became my bitterest enemy. Not even after he had consoled himself
with the insipid charms of that poor, flimsy creature, La Valliere,
did Louis relent; his animosity, because of some witticism of mine
on the subject of his hysterical mistress, has pursued me throughout
life; not only me, but every member of my family. For a mere epigram
I was banished from Paris, and your father stripped of a lucrative
and honorable office. We managed after a time to return to court,
but my enemies were more powerful than I. Through the jealousy of
the Marquise de Montespan I was a second time banished; but before
we left, your father fought two duels with noblemen who had
circulated the calumnies which the marquise had originated
concerning me. The Duke de Noailles was wounded, and the Chevalier
de Grand Mercy killed. Although the challenges had been honorably
sent and accepted, the Count de Soissons was summoned before the
king and publicly rebuked. Oh, let me speak no longer of the
contumely we endured during those bitter days! My husband died,
blessing me, and cursing the selfish monarch who had ruined us
both."

Eugene clinched his hand. "I shall remember the curse," cried he,
"and it shall be verified if God give me strength, mother!"

"Yes, avenge us if you can, Eugene, but, until the day of reckoning
come, we must be politic and wary. Be silent and discreet as I was,
when, on being allowed to return to Paris, I humbled myself for my
dear children's sake, and not only swore to write no more epigrams,
but went in person to sue to Madame de Montespan for pardon and
protection!"

"Mother, is it possible! Far better had it been for us to die