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Updated: June 27, 2025
At the moment when this jollity was manifesting itself by the most lively demonstrations, when the ladies were reproaching the two adversaries with not having admitted women into the system of Epicurean happiness, Gourville was seen hastening from the other end of the garden, approaching Fouquet, and detaching him, by his presence alone, from the group.
And Gourville held out to the superintendent a note communicated by a certain secretary of the Hotel de Ville, who was one of Fouquet's creatures. "Yes, that is true," murmured the minister; "the scaffold may be prepared, but the king has not signed; Gourville, the king will not sign." "I shall soon know," said Gourville. "How?"
"M. Gourville, M. Pelisson, and a poet, M. Jean de la Fontaine." The king took a moment to reflect. "What do they want?" "I do not know." "How do they appear?" "In great affliction." "What do they say?" "Nothing." "What do they do?" "They weep." "Let them come in," said the king, with a serious brow.
"I shall be back in an hour; rest easy, abbe." Then aside to Gourville "Let them put to my English horses," said he, "and direct the coachman to stop at the Hotel de Ville de Paris." M. de la Fontaine's Wine
"Oh! monseigneur, do not do that, the lighter is full of armed men." "He wishes to arrest me, then, Gourville? Why does he not come on?" "Monseigneur, it is not consistent with your dignity to go to meet even your ruin." "But to allow them to watch me like a malefactor!" "Nothing yet proves that they are watching you, monseigneur; be patient!" "What is to be done, then?"
"I advise you, monseigneur, not to quarrel with a hundred or a hundred and twenty loose fellows, who, by putting their rapiers end to end, would form a cordon of steel capable of surrounding three thousand men." Fouquet darted a searching glance at Gourville, and passing before him, "That is all very well, let M. l'Abbe Fouquet be introduced," said he to the footman. "You are right, Gourville."
Upon seeing this, Fouquet felt himself threatened closely, and in a prophetic voice "Well, Gourville," said he, whisperingly, "what did I say at our last repast, at my house? Am I going, or not, to my ruin?" "Oh! monseigneur!"
Fouquet began to walk about his chamber with an uneasiness that became more and more serious. "What do you decide upon, monseigneur?" said Gourville. "If it really were as you say, I would go to the king," cried Fouquet. "But as I go to the Louvre, I will pass by the Hotel de Ville. We shall see if the sentence is signed."
"Very well, monsieur, we have nothing else to ask of you," said the abbe, more and more dejected, in proportion as the moment approached for finding himself alone with his brother. "Have you been paid?" asked Gourville. "Partly, monsieur," replied Danecamp. "Here are twenty pistoles. Begone, monsieur, and never forget to defend, as this time has been done, the true interests of the king."
"Strange fellow," murmured Fouquet. Then he added, "That is ingenious. Carry it out, but shed no blood." Gourville and the abbe set off together, with their heads full of the meditated riot. The superintendent laid himself down upon some cushions, half valiant with respect to the sinister projects of the morrow, half dreaming of love. The Cabaret of the Image-de-Notre-Dame
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