American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-01-10
THE SATIRIST.

AN INCIDENT IN THE RULE OF MADAME
DE P0MPADOUR.
IT was the time when Louis XIV. was
on the French throne; when the beautiful
and clever Marquise de Pompadour gayly
wound her tolls around his scepter; the
time of pig-fails and patches, of the Bas-
tile and of alchemy.
In a narrow street of Paris as it was in
days ofyore, in one of those small private
residences which. in those days, they
were pleased TO cali palace, and which
was in a somewhat daapidated condition,
there sat in a coy little boudoir charm
ing young girl. She was piquant rather
than beautiful, graceful rather than SYM
metric-a genuine ParisienHe, Mile.
Adrienne de Marneville.
She sat before her spinet and played
one of Lully's sOndtds, while at her feet,
on a low, embroidered stool, there sat
young man who, from time to time, wrote
with pencil on sheet of paper,
spread ont on portfolio he held on his
knees. What he wrote seemed 10 please
him amazingly, for at each period he
laughed heartily. He was neither hand
some nor an elegant man, but his face
bore the impress of talent, which, in his
generation, could hold its head as high
as rank OF riches. 1t was the poet Des-
at the spinet had given very dangerous
commissions commission that might,
indeed, easily send him to the Bastile.
She had demanded from him a satire on
the allpowerful woman who had France
at her feet, and whose influence was felt
in all Europe.
81 have finished, Adrienne," suddenly
cried Desforges, springing to his feet and
dancing about the room for a moment in
l.. -I <wVx H.
and began to read what he had written.
Adrienne stopped playing and listened
with wrapt attention to the silver-toned
but venomOus verses. Excellent =
charmingi" she cried, from time to time;
and when he had finished reading she
clapped her hands with delight.
"Then you are satisfed." asked Desfor-
ges.
'.And so well, sir, that 1 proclaim you
poet" replied Mile de Marneville, with
mock pathos.
May l ever prove wortby!" said the
poet, pressing her fingers to his lips.
"And these verses are miner" asked
Adrienne.
"Yours; but first let me take copy of
them"
While he made a transcript of the little
satire, Adrienns explained to him why
she had such an intense hatred for Mime.
de Pompadour, and was overjoyed wiIen
DesfOrges promised to distribute copies
of the virulent verses in the cafes and in
the burcmrr Gesprit.
He pressed her hand once more to his
lips, and hurried away on his errand,
while she turned again to her sonata as
though nothing unusual had Occurred-a
genuine daughter of the rocco times was
Adrienne de Marneville, tickle, careless,
giddy.
Adrienne had just finished playing, as
Mime. de Marneviile, still an attractive
woman of the beau monde, entered the
room somewhat hastily.
Mon entant come with a most agreea-
bic surprise
"Ah, mamms, you have brought me the
set of jewelry I asked you for the other
dayt" interrupted Adrienne
NO, child. l have brought you moth
ing. What l bring you offers itseif-a
husband The Marquise de Beauvoir is
a sutton for your hand"
"Beauvoir--a handsome man. replied
Adrienne, blushing violently.
And very ricf," added the mother
"And you would have me marry him? 90
asked Adrienne. naivelv.
Certainly How can you ask? You
know we are not rich 1t would be insan-
ity to refuse"
But Desforgesq You know he loves
me-"
That's very comprehensive"
And love him, too" sighed Adri-
enne. -
That's very incomprehensible.n re-
turned Mime. de Marneville, indignantly.
And you really wish me To-
TO become the Marquise de Beauvoir,
my chiid-to ride in your coach and four,
to shine at court, and be served like AN
Oriental queen, by Moors."
That would be splendid"
Then may tell the marquis that you
CONSENT"
Ellis servants are Moors-I have seen
them myself" murmured Adrienne
Then you consent" asked the ambi-
tious mother.
We'll, yes, mamma, but-but what
will Desforges say, poor Desforges ?"
The mother embraced her daughter,
and taking her hand led her into the salo1
where the Marquis de Beauvoir waited
When poor Desforges, the following
at the success of his satire, he was re
ceived by Nine. de Marneville with
frosty nod, by Adrienne with downcast
eyes, and by the handsome cavalier, who
held Adrienne's hand tenderly in his own,
with a cold, inquiring glance.
We have some news to tell you, N.
Desforges," began the lady of the house
AuIiehhe Is DelrOtleu 10 NJ. lc marquis
de Beauvoir"
IL congratulate your stamnered
Desforges. 1t was suddenly dark before |
his eyes He bowed awkwardly, and |
staggered out of the room.
"The gentleman's manner was very
strange" observed the marquis
'Ha, Desforges never does ANYTHING /
like other people-poets never do, / /
think" replied the mamma, laughing
The next morning when Mile de hlarn- !
eville, accompanied by her old nurse, was 1
returning from mass, she met Desforges,
who had evidently been waiting for her.
I'm what have sinned, mademoiselle," |
he began, salutiBg her coldly, THAT you,
on the same day, make me the bappiest !
and then the most wretched OF mens Oh, |
you are hardly less cruel and hesr1less
than the Marquise de Pompadour, whom
you so hate"
IL am not accountable TO you for my |
actions, replied Adrienne, proudly.
but you have told me that you loved
me-" returned the unhappy poet.
Il imagined, .or . moment, that did,
confess said Adrienne, with siirug.
"You were then the only man l knew"
"And now?" cried he, in firmer tone.
Now love the marquis, my fance, !!
replied Adrienne, firmly; and he is |
very different sort of sutton from you, |
mon paurre DesfareesL Adieu"