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Updated: June 25, 2025
Foremost among the writers of satire stands Count Roger Rabutin de Bussy, whose mind was jocose, his wit keen, and his sarcasm severe. He was born in 1618, and educated at a college of Jesuits, where he manifested an extraordinary avidity for letters and precocious talents. The glory of war fired his early zeal, and for sixteen years he followed the pursuit of arms.
Secondly, he was a man from whom Bussy would have accepted neither warning nor assistance; yet he was not pleased that any brave man should be taken by surprise, and he gave me credit for a similar feeling. I could not but like him, despite my hidden suspicion that there was something between Mlle. d'Arency and him.
"I promise you shall be content. You hesitate still, I believe." "Monseigneur, I know you so well." "Come, I tell you." "This is good for you," whispered Bussy to Jeanne. "There will be a quarrel between the brothers, and meanwhile you can find St. Luc." "Well," said he to the prince, "I follow you; if I am insulted, at least I can always revenge myself."
And the young woman, touching with her cold hand the burning ones of Bussy, rose and fled among the somber alleys of the garden, seized Gertrude's arm and dragged her away, before Bussy, astonished and overwhelmed with delight, had time to stretch out his arms to retain her.
Remy joined Bussy as he was exploring a cave with the prince. "Well," said he to his messenger, "what did you hear or see?" "A wall, a cry, seven leagues," replied Remy laconically.
"Ah dame, why do you marry, knowing how jealous the king is in his friendships?" "Good," thought St. Luc, "everyone for himself; and as I wish to live tranquil during the first fortnight of my marriage, I will make friends with M. Bussy." And he advanced towards him. After his impertinent speech, Bussy had looked round the room to see if any one would take notice of it. Seeing St.
Luc, is with him; also his lacquey and body-physician, the faithful Rely. Bang! the doors are broken in, and the assassins penetrate up the stairway. The brave Bussy confides Diana to St. Luc and Rely, and, hastily throwing up a barricade of tables and chairs near the door of the apartment, draws his sword. Then, ye friends of sudden death and valorous exercise, began a surfeit of joy.
This morning I put swords in the hands of four fencers, who during eight minutes could not touch me once, while I tore their doublets to pieces." So conversing, they arrived in the Rue St. Antoine. "Adieu! here we are," said Bussy. "Shall I wait for you?" "Why?" "To make sure that you will return before two o'clock, and have at least five or six hours' sleep before your duel."
"Continue to prevent two poor lovers from talking to each other at their ease." Diana seized in her arms the laughing young woman. "Listen!" said Jeanne, "there are the hunters calling us, and poor St. Luc is impatient." The next day, Bussy left Angers before the most wakeful bourgeois had had their breakfast.
"Oh, M. de Bussy, is it possible you do not know women better than that!" "Remy, I feel very ill." "So I see. Go home, and I will prescribe for you." "What?" "A slice of fowl and ham, and some lobster." "Oh, I am not hungry." "The more reason I should order you to eat." "Remy, I fear that that wretch will make a great scene at Meridor. I ought to have gone with him when he asked me." "What for?"
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