United States or Oman ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"And what is your name, my child?" asked Pierre. "Sophie Couteau, Monsieur l'Abbe." "You do not belong to the town of Poitiers?" "Oh no! certainly not. We belong to Vivonne, which is seven kilometres away. My father and mother have a little land there, and things would not be so bad if there were not eight children at home I am the fifth, fortunately the four older ones are beginning to work."
A few days after the marriage, my health being somewhat reestablished, I went to Petit-Bourg; but the Marechal de Vivonne, his son Louis de Vivonne, all the Mortemarts, all the Rochehouarts, Thianges, Damas, Seignelays, Blainvilles, and Colberts, in a word, counts, marquises, barons, prelates, and duchesses, came to find me and attack me in my desert, in order to represent to me that, since Madame de Maintenon was the wife of the monarch, I owed her my homage and respectful compliments.
One day the poor Marechal de Vivonne came to see me; he opened my shutters to call my attention to the beauty of the sky, and, my health seeming to him a trifle poor, he suggested to me to embark at once in his carriage and to go and dine at Clagny. I had no will left that day, so I accompanied my brother.
"Monsieur the Venetian drummer," I said to him, with the hauteur which it was necessary to oppose to his audacity, "Monsieur le Marechal de Vivonne, who is always too good, saved your life without knowing you. I gave you to the King, imagining that I knew you.
A few days after the marriage, my health being somewhat reestablished, I went to Petit-Bourg; but the Marechal de Vivonne, his son Louis de Vivonne, all the Mortemarts, all the Rochehouarts, Thianges, Damas, Seignelays, Blainvilles, and Colberts, in a word, counts, marquises, barons, prelates, and duchesses, came to find me and attack me in my desert, in order to represent to me that, since Madame de Maintenon was the wife of the monarch, I owed her my homage and respectful compliments.
One day, in a gaming-house, seeing the table covered with gold, the Marshal exclaimed at the door: "I will wager that D'Aubigne is here, and makes all this display; it is a magnificence worthy of him." "Yes, truly," said the brother of the favourite; "I have received my silver staff, you see!" That was an uncouth impertinence, for assuredly M. de Vivonne had not owed this dignity to my favour.
One of the islets is known as the Ile des Roches and contains the Grotte de Rabelais, so named in honour of the Curé of Meudon, when he was presented at Rambouillet by the Cardinal du Bellay. It was on this isle that were given those famous fêtes in honour of the "beaux esprits" who formed the assiduous cortège of Catherine de Vivonne, mythological, pagan and outré.
And now, making a fresh gesture, holding her arms somewhat apart, she concluded: "When I got back to Vivonne and Monsieur Rivoire saw my foot again, he said: 'Whether it be God or the Devil who has cured this child, it is all the same to me; but in all truth she is cured." This time a burst of laughter rang out.
"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.
The next woman who took a stand that revealed genuine social consciousness was that half-French, half-Italian woman, Catherine de Vivonne, Marquise de Rambouillet. She seceded from court because the court was swaggering and hurly-burly, with florid Marie-de-Medicis at its head.
Word Of The Day