger to Love remained.   
'Tis true, (continued the Queen) an Engagement sometimes cost us very dear; but how shall we pass away our Youth without a little Love. That Passion is all the Pleasure of Life; and the Days seem long without a little Employment for the Heart, which delightfully spends our time. Monsieur the Archbishop, who overheard all the Lady's discourse at the Door, fell into a loud Laughter, which made the Princess of Conti rise from her Seat to see who was there; but she was strangely surprised when she beheld the Illustrious Prelate. Thereupon they changed their Subject, and fell to talk of Piety; which the Queen did onpurpose, to the end they might not suspect her Intrigue with the Roman Doctor; but 'twas in vain for her to play the Hypocrite; for her wistful Looks declared the Contrary. Besides that the Princess of Conti has too quick a Wit, to be ignorant of the Queen of Qlbion's Gallantries. The Queen also herself observed that there was an Eye upon her; which made her leave the Company sooner than otherwise she would have done; then which there could have been nothing more favourable to the sanctify'd Prelate, who desired above all things an Opportunity to make known to her Majesty the Excess of his Love. The Queen, who still dissembled at her usual rate, feigned that all the Caresses of her Lover were most acceptable to her, and that she preferred 'em before all others; which greatly augmented the Prelate's Delight, believing himself the most fortunate of Men, in possessing the Heart of so amiable a Princess entirely to himself. But Men are frequently deceived in their Hopes, particularly about Matters of Love, which promises more Felicity than it has in store, and fills the Thoughts of those that Love with a thousand airy Blessings. Thus it was that Monsieur the Archbishop flattered his Passion, in caressing the Queen, who assured him on her part, That she would be faithful to him as long as she lived, and that she could never love any other but himself, for Reasons that her Majesty could not express.  
All these tender Protestations being at an end, the Archbishop took his leave of the Queen, and went with his Official to meet the Bishop of Meaux at the House of one of the Precedents, who lived at Lisle Notredam. After he had discoursed of Public Affairs, and of the Decrees which our Monarch had issued forth, the two Prelates went to recreate themselves at Conflans about a small League from Paris, where they drank so much of the Archbishop's good Wine, that it warmed the devout Friends of Bacchus to that degree, as to tell what Favours they had received from their Mistresses, which put them upon relating several pleasant Stories that held 'em a long time. The Bishop of Meaux drank the Queen's Health smiling upon the Archbishop, who pledged the Company very courteously, telling 'em withal, That nothing was more acceptable to him, then to hear 'em talk of that Princess, in whom he had observed an Extraordinary Merit, and that Fortune was not just to abandon her Cause. What you say is true Sir, (said the Precedent) but we are not always rewarded according to our Deserts; wherefore your Artists paint that Deity Blind. Upon that, the Bishop of Meaux could not forbear desiring his Friends to drink a good Health to the Archbishop's Inclinations, naming no Body. But in regard the Conquests that Love makes, can be no more concealed than Fire itself, every Body knew that Fair Ladies took up the greatest part of that Illustrious Prelate's time. The Precedent, laughing at the same time, said that Madam de Bourneville had a great Share in the Joy that appeared in the Bishop of Meauxes Countenance. Nor did that Prelate much gainsay it; quite the contrary, with a Courtly Air he confessed that he was as sensible of the Charms of handsome Ladies as another Man, and that his Character could not mortify his Passions, and that the Prohibitions of the Church forbidding Matrimony, and the touching any Woman, did but corroborate the Propensity of Men to that Sex. Every Body applauded the Bishop's Opinion, which was maintained for Truth by several Glasses of Wine which they drank off, and then threw over their Shoulders in honour of the Ladies. Never was so much Incense offered to Bacchus and Venus as that Day, which seemed to be one of their Festivals. After this Debauch was at an end, which lasted a day or two, the Pious Fathers of the Roman Catholic Church returned to Paris more serious than ever.  
King James whom the bad Condition of his Affairs had cast into a deep Melancholy, and who knew not how to employ himself to dissipate his Trouble, and to divert the mournful Ideas that crowded his Thoughts for the Loss of his Crown; spent his time in a thousand Trifles. Amongst the rest, he very frequently went to see his Son, the Little Prince of Wales, to dandle him, and hear his Prittleprattle, which was very Extra-ordinary, considering his Years. Mademoiselle de Bordage, a French Woman, who was placed about him to teach him the Language, and to govern him in the Absence of his Tutor, always made a faithful Relation of the hopeful Parts of the Young Prince, which made the King often laugh at her manner of Expressing herself. But as it is impossible to avoid loving handsome Persons, nor to let 'em understand as much, King James resolved to make a Trial of his Skill, maugre his unwillingness to do it. For the Poor Prince had so ill succeeded in his Amours, as well as in every thing else, that he durst not attempt the making of tender and amorous Declarations. Nevertheless the Posture of his Affairs required it, to the end he might dispel the Troubles of his Mind, as we have said already.  
