A gaming quarrel was the cause of a slap in the face given by the Duc René to Louis XII., then Duc d’Orleans. This slap was the origin of a _ligue_ which was termed “the mad war.” The resentment of the outraged prince was not appeased till he mounted the throne, when he uttered these memorable words: “A King of France does not avenge insults offered to a Duke of Orleans.” Similarly, on one occasion Casimir II., King of Poland, received a blow from a Polish subject, named Konarski, who had lost all he possessed in play. Thereupon he took to flight, and on being captured he was condemned to lose his head. But when brought before Casimir, his Majesty thus addressed him: “You, I perceive, are sorry for your fault; that is sufficient. Take your money again, and let us renounce gaming for ever.” And turning to his courtiers, the King added, “I am the only one to blame in this matter, for I ought not by my example to encourage a pernicious practice which may be the ruin of my nobility.” Louis XIII. was adverse to gambling in any form, but Louis XIV. gave it every encouragement. Madame de Sevigné thus describes a gaming party at which she was present: “I went on Saturday with Villars to Versailles. I need not tell you of the Queen’s toilette, the mass, the dinner--you know it all; but at three o’clock the King rose from table, and he, the Queen, monsieur, madame, mademoiselle, all the princes and princesses, Madame de Montespan, all her suite, all the courtiers, all the ladies, in short, what we call the Court of France, were assembled in that beautiful apartment which you know.” She then describes how “a table of reversi (a compound of loo and commerce) gives a form to the crowd, and a place to every one. The King is next to Madame de Montespan, who deals; the Duke of Orleans, the Queen, and Madame de Soubise; Dangeau & Co., Langée & Co.; a thousand louis are poured out on the cloth--there are no such other counters.... There is always music going on, which has a very good effect; the King listens to the music, and chats to the ladies about him. At last, at six o’clock, they stop playing; they have no trouble in settling their reckonings; there are no counters--the lowest pools are five, six, seven hundred louis, the great ones a thousand, or twelve hundred. They put in five each at first, that makes one hundred, and the dealer puts in ten more--then they give four louis each to whoever has Quinola (the knave of hearts). Some pass, others play; but whenever you play without winning the pool, you must pay in sixteen to teach you how to play rashly; they talk altogether, and forever, and of everything.” This was the kind of amusement which characterised what Madame de Sevigné has termed “the iniquitous Court,” and well she might tremble at the idea of her son joining such a company. She says, “He tells me he is going to play with his young master--the Dauphin. I shudder at the thought. Four hundred pistoles are very easily lost.”