Madame Scarron, whom he so basely deserted for the superior charms of
her friend Ninon, often gave him a bad quarter of an hour. When she
became the mistress of the king and, as Madame de Maintenon, really
held the reins of power, visions of the Bastile thronged his brain. He
knew perfectly well that he had scorned the charms of Madame Scarron,
who believed them irresistible, and that he deserved whatever
punishment she might inflict upon him. She might have procured a
lettre de cachet, had him immured in a dungeon or his head removed
from his shoulders as easily as order a dinner, but she did nothing to
gratify a spirit of revenge, utterly ignoring his existence.
Added to these trifling circumstances, trifling in comparison with
what follows, was the furious jealousy of his wife, Madame la
Marquise. She was violently angry and did not conceal her hatred for
the woman who had stolen her husband's affections. The Marquise was a
trifle vulgar and common in her manner of manifesting her displeasure,
but the Marquis, a very polite and affable gentleman, did not pay the
slightest attention to his wife's daily recriminations, but continued
to amuse himself with the charming Ninon.
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