One day, this solitary Prince said sighing to Madam Bordage, That he was the most unfortunate of Men in all his Undertake, and that he never prospered in any thing, which reduced him sometimes to that Despair, that Death itself would have been welcome to him. And indeed the King had no great Reason to take any Pleasure in this Life; for every Body looked upon him with Contempt since his Fatal Fall. Mrs. Bordage seemed to be compassionately moved with the King's bemoaning his Affliction to her; so that she endeavoured to comfort him up the best she could. Wherein King James observed a great deal of good Nature, and thanked her for her being so much concerned in his Troubles. His Majesty spent some time in Acknowledgement which grw up to Love, and which he kept secret in his Heart, without speaking a Word for above six Months. But in regard that Passion cannot last long without bursting forth, the King, who was troubled with concealing it longer, resolved to speak of it to her that had given it Birth and Growth: but still in dubious and far-fetched Expressions, only to sound the Lady's Intentions. The Fair Lady, who thought the King was talking to her of some Advantageous Match, showed herself nothing Squeamish in her Answers. Which confirmed our Amorous Prince in his Hopes. For which reason, he urged her one day to tell him, Whether she could tenderly Love an Honest Gentleman who should think himself happy to please her. Sir, (said she) I know not what to say, you puzzle me with your Proposal, for I would willingly see the Person you propound. You know, Sir, (continued she) that we must have a Sight of the Objects before we fix our Love, that we may have some Foundation for our Passion. 'Tis very certain, Madam, (replied King James) but true Lovers are still afraid of being favourably heard; and therefore they are not so forward to declare themselves at first. If this Person you speak of, Sir, be a Person of Merit, for any thing else, you need not fear his being beloved. That Conceit of Madam Bordage's made the King laugh, who replied, I find, Madam, that you love handsome Young Men that have a great Deal of Wit. Yes, Sir, (answered she) I have always had a Kindness for deserving Gentlemen. The King, perceiving this Lady would never love a Person who had so little to recommend him as he had, she athed up his Compliments, without saying any more, leaving the rest to Fortune; tho' there is no great likelihood that she will ever be kind to that miserable Prince.  
The Curate of St. Martin, who had not seen his divine Queen in some time, went to the Convent of Mercy to visit one of his Kinswomen, with a design to meet the Queen there, who frequently went to visit the Princesses of Soissons, both Prisoners in that place. But so soon as the Curate saw her Majesty, he changed Colour, and seemed to be abashed, which the Company well observed, tho' they thought him only dashed out of Countenance by the Queen's Presence. But they were quite other Motions which caused that Disturbance in our Illustrious Gallant. His Love for that Princess put him sometimes into strange Disorders, which however he took great Care to conceal. But the Queen, who was not so scrupulous, chid him frequently for so doing, tho' he begged her still to dissemble their Intrigue as much as she could.  
After they had been for some time at the Convent, and talked of several Pleasant and Witty Things, the Queen took her leave of the sorrowful Sisters, and went to take a Promenade in her Coach with the Curate of St. Martin, as also to make two or three Visits, which by no means pleased the Abbot, who loved privacy in Sinning, and who would have liked it much better to have been Head to Head with his Princess in her Chamber. However Good Manners would not permit him to leave her, and there was no other way but Patience; for he must follow all the Dances the Queen led him.  
At length the Sun beginning to Set, obliged the Queen to return to Saint Germains with her Lover, who was weary of running from Visit to Visit, and seemed to be glad of a little Solitude with his dear Mistress. The Queen therefore desiring him to walk up into her Chamber, lay down upon the Bed with her Soulsaving Curate by her, who several times assured her of his Love, and his Tenderness for her Majesty. To which the Queen embracing him, made answer, That she should have a perpetual Love for him, and that she would never change her Inclination. And their Conversation was still upon the same Subject, when Madam Bordage was sent to give the Queen notice that Supper was read. With that our Lovers somewhat heated with their Amorous Dalliances, took time to cool themselves before they went down. The Curate also would fain have been going home, but the Queen desired him to Sup with her; to which, with much ado He consented. For the poor Curate was always out of Order when he had been caressing the Princess; which put him into a kind of Confusion when he came into Company.  
