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Updated: May 15, 2025
Newton was in the very middle of a long story, Madame de Fontanges on the ottoman, and her attendants collected round her, seated on the floor even Cupidon had advanced from his corner to within half distance, his mouth and eyes wide open, when Monsieur de Fontanges entered the boudoir, with anxiety and chagrin expressed in his countenance.
It is a sad business, and all the more so because I don't know how I can settle it. THE WIFE. What is it all about, Adolph? You are a wretch if you do not tell me what you are going to do! THE HUSBAND. My dear, that ass of a Prosper Magnan is fighting a duel with M. de Fontanges, on account of an Opera singer. But what is the matter with you? THE WIFE. Nothing.
They were joined by the Flemish sailors belonging to the neutral vessel, who very deliberately put their hands in their breeches-pockets, and pulled out their knives, about as long as a carpenter's two-foot rule, preferring this weapon to anything else. Monsieur de Fontanges, bursting with impatience, stood with Newton, at the head of the men.
Thus far our chronicle and now we pause, Though not for want of matter, but 'tis time. Amber, or Julie de Fontanges, as we must now call her, quitted the abode of her kind protector, in such distress, that it was evident she regretted the discovery which had been made. She was too young to be aware of the advantages of high birth, and her removal was for some time a source of unfeigned regret.
In fact, the sins of the King could only throw his confessor into relief and add to his merit. Mademoiselle de Fontanges. The Pavilions of the Garden of Flora. Rapid Triumph of the Favourite. Her Retreat to Val-de-grace. Her Death. Madame de Maintenon was already forty-four years old, and appeared to be only thirty.
From this condition he was to be relieved, and the arrangements for the discharge of his debts, and the securing to him the enjoyment of a sufficient though by no means excessive income, were intrusted to Marie Antoinette by the king, and by her to her almoner, M. de Fontanges, who, when Loménie de Brienne was promoted to the archbishopric of Sens, had succeeded him at Toulouse.
Newton looked at the lady, who had burst into tears, as her face laid upon his shoulder, and immediately recognised his former kind and affectionate friend, Madame de Fontanges: close to him, with his hand extended, was her generous husband.
The blow of Newton's sword was warded off by the miscreant; but at the same moment that of Monsieur de Fontanges was passed through his body to the hilt. Newton had just time to witness the fall of Jackson, when a tomahawk descended on his head; his senses failed him, and he lay among the dead upon the deck. There was a shriek, a piercing shriek, heard when Newton fell.
She had been sent home to France for her education, and had returned at the age of fourteen to Guadaloupe, where she soon after married Monsieur de Fontanges, an officer of rank, and brother to the governor of the island. Her form was diminutive, but most perfect; her hand and arm models for the statuary; while her feet were so small as almost to excite risibility when you observed them.
I confided him, with the most impressive recommendations, to the physician or surgeon of Viroflai, who lavished on him his attentions, his skill and zeal, and who sent him back quite sound after a whole month of affectionate care. At the time of the temporary triumph of Mademoiselle de Fontanges, the spell which was over my eyes was dissipated.
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