The final quarrel is related in detail in the _Memoires_ of Mademoiselle. It happened in the spring of 1684. France was at war with Spain. On April 22d the King departed to join his army, refusing to permit Lauzun to accompany him, who imagined, rightly or wrongly, that Mademoiselle was responsible for the prohibition, and was indignant. He went to the Luxembourg, where a reception of raillery exasperated him still further: I met him laughing, and said: "You must retire to Saint-Fargeau; you will be a laughing stock if you remain at Paris, as you were not permitted to go with the King, and I shall be very vexed if it is believed that it is I who have caused you to remain behind." He replied: "I am going away, and bid you farewell; I shall never see you again." I said: "It would have been better if we had never met; but better late than never." "You have ruined my career," replied he; "you might as well have cut my throat; it is your fault that I am not with the King; you asked him to leave me behind." "Oh, that is false; he will tell you so himself." Lauzun grew more and more angry, and I remained very calm. I said to him: "Adieu, then"; and I entered my boudoir. I remained there some time; on returning, I found him still there. The ladies present said: "Do you not wish to play cards?" I approached him, saying: "This is too much; keep your promise; go away." He finally withdrew. This rupture made a great scandal. Dangeau, who had followed the King to the frontier, noted on May 6th, in his journal: "The news comes from Paris that Mademoiselle has forbidden M. de Lauzun to appear again before her." Thus ends meanly and miserably, with a scene worthy of Dickens, the most famous passion of the century, after that of Chimene and Rodrigue. The first interest in the affair abated, the hero of the romance sank into obscurity. Mademoiselle cast herself into an ecstasy of pious devotion, from which the virtue of pardoning the offences of others was apparently excluded. Lauzun sought some support to which to attach himself, and did not easily find it. He realised too late that one could not quarrel with impunity with a princess of the blood. He made attempts at reconciliation, which Mademoiselle repulsed; she had loved with too much ardour not to be capable of furious hate. The career of both lovers appeared to be finished, when the fantastic star which had guided Lauzun towards so many adventures, marvellous if not always agreeable, led him to England during the autumn of 1688. He sought a more hospitable court, he found a revolution and glory. "I admire the star of M. de Lauzun," wrote Mme. de Sevigne, "which again brings its light over the horizon when it was supposed to be for ever extinguished" (December 24, 1688).