The Queen observing his Weakness, upbraided him before she left the Chamber. What! (said she) my Dear, such a Novice to be thus out of Heart upon a little Amorous Combat! you will never make a true Soldier of Venus, if you have not more Courage and more Resolution. Come, come, (said the Queen, taking him by the Arm) the Meat is upon the Table, and Supper will grow cold; two or three Glasses of Wine will revive your Strength, and put ye into a better Humour. That said, the Curate could not forbear laughing at the sprightly Gaiety of the Queen. However all the Suppertime, not a Word of any thing but Piety and Devotion, which the Italian Ladies always observe to do, when they are with their Gallants, to persuade the World that they have been doing no Harm, and that their Familiarity goes not so far as Courtship, which requires great Caution. But for all that, they may give Credit to outward Appearances that please; we must needs say that the Fugitive Queen leaves nothing omitted to divertise herself, and to forget her Misfortunes which would every day present to her Eyes a thousand dreadful Ideas, did she not take care to remove 'em from her sight.  
After they had Supped, the Queen retired to her Chamber, where she played at Cards for an Hour or two with her Gallant, who knew the King James was abroad, and that he would not return home by such a Time. Their Discourse all the while was extremely Pleasant and Jocular, and a thousand pleasant Things were discoursed of to pass away the time. The Curate was never in such a brisk Humour as at that Instant, his Eyes sparkling with an Amorous Fire, and the most tender in the World, which extremely pleased his Princess, who was not wanting on her part to supply the Conversation with a thousand Fancies and Witty Jokes that naturally flowed from her, for which reason she is tenderly beloved by those that are intimate with her.  
And now the Night being far spent, the Curate took his leave, after several Adieu's, intermixed with most passionate and sensible Assurances. For the Queen who was weary of Saint Germains, has made a Match with a Lady of her Intimate Acquaintance to spend two or three Months with her at her House about six Leagues from Paris. Which was the Reason that our two Lovers had much ado to part; and tho' the most tender Protestations were made use of, they could not forbear letting fall Tears in abundance, particularly the Curate, whose Soul was very sensible of the Absence of his Beloved, and who suffered the loss of her with an Impatient Grief. As for the Queen, she was more easily rid of her Sorrow, having a large and spacious Heart, which was the Reason that her Melancholy had the more room; besides that she loved several Persons at a time, which divided her several ways, and freed her from any vehement Attachment. And now the Day for her departure being come, the Queen went to take her leave of her Friends, not forgetting the Archbishop to whom she paid a Visit, under pretence of consulting with him about Important Affairs, which infused an extraordinary Joy into the Prelate, who splendidly regaled his Princess. Mean while, the Duchess of Nemours, and the Marchioness of Seignelay, who were of the Knot, waited at her Home with great Impatience, for it was high time to be gone. But the Queen, who was well at ease with her enamoured Piece of Gravity, never thought of her Company; which constrained the Marchioness to send one of her Pages to let the Queen understand that the Marchioness stayed for her. With that the Queen took her leave of her enamoured Father Grizzle, who waited on her in his long Violet Robe to her Coach, tenderly Kissing her Hand at parting.  
So soon as the Ladies saw the Queen, Wemust confess, Madam, (said they with a Smile) that Religious Persons have a great Ascendant over your Majesty, and you are so passionately in Love with the Fathers of the Church, that 'tis a trouble to ye to leave their Company. 'tis true indeed, Ladies, that the Archbishop is the most Complaisant Person in the World. He wants neither Discourse nor Pleasantries to entertain his Guests. Nothing less, Madam, than our Archbishop's Talents can merit your Eestem (replied the Duchess of Nemours.) But let us lose no time— we have a long Journey to Ride. Thereupon the Queen and the rest of the Company, took Coach and left the Town, to the great Grief of their Lovers.  
The next Day the Queen being arrived at Lily with her small Court, Hunting-Matches, Banquets, and a thousand other Country Divertisements, afforded every Day new Supplies of Pleasure. But in regard that Mirth is never perfect without the Masculine Sex, the Ladies, when they saw two or three Cavaliers of their Acquaintance that came to visit 'em, their Pleasures redoubled in seeing the Lords, who corresponded to the Best of their Power with the Lady's Civilities. Among the rest, there was the Chevalier de Soissons, who fell in Love with the Queen's good Humour and her Wit, which she can wind and turn to Sport and Merriment as she pleases. I admire how this Princess could harbour so much Jocundry, considering her Adversities, which would have cast any other but herself into an Abyss of Grief, and caused her for ever to renounce the World. Yet those mournful Ideas make no Impression upon her Majesty. On the other side, the more our Italian is oppressed with Calamity, the more she addicts herself to her Delights.  
