_Bossuet._ Are you resolved to leave it off? _Fontanges._ I have left it off entirely since the king began to love me. I have never said a spiteful word of anybody since. _Bossuet._ In your opinion, mademoiselle, are there no other sins than malice? _Fontanges._ I never stole anything; I never committed adultery; I never coveted my neighbour's wife; I never killed any person, though several have told me they should die for me. _Bossuet._ Vain, idle talk! Did you listen to it? _Fontanges._ Indeed I did, with both ears; it seemed so funny. _Bossuet._ You have something to answer for, then. _Fontanges._ No, indeed, I have not, monseigneur. I have asked many times after them, and found they were all alive, which mortified me. _Bossuet._ So, then! you would really have them die for you? _Fontanges._ Oh, no, no! but I wanted to see whether they were in earnest, or told me fibs; for, if they told me fibs, I would never trust them again. _Bossuet._ Do you hate the world, mademoiselle? _Fontanges._ A good deal of it: all Picardy, for example, and all Sologne; nothing is uglier--and, oh my life! what frightful men and women! _Bossuet._ I would say, in plain language, do you hate the flesh and the devil? _Fontanges._ Who does not hate the devil? If you will hold my hand the while, I will tell him so. I hate you, beast! There now. As for flesh, I never could bear a fat man. Such people can neither dance nor hunt, nor do anything that I know of. _Bossuet._ Mademoiselle Marie-Angelique de Scoraille de Rousille, Duchess de Fontanges! do you hate titles and dignities and yourself? _Fontanges._ Myself! does any one hate me? Why should I be the first? Hatred is the worst thing in the world: it makes one so very ugly. _Bossuet._ To love God, we must hate ourselves. We must detest our bodies, if we would save our souls. _Fontanges._ That is hard: how can I do it? I see nothing so detestable in mine. Do you? To love is easier. I love God whenever I think of Him, He has been so very good to me; but I cannot hate myself, if I would. As God hath not hated me, why should I? Beside, it was He who made the king to love me; for I heard you say in a sermon that the hearts of kings are in His rule and governance. As for titles and dignities, I do not care much about them while his Majesty loves me, and calls me his Angelique. They make people more civil about us; and therefore it must be a simpleton who hates or disregards them, and a hypocrite who pretends it. I am glad to be a duchess. Manon and Lisette have never tied my garter so as to hurt me since, nor has the mischievous old La Grange said anything cross or bold: on the contrary, she told me what a fine colour and what a plumpness it gave me. Would not you rather be a duchess than a waiting-maid or a nun, if the king gave you your choice? _Bossuet._ Pardon me, mademoiselle, I am confounded at the levity of your question. _Fontanges._ I am in earnest, as you see.