She stepped down and went to the carriage window.

"What are you about, Madame ?" exclaimed Madame de Maintenon; "do not come near us, we are infectious." The king did not embrace her, and she went back to the palace, but only to be at Marly next morning before the king was awake.
The king's tears were as short as they had been abundant.

He lost a son who was fifty years old, the most submissive and most respectful creature in the world, ever in awe of him and obedient to him, gentle and good-natured, a proper man amid all his indolence and stupidity, brave and even brilliant at head of an army.

In 1688, in front of Philipsburg, the soldiers had given him the name of "Louis the Bold." He was full of spirits and always ready, "revelling in the trenches," says Vauban.

The Duke of Montausier, his boyhood's strict governor, had written to him, "Monseigneur, I do not make you my compliments on the capture of Philipsburg; you had a fine army, shells, cannon, and Vauban.