The Chevalier de Soissons, who left nothing omitted to second the Inclination of his Princess, supplied her with all the most Charming Pleasures he could invent; and because he knew she was a Passionate Lover of Music, and of whatever was grateful to the Senses, he entertained her with the most Harmonious Symphonies in the World of all sorts of Instruments in the middle of a Forest; after which, there was a Magnificent Collation ready prepared under a Shady Bower: All which Divertisements would have extremely pleased the Queen, had they cost her nothing. But the Chevalier who never did something for nothing, but expected that the Favours of the Princess should reimburse him for his Expenses, never left her, perceiving in her Physiognomy that she was none of the cruelest, and that she loved the Company of Men. Wherein he was not deceived, seeing it was the Queen's weak side. She has also several times confessed, that Love was the thing to which she was most inclined, and which charmed her above any thing in the World. For which reason, Men that admired the Female Sex were always welcome to her. But as for thy last Gallant, the Princess had other measures to take. For the Chevalier de Soissons was the Archbishop's Intimate Crony and his Confident. That Prelate entrusted this Young Spark with all his Secrets, because he was the most discreet and faithful of all that he had honoured with his Friendship.  
All these Considerations kept the Queen's Mind in suspense: she knew not what to do, to satisfy her new Lover, who every day gave her a thousand Proofs of his Affection, and who could not live a Minute absented from her. How shall I dare to trust a Young Man, (said she to herself) who it may be after he has received all the Favours I can bestow upon him, will make it his delight to boast of 'em publicly in the City, as all Persons of his Age commonly do, which would be an Extraordinary Trouble to me, particularly if the Archbishop should know it. How would that Prelate bespatter me with the Reproaches of Faithless and Perfidious, after so many Oaths and Assurances, as I have given him! No Darling of Venus, that solicit me to Infidelity, flatter me no more with your new Charms, since my Duty opposes your Pleasures. Thus the Queen argued with herself at some times, and at others was even ready to surrender to him the most precious Jewel she had, not being able to withstand the Importunate Charms of her Victor. At length, one day that this Princess was alone with the Chevalier, and that she felt her Heart very tender, and not able to resilt a Violent Temptation, she would have gone away from him. But the Chevalier stopped her, tenderly ask her the Reasons why she fled him. I know not, (replied the Queen, with a troubled Countenance) I feel myself so feeble and haunted with an Idea which perplexes me, that I cannot tell how to express it to ye. Ah! Madam, (cried the Chevalier, who knew what it was that troubled the Princess) would I might be so happy as to be able to alleviate your Pains, and lessen your Sorrows. Oh, Sir, (replied the Queen with a mournful Tone) your Presence does but aggravate 'em— how troublesome a thing it is to Love— She stopped at this last Word, which she uttered notwithstanding the Opposition of her Tongue. Her Heart no longer able to dissemble, spoke in despite of her Reluctancy, as usually it happens to Persons that would disguise their Love. But the Chevalier who would not be put off with these little Shilly-shally Tricks, ●hrew himself presently at her Feet, and Kissing her Hands a thousand times, sworn to her, That he loved her better ●hen himself, and that he should be the ●ost unfortunate of Men if she had ●ot Compassion upon him in the Con●ition wherein he was. The Princess, who was as much Embarrassed as her Gallant, said the same thing to him. Never was seen an Amour so languishing, or which raised more Pity: To ●ell ye what they did to comfort themselves, I will not undertake, because I ●now nothing but that the next Eve●ing it was observed that the Queen ●as very Pensive and full of Medita●on, which the Ladies took notice ●f by way of Raillery; telling her, That she had some Reasons for quitting ●eir Company, for that as far they ●ould understand, the Advantage of ●e Promenade had redounded to her, ●nd they had only fared the better for ●er Company. The Queen made no answer to this and a thousand other Petty ●aillieries that were thrown upon Her ●●d the Chevalier, who appeared well satisfied with his Good Fortune, and never regarded what they said. The Duchess of Nemours could not choose but fall a Laughing to see the Queen sit so gravely and soberly, who spoke very little at all that Evening, feigning herself not well.  
