Is he a man, think you, to be amused forever by sermons, or to spend his days at the feet of a lady of that age, watching her at her tapestry-work, and fondling her poodle, when all the fairest faces and brightest eyes of France are as thick in his _salons_ as the tulips in a Dutch flower-bed?
No, no, it will be the Montespan, or if not she, some younger beauty." "My dear Boileau, I say again that her sun is setting.

Have you not heard the news ?" "Not a word." "Her brother, Monsieur de Vivonne, has been refused the _entre_." "Impossible!" "But it is a fact." "And when ?" "This very morning." "From whom had you it ?" "From De Catinat, the captain of the guard.

He had his orders to bar the way to him." "Ha! then the king does indeed mean mischief.

That is why his brow is so cloudy this morning, then.

By my faith, if the marquise has the spirit with which folk credit her, he may find that it was easier to win her than to slight her." "Ay; the Mortemarts are no easy race to handle." "Well, heaven send him a safe way out of it! But who is this gentleman?
His face is somewhat grimmer than those to which the court is accustomed.