Chapter CLXXVIII: Letter XIII: GRIGNAN, October 15, 1695

I have just been writing to our Duke and Duchess de Chaulnes; but I excuse you from reading my letters; they are not worth reading. I defy all your emphasis, all your points and commas to produce any good effect, therefore leave them as they are; besides, I have spoken of several little things to our duchess, which are not very entertaining. The best thing you could do for me, my good cousin, would be to send us, by some subtle magic, all the blood, all the vigor, all the health, and all the mirth which you have to spare, to transfuse it into my child’s frame. For these three months she has been afflicted with a species of disorder which is said to be not dangerous, and which I think the most distressing and the most alarming of any. I own to you, my dear cousin, that it destroys me, and that I have not fortitude enough to endure all the bad nights she makes me pass; in short, her last state has been so violent that it was necessary to have recourse to bleeding in the arm; strange remedy, which makes blood to be shed when too much has been shed already; it is burning the taper at both ends; she has told me so, for, in the midst of her weakness and change, nothing can exceed her courage and patience. If we could regain strength, we should soon take the road to Paris; it is what we wish, and then we would present the Marchioness of Grignan to you, with whom you must already begin to be acquainted on the word of the Duke de Chaulnes, who has very gallantly forced open her door, and has drawn a very pleasing likeness of her. Preserve your friendship for us, my dear cousin, however unworthy of it our sorrow may make us; we must love our friends with all their faults; it is a great one to be ill: God grant, my dear friend, that you may escape it. I write to Madame de Coulanges in the same plaintive tone, which will not quit me; for how is it possible not to be as ill in mind as this countess, whom I see daily before my eyes, is in body? Madame de Coulanges is very fortunate in being out of the scrape. It seems to me as if mothers ought not to live long enough to see their daughters in such situations; I respectfully complain of it to Providence.