The next Morning the Princess, who had reflected upon every thing that passed the Day before, found herself a little more Blithe and Gay. It seems the Night which is the Counsellor of all Men, had given her new Vigour and Joy. Which pleased the Chevalier, who was troubled that his Love had occasioned her Sadness. After this, they went to walk in the Garden to take the Air; at what time the Queen, moving towards a Fountain to behold the Figures that compassed it, and spouted Forth Water into several parts of the Garden, gave the Chevalier an Opportunity to stop likewise, and to declare to his Fair Queen the Condition of his Heart in the most Passionate Terms that might be, ask withal how she had passed away the Night. Sadly enough, (answered she with a Sigh) I am afraid my Weakness for your sake will do me an Injury. How! Madam, (replied the Chevalier) can you mistrust the Fidelity of my Love? After the kind Favours I have received from your Majesty, I should be the most wretched of Mortals, should I betray the most amiable Princess that ever was. These Assurances pacified the Queen's Disturbances, and caused her to return to Paris with a full Tranquillity of Mind, not dreaming that her Young Gallant would have so indiscreetly published the Favours he had received at her Hands.  
However the first thing he did when he saw the Archbishop, was to tell him the whole Story as it had been acted, and that the Queen was very Charitable. Why say you so, Sir, (replied the Prelate smiling) no Body can have too much Compassion for the Miserable. 'Tis very true, Sir, (answered the Chevalier de Soissons, laughing outright) true Charity has no Bounds. The Prelate, in a few Words unfolded the Young Chevalier's Enigma, and immediately went and told it to the Queen, who was at her Wit's end to find herself so basely betrayed. This is your harebrained Fop, (said she to the Sorbonne Doctor) that you value so highly, who is so impertinent to tell the Greatest Lies in the World: his Indiscretion deserves Punishment, a Bruit not worthy the Consideration of such a Person as I am. But I shall tell him his own. This said, the Queen went into her Closet, and in the Heat of her Anger wrote the following Lines.  
The Queen's Letter to the Count of Soissons.  
THings are reported in the World that no Body could know but yourself and I; but I am assured I never published 'em; and this will be easily believed, if you consider the Nature of the Things that are divulged. This vile Report proceeds then only from your Indifcretion. Nevertheless you have the Impudence to make me the Object of your Raillieries, and to give it out That I am very Charitable. Perfidious Man! not content to violate the Oath of Secrecy which you swore to me, but perhaps daring enough to make me False Protestations of your Counterfeit Innocency. But I know ye now; and you shall never triumph more over my Tenderness; I am recovered from my Error, and find you altogether unworthy to enjoy the least Kindness of such a Princess as I am. A Man cannot be indiscreet without being perfidious, as I am sure you are. For which reason I can no longer love ye; my Reason teaches me, that Men love only out of Vanity, and that they act not out of any Principle of Honour. I am obliged to your Infidelity for being so well instructed. Adieu, perfidious Man. Nothing vexes me so much, but that I was so basely deluded by a Traitor.  
I cannot express the Surprise that seized the Chevalier, when he had read this Letter, He that thought to have diverted himself with his Good Fortune. He presently judged it could only come from the Archbishop his good Friend. But in regard that Rivals can never agree, the Prelate who was jealous to the highest pitch, could not endure that any Body should speak reproachfully of the Person that he loved above all others. For that reason he preferred the Princess' Amity before the Chevalier's Friendship, who did but laugh at the Business, and made a hundred Jests and Railleries' upon it. Among the rest this was one of his Lampoons, speaking in the Person of the Woman.  
When we our Favours grant, in Love's hot Fury,  
Men must Discretion use,  
And in th' Eternal Grave of Silence bury,  
What we perhaps could not refuse:  
Disclose not the Secrets of Female Desire,  
'Tis all the Reward that we Women require.  
These Verses did but provoke the Queen, who after her new Gallant had carried himself so indiscreetly, would no longer see any Body familiarly, finding 'em unworthy of her Favours, since they had not the power to keep the Secret, which is the main Act in Gallantry, that a Chevalier ought to observe. For Ladies, whose Inclinations leads 'em to favour their Gallants, are mad when they meet with Infidelity. These are the Important Reasons why the Queen sees no body that belongs to the Court. She now reserves all her Tenderness for the Religious Orders, and the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, who are not so generally subjects to Human Frailties as others. These Reverend Fathers have one Perfection which is not to be met with among secular Courtiers. They dare not publish the Favours they receive from Women, out of a Maxim which is hereditary to their Order. You see by this, what good Reason our Princess had to confine her Love within the Cloisters. This is the way to have no more occasion of repenting for having condescended to the fickleness of the Chevaliers, who cannot sometimes forbear to set upon the Wings of Fame the Kindnesses which they receive from their Mistresses.  
