Chapter LXXVI: Letter LXV

VICHI, Wednesday evening, Sept. 22, 1677.

I have just received a letter of the 15th. I fancy it has taken a trip to Paris. The chevalier has received one from the handsome abbé, of the same date, which shows me you were well, at least on that day. It is true that if Vardes had mentioned your illness to me, in terms ever so little stronger than those he used, no consideration would have kept me from you; but he managed so well, that I have no food for uneasiness but what is passed by. I conjure you, my beloved child, to send me word of the return of your health and beauty. I can not dispense with this intelligence, nor can I endure the thoughts of your being less handsome at your age. Do not fancy, therefore, that you can reconcile me to your extreme thinness, which is too plain a proof of your ill state of health: mine is as perfect as it can be. I put an end to-morrow to all my business, and take my last medicine. I have drunk the waters sixteen days, have twice used the pump and the hot-bath; but the pump was too much for me, and I am sorry for it, but it made me too hot and giddy; in short, I had no occasion for it, and drinking the waters was sufficient. I set out on Friday for Langlar. My messmates, Termes, Flamarens, and Jussac, will follow me thither. The chevalier will come to see me on Saturday, and will return on Monday to begin the pump. He will be only a week without me. He will receive in my absence a thousand presents from my friends, and is very well satisfied with me. My hands are better; the inconvenience is so very slight, that I shall use no remedy but time. I am perfectly in despair, my child, at the frightful ideas you entertain. Heavens! is it possible, that in my present state of health, I can do you any injury? It is certainly very much against my inclination if I do. I know not whether it is your intention to write me such admirable passages as you are accustomed to do. You could not possibly fail to succeed in such attempt, and I can assure you they would not be suffered to be forgotten: you are not sensible of the brilliancy of what you say, and so much the better. You have some little inclination to divert yourself at the expense of your humble servant, as well as at her stays and head-dress; but you would certainly have fallen in love with me had you seen the fine figure I cut at the well. I have a notion the Hôtel de Carnavalet will suit us better than the other house we heard of, which is so small that not one of your people could possibly have been accommodated there. We shall see what the great D’Hacqueville will do. I tremble lest Madame de l’Islebonne should take it into her head to stay. I am still very uneasy about Corbinelli; he has been very severely handled by his ague, his delirium, and every thing that is frightful. He takes the potable gold; we shall see what effect it produces.[148] I desire you would still talk to me of yourself and your health. Do you use no method to repair the loss of your two bleedings? Good heavens! what a disorder! and what apprehensions must it give to those who love you! Here come the chevalier and the rest of my old companions, with one who certainly plays a better fiddle than Baptiste. We should be delighted to send you and M. de Grignan a chacone and an echo with which he charms us, and with which you would likewise be charmed. You shall hear him this winter.

[148] The time was at hand when the most pompous names given to
the most complicated mixture, served to vail the ignorance of the
chemists, physicians, and apothecaries, and to increase their
bills. Potable gold was one of those whimsical remedies, of which
muriatic acid was the basis. The solution of gold, which was
added to it, was only used to swell the expense. Powdered pearls
were also sometimes used to make their drugs still dearer. The
severe Guy-Patin had no mercy upon these quacks. He calls them
_Arabian cooks_, and laughs at their _farrago_. He, and some of
his medical friends, prided themselves upon having destroyed this
_colossal extortion_. Their triumph was premature. The cheap
medicines they pretended to have restored, were not at that time
received by people of rank; and it appears that Corbinelli was
treated like a nobleman, whether he would or not.