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"Remember, likewise, that the ancient philosopher was rather a bad friend of the gods and the magistrates." "Oh! that is what I will not admit," replied La Fontaine. "Epicurus was like M. Fouquet." "Do not compare him to monsieur le surintendant," said Conrart, in an agitated voice, "or you would accredit the reports which are circulated concerning him and us." "What reports?"
M. Arnaud pretends that I have no logic; I have more than M. Nicolle." "Yes," replied Conrart, "you have logic, but you are a Jansenist." This peroration was hailed with a boisterous shout of laughter; by degrees the promenaders had been attracted by the exclamations of the two disputants around the arbor under which they were arguing.
"Because the hare will be the very one who will not be over pleased to see M. Fouquet surrounded by all the attributes which his parliamentary strength and power confer on him." "Oh! oh!" murmured the poets. "Quo non ascendam," said Conrart, "seems impossible to me, when one is fortunate enough to wear the gown of the procureur-general."
"Take the gown away from the procureur-general," said Conrart, "and we have M. Fouquet left us still, of whom we have no reason to complain; but, as he is no procureur-general without his gown, we agree with M. de la Fontaine and pronounce the gown to be nothing but a bugbear." "Fugiunt risus leporesque," said Loret. "The smiles and the graces," said some one present.
"Remember, likewise, that the ancient philosopher was rather a bad friend of the gods and the magistrates." "Oh! that is what I will not admit," replied La Fontaine. "Epicurus was like M. Fouquet." "Do not compare him to monsieur le surintendant," said Conrart, in an agitated voice, "or you would accredit the reports which are circulating concerning him and us." "What reports?"
Conrart is always telling me that I do not know how to conduct matters of business; you will see how I managed this one." "Well, go on." "'I suppose you know, said I to Vanel, 'that the value of a post such as that which M. Fouquet holds is by no means trifling. "'How much do you imagine it to be? he said. "'M. Fouquet, I know, has refused seventeen hundred thousand francs.
Epicurus never abandoned his pupils; the master is wrong." "Monsieur," said Conrart, "you yourself are in the wrong persisting in decorating yourself with the name of an Epicurean; indeed, nothing here reminds me of the doctrine of the philosopher of Gargetta." "Bah!" said La Fontaine, "is it not written that Epicurus purchased a large garden and lived in it tranquilly with his friends?"
"He was a goose, that fellow Epictetus." "Granted, but he might easily become the fashion by only changing his name into that of Colbert." "Bah!" replied La Fontaine, "that is impossible. Never will you find Colbert in Epictetus." "You are right, I shall find Coluber there, at the most." "Ah! you are beaten, Conrart; you are reduced to a play upon words.
The records of her life were preserved by Conrart, also by her friend and physician, Valant. They give us a clear picture of her character, with its graces and its foibles, as well as of her pleasant intercourse and correspondence with many noted men and women. They give us, too, interesting glimpses of her salon.
"I mean that your butler had not wine for all tastes, monsieur; and that M. de la Fontaine, M. Pellisson, and M. Conrart, do not drink when they come to the house these gentlemen do not like strong wine. What is to be done, then?" "Well, and therefore?" "Well, then, I have found here a vin de Joigny, which they like. I know they come once a week to drink at the Image-de-Notre-Dame.
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