However the Queen, after she had for some time taken up a Resolution to see no Body, began to be weary of it, when Monsieur the Curate came to visit her. The Princess was very glad to see him, and was extremely Civil, giving him an account of her Troubles, and of the Distinction which she made between Him and Others. The Curate far from contradicting her, agreed with her in what she said, and convinced her, that there were no Men i'the World that better understood how to preserve a Secret than the Churchmen. What you say is very true, (answered the Princess) for which reason, I renounce all the Gallantries of the Court, that I may wholly devote myself to you without any Reservation, as a thing that is very necessary; for I cannot shake off the Instigations of my Heart; the time seems tedious to me, when I have not something to Love. I confess, Madam, (replied the Abbot) that there is no Sweetness in Life without a little Love; for the pleasure of Loving is that which seasons all things. Yes, my Dear, (replied the Queen, embracing him) I know there is nothing that lives which can forbear Loving. The most Innocent of Creatures make it appear by their tender Caresses. All Nature loves, and there is nothing created but for Pleasure. Oh, Madam, (cried the Curate) how I am Charmed, that you concur with me in my Sentiments; Let us endeavour to unite ourselves so closely together, that time which wears out the fastest Ligaments may never separate us. You stretch to Immortality, Mr. Abbot (replied the Queen, laughing) you know that we cannot live always, and consequently our Love must have an end; but let us Enjoy the Present time as much as lies in our Power. The Queen pronounced those Words with an Air the most amorous i'the World, which incited her Gallant to push the Opportunity forward. So that his Enamoured Lady throwing herself saintly upon a little Bed made after the Italian Fashion, there is no question to be made but that the Curate and his Princess tasted all the Sweets of their tender Affection. Our Lovers were in the midst of their Dalliances, when Word was brought 'em, that King James was coming up Stairs. I leave you to guests how the Young Abbot was disturbed at this unexpected News. In short, the Queen caused him to resume his first serious Countenance, and his Cloak, and his Prayer-Book in his Hand, making as if he had been studying his Breviary for the Edification of our Princess, who is extremely devout, as your may perceive by her Religious Conduct.  
The King was overjoyed to find his Consort so piously employed. He caressed her with a world of tender Language, and was mighty thankful to the Priest, who acted the Hypocrite and the Saint the best that he could. The whole Conversation rolled upon Piety and Morality. Never had the Queen so great a desire to have laughed outright to see in what an unlucky Figure she had made the poor Unfortunate Husband appear in, who is the most easy Man in the World, for he believes whatever is said to him with the greatest readiness imaginable.  
By this, it growing near Dinnertime, the King invited the Curate, who very modestly excused himself, telling his Majesty, That he had Business of Importance that called him home, and which he could not dispense withal; but that he was infinitely obliged to his Majesty for the Honour which he did him. Come, Mr. Curate, (said the Queen, interrupting him) you want such a world of entreaty— Come, come, the Offers a good Offer, and not to be refused. oh, Madam, (answered the Curate) 'tis my Misfortune, that 'tis not in my Power to enjoy this Offer, but I hope your Majesty will not take it amiss. After several other Compliments, the Queen perceiving that her Invitation did but render her Gallant uneasy, gave him his Liberty, letting him know however by a private Sign, that she would be glad to see him oftener.  
The Abbot, being thus disengaged from King James' Presence, was the most overjoyed Man i'the World, and went home to ponder upon the Kindnesses which he had received from his Incomparable Princess. These Ideas infused a kind of Pride and Vanity into him, which his Acquaintance took notice of. For which reason his Sister Madam de Fontaine upbraided him, that he was grown so haughty ever since his Admission into St. James', that no Body was good enough to keep him Company. You will not always be the Favourite of a Queen, Brother, (said she) the good Fortune that comes from Great People, is as brittle as Glass, which the least fall breaks in pieces. Oh— my dear Sister (replied the Curate) I can never believe, there will be a speedy end of the Caresses of that Princess. Truly Brother (answered his Sister) you are a Man of an Easy Belief, to think that you are the only Man that enjoys the Queen's Favours; she loves all the Hats and Caps she sees; her Love knows no Bounds. The last Adventure she had with the Chevalier de Soissons is no small Stain to her Honour, for that same Lord makes Sport with it to her discredit. If you knew how they talk of her at the Marchioness of Seignelays, you would not have so great a Love and Esteem for her as you have. But Sister (answered the Curate) do you believe all that is said; every body has the Liberty to Chat what they please. The Marchioness lies no less under the lash of Scandal than the Queen. Many times People report a hundred Things of which they know nothing at all, telling a thousand Tales only to pass away the Time. Besides, the greatest People are not exempt from the Tongues of Scandal and Calumny. A Man must set himself above such Trifles, if he intends to live at Ease. Mrs. Fontaine who perceived that her Brother was resolved to go his own way, left him, and went to visit the Marchioness de P— s who was much her Friend out of a Motive of Interest, for that the Marchioness having a Passionate Love for Madam Fontaine, told her every thing she knew. By which means she came to understand a good part of her Brother's Business with the Queen, for that the Marchioness was every Day with that same Amorous Princess, and was the Depository of her Secrets.  
