The state affairs having been concluded, the king, seeking to disguise his voluntary embarrassment, said to the duke, smiling, “Duc de Choiseul, I have formed for my private hours a most delightful society: the most attached of my subjects consider themselves highly favored when I invite them to these evening parties so necessary for my amusement. I see with pain that you have never yet asked me to admit you there.” “Sire,” replied the duke, “the multiplicity of the labors with which your majesty has charged me, scarcely allows me time for my pleasures.” “Oh, you are not so fully occupied but that you have still some time to spend with the ladies, and I think that I used to meet you frequently at the marquise de Pompadour’s.” “Sire, she was my friend.” “Well, and why, is not the comtesse du Barry? Who has put it into your head that she was opposed to you? You do not know her: she is an excellent woman: not only has she no dislike to you, but even desires nothing more than to be on good terms with you.” “I must believe so since your majesty assures me of it; but, sire, the vast business with which I am overwhelmed--” “Is not a sufficing plea; I do not allow that without a special motive, you should declare yourself against a person whom I honor with my protection. As you do not know her, and cannot have any thing to urge against her but prejudices founded on false rumors and scandalous fabrications, I engage you to sup with me at her apartments this evening, and I flatter myself that when I wish it you will not coin a parcel of reasons in opposition to my desire.” “I know the obedience that is due to your majesty,” said de Choiseul, bowing low. “Well, then, do first from duty what I flatter myself you will afterwards do from inclination. Duc de Choiseul, do not allow yourself to be influenced by advice that will prove injurious to you. What I ask cannot compromise you; but I should wish that with you all should be quiet, that no one should struggle against me, and that too with the air of contending against a person’s station. Do not reply, you know perfectly what I would say, and I know what belongs to myself.” Here the conversation terminated. The duc de Choiseul did not become my friend any the more, but behaved towards me with all due consideration. He used grace and _finesse_ in his proceedings, without mingling with it anything approaching to nonsense. He never allowed himself, whatever has been said, to dart out in my face any of those epigrams which public malignity has attributed to him. Perhaps like many other persons in the world, he has said many pleasantries of me which have been reported as said in my presence, but I repeat that he never uttered in my society a single word with which I had cause to be offended.