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May you pay this very late, and as few intermediate tributes as possible; and so 'jubeo te bene valere'. God bless you! BATH, December 9, 1766. MY DEAR FRIEND: I received, two days ago, your letter of the 26th past. I am very glad that you begin to feel the good effects of the climate where you are; I know it saved my life, in 1741, when both the skillful and the unskillful gave me over.
The same night Gravina offered one thousand Louis, which were accepted, and the papers returned; but the next day Valere went to his hotel, Rue de Provence, where he presented himself as a brother of Barrois.
The same night Gravina offered one thousand Louis, which were accepted, and the papers returned; but the next day Valere went to his hotel, Rue de Provence, where he presented himself as a brother of Barrois.
This girl had a sweetheart of the name of Valere, an actor at one of the little theatres on the Boulevards, to whom she communicated her adventure. He advised her to be scrupulous in her turn, and to ask a copy of the agreement. After some difficulty this was obtained. In it no mention was made of her maintenance, nor in what manner her children were to be regarded, should she have any.
I am excessively impatient for your next letter, which I expect by the first post from Hanover, to remove my anxiety, as I hope it will, not only with regard to your health, but likewise to OTHER THINGS; in the meantime in the language of a pedant, but with the tenderness of a parent, 'jubeo te bene valere'.
Is it not Tacitus who says, 'Sua cuique vita obscura est'?" "Yes, my dear fellow," replied Hamilton, stretching himself lazily in his chair. "And surely we can say with Martial, 'Non est vivere, sed valere vita' I am well, therefore I am alive! Mine has been a rather curious career up to the present. I only once heard of you after Oxford through Arthur Price, who was, you'll remember, at Balliol.
Valere had, therefore, another agreement drawn up, in which all these points were arranged, according to his own interested views. Gravina refused to subscribe to what he plainly perceived were only extortions; and the girl, in her turn, not only declined any further connection with him, but threatened to publish the act of polygamy.
He could not, however, suit the fancy of the Queen, who was for pure gallantry; those who were less delicate he was better suited for, and for this reason it was said that libertine women used to run after him. He never denied that he was indiscreet and inconstant. Being one day with me at the theatre, and hearing Valere say he was tired of his mistress, "That has been my case often," he cried.
He said you would clap me in jail, and he told me flat I might rot my life out there before he would give up to you Mlle. de Montluc." "Well, then, pardieu, we'll try if he means it!" "He gave me to understand that he meant it. The St. Quentins out of the way, there is Valère, stout Kingsman, to succeed. The king loses little." "Then are you gone mad that you put yourself in my grasp?"
"From M. de Valère?" "No." "Then who the devil are you?" "Félix Broux of St. Quentin." "Ah, St. Quentin," he said, as if he found that rather tame. "You bring news from there?" "No, I do not. Think you I shall tell you? This news is for Monsieur." "It won't reach Monsieur unless you learn politeness toward the gentlemen of his household," he retorted.
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