The Marchioness and Madam Fontaine being thus got together, had a long Chat together in English, all upon the Subject of the Queen's Gallantries, and upon the tender Expressions of the Queen, when she is with her dear Curate Little dost thou know, my dear, (said the Marchioness) how happy thy Brother is; the Queen kisses and embraces him a thousand times aday, and talks to him a hundred pretty things, the most endearing in the World. How came ye too know these Circumstances so particularly, Madam, (said Madam de Fontaine laughing) I know these things, my Dear, (said the Marchioness) because I often find 'em together billing like two Pigeons. Oh! cried Mademoiselle de Fontaine, Has my Brother pushed his Fortune so far? 'Tis very well, Mr. Abbot (continued she) I find you are not always at your Books and your Prayers, and that your Conversation is not altogether so Godly as you would make me believe. He were a Fool (replied the Marchioness) if he did not make the Best of the Opportunity which his kind Stars present him. In Sincerity, my dear Child, thy Brother has a Physiognomy that shows him no hater of Ladies, and therefore his Character and Function no way suit with him; besides, dost thou believe he would refuse the Favours which she bestows upon him; no, no— he has more Wit than so. While the Marchioness was thus talking, the Queen entered the Chamber, and asked her if she would go along with her to pay a visit to the Duchess of Orleans. Now Madam P—s loved to accompany the Queen to the Duchess of Orleans, because she would sometimes say, when she was in a good Humour, that she admired that Prince for his Courtly ways above any other Person of the Court, which often made the Queen laugh, who was particularly acquainted with Monsieur the Duke, and would many times say that he had too Effeminate an Air, and was too poor Spirited for a Prince of the Blood. But for all this the Marchioness would be continually speaking in his Praise; and it was observed that her Passion grew stronger and stronger. So that the Queen said to her, laughing, one Day, Ah! my Dear, talk no more of thy Inclination; when thou were't Young, perhaps the Duke might have had some Tenderness for thee; but alas! now, who would mind thee. 'Tis a sad thing when a Woman comes to the Winter of her Age. The Marchioness seemed something mortified by the Queen's Raillery, but modestly replied, 'Tis true, Madam, what you say; however you must acknowledge that Ages does not destroy the Passions: Or if it make some alteration in our Complexions, yet still we are sensible of some Remainders of what we have been. All this while (replied the Queen) I am not arrived as yet at your Years, however I begin already to disgust the Familiarity and Courtship of the World. When I consider, my Dear, (continued the Queen) how little Men in general deserve the Affection of Women, those Ideas set me at an Incredible Enmity with that Inconstant and Fickle Sex, who for the most part only act by Motives of Vanity, or by some other Principle of as little Value. No, no— Men love not now, nor did they ever Love. I have had several Woeful Experiences of it. I find Retirement a thousand times more charming: the Pleasures of Sense make those Impressions that grieve and perplex the Mind; whereas the Delights of Solitude are more sweet and not so liable to Vexations. But Madam, (replied the Marchioness) is it possible for us to spend our Days always in Contemplation and Silence? Somewhat of Motion in Life causes all the Sweetness of it. I have said the same thing as often as thee, my Dear; but I find by Experience, (answered the Queen) that the Motion which charms Thee, is sometimes very dangerous, and that it produces strange Effects. This Conversation was interrupted by the Count of Lausun, who stayed a long time with the Queen to divert her with Variety of Stories.  
But let us return to the Visit which the Queen gave the Duchess of Orleans, where she found a Crowd of Persons of the Highest Quality. They fell to Play all the Afternoon, and then to the Comedy, which happened to be new and very Witty. But all these Pastimes could not dissipate the Queen's Disturbances. Her Thoughts were taken up with the Faithlessness of her Gallants, and the Resolutions she was taking never more to listen to the tender Sentiments of her Heart. She was making an Agreement with her Eyes never more to be sensible of the deceitful Merits of her Adorers. Possessed with these Ideas therefore, the Queen retired home with a world of Coldness and Indifferency, which extremely surprised the Company, who knew her brisk and airy Humour: every one argued after their own Fancies, and what their Thoughts suggested. Only the Duke of Orleans and Madam Maintenon hit upon the true Cause, and publicly declared that her Majesty was resolved no longer to keep Company with Men, because she did not find 'em faithful. Woe is me, (replied the Princess of Conti) how long has the Queen been troubled with this Qualm of Virtuous Sentiments? She was angry with me not long since, because I laughed, and said, that Gallantry was always attended with unlucky Consequences. Madam, (replied the Duke of Vendosm, smiling) when Women cease to have a winning way, and become the Conquest of the first that comes, it behoves 'em often to excuse their Weaknesses; but if Women were wise that desire a Gallant, they would never change when they have the Good Fortune to meet with one that is discreet: but human Frailty is so prevalent in us, that we want Ragoo's to whet our Appetites. The Duke uttered these Words with an Air the most Satirical in the World. Which the Duchess of Orleans having observed, Pray tell me, Sir, (said she) are you always satisfied with one Mistress? and have you never any desire to change? No, Madam, (replied the Duke) were I so happy to enjoy one, I would no more leave her then the Shadow does the Body. Ah! Good Man, (cried the Duchess) what Pity 'tis, that so faithful a Lover as you should want a Mistress. How happy are you, (continued her Royal Highness) that you are in Love with nothing but Honour. Oh! Madam, (replied the Princess of Conti) if I may be thought to know, what Monsieur the Dauphin told me t'other Day, this Dissembler is embarked in a very considerable Engagement. 'Tis Madam de St. Agreement who has now recovered his Appetite; he is all on Fire for that Fair Lady. The Duke blushed to hear the Princess declare so openly without any Reservation, and with a serious Tone, Madam, (said he) where had you all this News? 'tis more than I know myself. The Princess upon that, perceiving that she had disgusted the Duke, turned the Discourse another way. But Monsieur de Vendosme could not for all that, forbear to manifest his Resentment to the Princess, in forbearing to wait upon her as he was wont to do. The next Day the Dauphin reprimanded him; to whom the Duke replied with a serious Air, I entrusted you with the Secret of my Soul, and you go and tell it again to a Lady who has much ado to conceal her own Privacies. I must needs tell ye, Sir, it very much troubled me, and that was the reason I did not wait upon her. Nothing vexes me more than an Amour disclosed. On the other side, if Madam St. Agremont should come to understand that there was the least suspicion of her being gallanted, I must never see her more; which would be the greatest Torment to me in the World, for I am passionately Enamoured. I may say, without any Hyberbole, that she is the most amiable Person that ever was born. Forbear to praise your Mistress, (say the Dauphin) before Persons that may fall in Love with her as well as yourself: Love enters into the Heart as well through the Ears as through the Eyes.  
Oh, Monsieur, (replied the Duke of Vndosme) you are so taken up with your Illustrious Mistresses, that you have not a Minute to spare to cast your Eyes upon others. Be not over confident, (replied the Monsieur) Appearances are deceitful; I love Change as well as you: Adieu, I must leave ye for a Moment. Thus the Monsieur left the Duke of Vendosme, and went to see the Countess of Rourre, whom he had promised to meet at an appointed Rendezvous.  
Let us now return to the Queen, who has now no longer any Inclination to the Gallants of the Court, or if she has, 'tis so indifferent, that she hardly feels herself warmed by it. She is now fully resolved to observe the devout Lessons which the Churchmen inspire into here, and which she finds more pleasing to her Palate, because that this Devotion being well ordered, encloses within it, unknown Mysteries that cover all Appearances of Pleasure and Wantonness. The Convent of Mercy, in the Fauxburg St. Germains, is the Usual Place where the Queen now goes to say her Prayers in the Daytime with the Curate of St. Martin, who accompanies her in her Pious Exercise, and who Preaches sometimes in terms so full of Piety, that his Hearers must be insensible not to be moved with his Religious Oratory. 'Tis by that means, (said the Queen) that this discreet Prelate has found the way to my Heart: Devotion enchants me beyond all things in the World.  
Thus you see what are now the Religious Sentiments of the Fugitive Queen: we ought to believe that her Heart is sincere, and that she is too generous to disguise it. Nevertheless, together with this Devotion she cannot avoid reserving still, so far as I can find, some spare Hours to enjoy the Sweets of a sanctify'd Amour; by virtue of which, the one half of her Sins is pardoned, when they are only committed with the Fathers of the Church, who extenuate the Crimes by their secret and particular Morals. I shall conclude, desiring the Reader to believe me, as one that is pretty well Convinced of the Truth which I have delivered.  
FINIS.